Highbrowism and Populism in Tango

Art forms that reflect the general public’s tastes, needs, and educational backgrounds are often categorized as popular arts. In contrast, highbrow arts are defined by their very high standards and exceptional technical requirements, often beyond the reach of the average individual. For example, highbrow music typically demands a complexity and range that only a select few performers can achieve, whereas pop songs, with their simpler techniques and narrower vocal demands, are accessible to nearly everyone.

The belief that intricate and demanding art is inherently superior to straightforward and accessible forms, however, is deeply misguided. A painting is not automatically more valuable than a photograph, just as a pop song can be as compelling as an operatic aria. In fact, simplicity and accessibility often yield extraordinary results. Simplicity is not synonymous with artistic inferiority, nor does ease imply a lack of skill. On the contrary, achieving both often requires a high degree of sophistication. Truly accomplished artists make their craft appear effortless, and those who masterfully distill complexity into simplicity often demonstrate greater virtuosity than those who do not (see Simple Is Beautiful).

Individuals who believe in art for art's sake often overlook a fundamental truth: art—especially popular art—is created for people. What value does a pop song have if it is too complex for the general public to enjoy? What's the worth of a social dance if only an elite few can perform it? Argentine tango is a prime example of a social dance; it was created by sailors, gauchos, immigrant workers, and street women. It maintains its grassroots essence in Argentina even today. Most people who dance tango are ordinary people. They love tango because it is a simple and easy dance that serves their need for connection and affinity with other souls.

Those who regard themselves above the crowd try to make tango increasingly intricate and challenging. I question whether this serves the dance well. Tango will continue to evolve as an art form, of course, but transforming it into a highbrow dance akin to ballet is, in my view, a step in the wrong direction. The vitality of tango lies in its popularity and sociability, without these qualities, it risks becoming a detached, impractical art, a castle in the air.

Schopenhauer’s well-known remark, “Man is either vulgar or lonely,” invites multiple interpretations. It may encourage embracing individuality rather than conforming to the crowd. It could also warn against aloofness that leads to isolation. Alternatively, it may speak to the need for balance between refinement and accessibility, between high and popular culture. In the case of tango, this final interpretation seems especially apt. As a Chinese proverb wisely observes, “Water that is too clear has no fish, and a man with overly high standards has no followers.” Schopenhauer’s words, too, may be best understood as a caution: in seeking to set ourselves apart, we risk cutting off from the very human connection that gives art—and tango—its soul.