Femininity and Feminism in Tango (I)

Men and women have been best friends from the beginning. Men like women. They treat women better than they treat other men. They are more generous to women than to other men. They choose women as their life partners. They work hard for the women they love and would give up their lives for them. Women, too, like men. They strive to attract men and win their hearts. They place their trust in men, devote their love to them, unite with them, and follow their lead. Men and women cherish, need, support, complement, and complete each other. Their friendship has, for the most part, been a love story (see Tango and Gender Interdependence).

In the milongas of Buenos Aires, I witnessed this love story. I found myself experiencing wonderful relationships with Argentine women. At first glance, Argentine women do not strike me as being prettier than others, but they made an impression on me when I danced with them. They are tender, gentle, obedient, affectionate, sentimental, and seductive. They dress femininely and wear flowers. They gaze at you to capture your attention and respond to your cabeceo with a smiling nod. They embrace you warmly with their breasts pressing intimately against your chest. They twist their bodies in your arms, wrap themselves around you, and entangle their legs with yours. Femininity is not their weakness but their strength, and they know how to use it to make you feel special. They may be professors, doctors, or CEOs in their professional lives, but in the milongas, they are simply pure, natural, and lovely women. That tango was invented by them is no accident—it lives in their blood. Argentine women are the incarnations of femininity and affection. Dancing with them is truly one of life’s most gratifying experiences (see The Gender Expression in Tango).

Without femininity, tango would not be the same. Tango requires men to be strong, decisive, dependable, protective, and considerate, and women to be gentle, soft, loving, obedient, agreeable, and beautiful. Men and women play different roles in tango, as they do in life (see The Gender Roles in Tango). One is like branches, and the other, leaves—together, they create a blossoming tree. One is like brushes, and the other, paints—together, they create a beautiful painting. In Europe and North America, under the influence of feminism, some women accuse this idea of being sexist. They dismiss gender differences, gender expressions, and gender roles, refusing to surrender to men and follow their lead. They demand that macho posturing and gender inequality be removed from tango, insisting on maintaining independence by dancing in an open dance hold to keep a distance from men. They ask men not to lead them but only to suggest movements while respecting how women choose to interpret them. They assert their rights to interrupt the lead, initiate their own steps, reverse gender roles, and form same-sex partnerships. In short, they want tango to be a gender-neutral dance, and the milonga to be like a workplace where everyone behaves in a politically correct manner (see Tango and Gender Equality).

The masculinization of women in Europe and North America has undeniably impacted how tango is danced in these societies, where the modern way of living encourages women to wear uniforms, hide their gender identities, and join the workforce to compete like men. Many women choose career over marriage, success over family, and independence over relationships. They refuse to be treated as "the weaker sex" and push for legislations to protect women’s rights and equal opportunities. As a result, women see themselves less and less as women and more and more like men. To compete with men, women need to be tough, strong, ambitious, and aggressive—traits traditionally associated with masculinity. Many become mean, sloppy, overweight, or indifferent to their appearance, as they no longer care how men perceive them. They raise daughters who adopt the same traits, expecting them to compete with men as they grow up. Violent women breed violent murderers, as the world has just witnessed in Newtown, Connecticut. When women behave like men, the relationship between the sexes deteriorates, the institution of family disintegrates, and children lose their parents. When women cease to embody femininity, they become less attractive to men, who may then turn to same-sex relationships. You wonder why "marriage equality" has become a growing discourse in our society? When women lose the soft, gentle, and loving qualities that balance men’s aggression, the world becomes a more dangerous place.

What femininity is to humanity is like what green is to the environment. I am nostalgic for the missing femininity in our women. I believe the world shares this nostalgia, which is why more and more people around the globe find Argentine women and their dance so captivating. If you dance enough tango, as Argentine women do, you will understand that turning women into men doesn’t work in tango, just as it has caused more problems than it has solved in other societal discourses. That being said, I remain hopeful thanks to Argentine tango, because, in tango, men and women must be who they are created to be for their common good - different yet complementary, distinct yet balanced, divergent yet interdependent, and opposite but equal. (See Femininity and Feminism in Tango (II).)

Private Whispers in the Milongas, by Sara Melul

The milongueros, who are the true personalities of the milonga, have the custom of quietly talking with their partner between one tango and another. These whispers sometimes knit a plot that becomes a love story. Others are memories or anecdotes of one night in the milonga. At times they remain just a lovely conversation. The important thing is that, for us who come to dance, these conversations form an essential part of the warm, embracing atmosphere and one of those most important and gratifying moments. Surely there exist many thousands of such examples which different women receive daily in the milongas.

• How well we dance together! You have eyes that I want to eat. I dance better with you; you awaken the creativity in me.
• For me dancing tango is like flying, to surrender to you as a dream, and to enjoy it.
• I am going to tell you something that perhaps you will not like: The brightness of your eyes makes me blind.
• Do you always come here? Where else do you go to dance? I ask in order to follow you until the end of the world.
• Goddess, if I were God, I would have you in my kingdom, but I have you in my arms.
• I congratulate you because with you one can dance very well.
• How I enjoy dancing with you! Each tanda passes by in a breath!
• When we dance together I feel your body.
• You have a tiny waist that I am afraid will break.
• To dance with you is like a dream…how can I not be very happy, I have the best woman, the best music, what more do I need?
• I am enchanted with you, you dance like the goddess, beautiful, free, nothing worries you!
• After dancing the first tango with you, how could I leave now?
• They made this tango for you. It is called “to the grand doll.”
• Since I met you there is no other woman for me! I will come next week just to dance with you…
• You dance divinely…do you understand me? One only would want to know, to touch you and dance all night…
• You are something unbelievable. One can dance with you all night without being bored.
• I want to dance with you and catch your perfume!
• I want only to enjoy you in this dance…we will not talk. I am jealous when you do not dance with me…
• It is incredible how you dance. You are a monument to femininity.

Contributed by Sara Melul, El chamuyo en las milongas

Tango and Gender Equality

Some people think that traditional tango danced in close embrace is politically incorrect, and that the open-embrace tango of Europe and North America is a distilled and sanitized version of tango that meets modern requirements. A book I read recently expressed the following opinion:

“In Europe, the idea seems to be that harmony in dance is arrived at by mutual consent and that men and women are equal partners. I get the distinct impression, however, that even today, in Buenos Aires, the idea is that the man is in complete control; every action has its lead and the progress of the dance is a series of well-established consequences… A recent article from a tango website in Argentina touched on the relationship between the man and the woman. It used the phrase ‘The woman’s attitude of surrender’… I am not at all sure this notion would find much acceptability with the women I dance with. I can see how it might be interesting to look at the undoubtedly macho flavor in the history of tango and perhaps derive some ideas from it for our dance-play today. I am less happy to accept this idea as the essential feeling of tango in the modern world. I am more attracted to the idea that tango evolved out of a lucky fusion of multiple cultures, mostly European in origin. It seems that it received a transfusion of refinement in Paris in the 1920s, and it looks to me as if it is benefiting today from another shot in the arm all over Europe. Tango is growing apace here and is being distilled to meet the requirements of today’s relationships. I believe it may be losing its narrow, even parochial feel and is becoming truly international in the hands of a new and more cohesive European people. We are not frustrated, homesick, stressed Europeans seeking love miles from home with too few women to share. We are a new breed in a new world. Though the passions we bring as individuals to the dance will be the same basic feelings all men and women have shared since the beginning of time, the intensity must be different, and the balance between the sexes has altered most of all. It may also be the case that our societies in Europe are evolving at a different pace from that of Latin America, though not, I suspect, in a different direction. In Europe today, women have immense power, status, and influence, and they express their needs very clearly. The modern European woman is unlikely to respond too positively to macho posturing… It seems women like their men to be positive, but they also want finesse and thoughtfulness. Women hate to be bullied. They prefer to be invited and to feel that they are in full control to accept, or decline, as they feel. Accepting an invitation is not ‘surrender'... When you think about tango being danced way back at the beginning of the 20th century by earthy men in bordellos, hungry for a woman’s touch, closeness between a man and a woman was the business they were in. It was in the ‘sanitizing’ of tango for the more genteel public and the wider world audience that the open embrace evolved.”

The author's superiority regarding things he apparently has little understanding of is absurd. Traditional tango is not bullying, nor is open-embrace tango entirely genteel. To suggest that people who dance in close embrace are somehow dirty and less civilized than those who dance in open embrace is ridiculous and hypocritical (see Artistic Sublimation and Vulgarism in Tango).

What concerns me most, however, is his perception of "gender equality," which reflects a canting bias against the traditional gender roles in tango and the attempt by some people in Europe and North America to transform tango into a gender-neutral dance. We fight for the rights of those who are uneasy with their sexual orientations because they are human beings, too. But most of us do not have issues with our own gender. Most men that I know are happy with their manhood and masculinity, and they behave, function, and dance as men. Most women that I know are happy with their womanhood and femininity, and they behave, function, and dance as women. Men and women are different; they need, complement, and complete each other, and are attracted to each other because of that. Women bear and nurse offspring; men support, help, and protect them. They play different roles in life and tango, which nobody, certainly not modern people, should feel ashamed of. True modern people do not believe that women have to be like men in order to be equal with men—they can be feminine and still equal with men. True modern people believe that the relationship between the two sexes is love-based, not power-based. They do not regard decent intimacy between men and women as filthy, and they are not chauvinistic, especially toward a people whose art they are deeply indebted to and whose culture they may not yet fully comprehend (see Tango and Gender Interdependence).

As I said in another post, "The idea of tango is to welcome another person into your personal space, to accept that person, to be considerate, cooperative, yielding, and accommodating, to surrender and be one with them, to listen to their inner whispers and feelings, to enjoy the intimacy, and to bring love, pleasure, and contentment to them. It is a different idea from what our culture stands for, that is, individualism, independence, self-interest, and aggression (see Tango - The Art of Love)." Contrary to what the author thinks, the surrender in tango is mutual. It is in surrender that we stop competing and start adapting. Tango becomes popular in the modern world because it has the power to sublimate us by allowing us to be one with each other in an intimate relationship devoid of the bias of the last century. Tango is the opposite of hypocrisy. In tango, we become better, healthier, more authentic, natural, connected, cooperative, accommodating, and cohesive people. Those who prefer political correctness to decent humanity, individualism to partnership, gender neutralization to gender expression, alienation to intimacy, egoism to humility, and power struggle to love live in the shadow of the past. They are evolving at a different pace from that of Latin America, and not in the same direction as the author thought. They certainly do not represent the future of tango. (See Tango and Trust.)

Three Theories on Leading

The traditional theory of leading in Argentine tango is the drive theory, which defines the lead as a driving force. According to this theory, the man acts as the "driver," guiding the woman’s movements through his body. This approach reflects traditional gender roles and the macho culture of Argentine tango: the man holds the woman gently yet firmly as she leans slightly forward, resting in his embrace with her chest against his and her arm around his shoulder. In this setup, the woman does not need to plan or initiate steps; she simply surrenders, allowing him to lead her movements. Through the torso-to-torso connection, he can easily guide her by propelling her, turning his torso to make her step to his side, twirling the torso clockwise or counterclockwise to make her revolve around him, swaying her torso to bring her free leg to swing, swiveling his torso to make her perform a planeo, or interrupting and reversing the swivel to make her perform a boleo, and so on. The drive method is popular among feeling-oriented dancers who are drawn to the coziness of the embrace, the comforting sensation of two connected bodies moving in sync with the music, and the intimate physical interactions and soulful communication between partners. For them, tango is a highly synchronized dance. What makes a good leader is his ability to use his body to effect the movement of the woman. What makes a good follower is her ability to synchronize her movement to his. Steps are used to facilitate the embrace so that both partners can move harmoniously in the dance. Feeling-oriented dancers prefer simple steps to avoid complexity and distraction, focusing instead on the music, embrace, connection, feelings, communication, and achieving a sense of unity with each other. This theory forms the foundation of the milonguero style of tango.
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An alternative theory is la marca theory, which defines the lead as a series of signals or marks. In this approach, the lead might involve a push on the follower's palm, a pull on her back, a tap on her side, a drag of her hand, a sideways application of strength with his arms, or a pressure on her thigh with his thigh, among others. These signals act as codes, conveying to the follower how the leader wants her to move. According to this theory, “Mastering tango is mastering the making of signals” (Tango: The Art History of Love, by Robert Farris Thompson). One disadvantage of this method, however, is that it encourages leading with the arms and hands, diverging from the traditional drive method that uses the torso to lead. Another shortcoming is its lack of uniformity in signaling. Since each dancer may mark steps differently, following requires the woman to interpret individualized signals. This lack of standardization can lead to inconsistency, miscommunication, coercion, incoherence, and discomfort. Nevertheless, this approach has influenced tango's development. Leading with signals often produces varied reactions from different followers, compelling the leader to adapt. This shift has altered the way tango is danced, making it a less synchronized dance. The Villa Urquiza style of tango, danced in a loose embrace to allow for elaborate footwork and relying more on the arms and hands to lead, is associated with this theory.

A more unconventional theory of leading is the invitation theory, promoted by some in the West who, influenced by Western liberal ideologies such as individualism, feminism, and political correctness, oppose traditional gender roles. They advocate for dancing in an open embrace that allows for greater independence and individuality. This theory defines the lead as an invitation. According to this perspective, the leader's role is to offer proposals, while respecting the follower's choice in how she responds. The process is described as follows: “The leader ‘invites’ the lady to enter a room. She accepts the invitation and, in her own time, enters, and he then follows. In a sense, therefore, the leader has become the follower” (A Passion for Tango, by David Turner). This approach significantly changes the way tango is danced. First, it alters the dance frame from an A-shaped frame to an H-shaped one, allowing each partner greater independence but reducing the intimacy between them. Second, the lack of torso contact forces dancers to rely on their arms and hands for communication, even though, ideally, arms and hands should remain completely relaxed and uninvolved in leading. Third, this theory only works if the woman is an experienced dancer who knows how to follow the man's torso. Otherwise, he may need to force her with his arms and hands, which can feel coercive, uncomfortable, and confusing, especially if his arm and hand movements are inconsistent with his torso (see Men's Common Mistakes in Tango). Finally, even if she knows how to follow his torso, the lack of torso contact makes the lead less direct, giving her more freedom to interpret his intentions, and in turn requiring him to adapt to her responses. As a result, their roles become more fluid, with less emphasis on traditional synchronization and greater focus on individual expression. This transition shifts tango from a feeling-oriented style to a performance-oriented one, transforming it from an intimate, connected experience into a dance centered on movement and visual flair. (See The Styles of Tango.)

Tango Is a Feeling

We often hear that steps are tango's "vocabulary." As the word suggests, steps serve as the medium through which music and emotions are expressed—just as words are tools for conveying thoughts. At its heart, however, tango is not about the steps themselves but what those steps express. As someone famously stated, "Tango is a feeling that is danced."

Defining feelings is no simple task; they encompass a vast range—sentiments, emotions, moods, daydreams, euphoria, sorrow, excitement, and even the elusive duende. Put simply, the experience of tango represents a unique state of mind. In this state, we feel most exuberant, creative, fluent, eloquent, and fulfilled. Yet this state of mind is ineffable and often beyond deliberate control. It may come unbidden, unpredictably, or not at all, even when we yearn for it. Nevertheless, anyone who has experienced it knows its power. For many of us, that feeling is what makes tango so addictive (see The Psychology in Tango).

One of tango’s most potent keys to evoking deep emotions is its music. High-quality tango music is indispensable to a profoundly satisfying experience. Music catalyzes our originality, imagination, and fluency on the dance floor. The most compelling tango music—characterized by lucid rhythms, evocative melodies, and profound sentiment—does much more than facilitate movement. It resonates deep within us, stirs our emotions, sets our moods, ignites creativity, and elevates us to an extraordinary state of mind. When we reflect on a memorable milonga, it is not the sequence of steps that lingers in our memory but the emotional resonance created by exquisite music and meaningful connections.

While music is vital, it is not the sole creator of these emotions. The embrace is equally significant. Tango’s uniqueness lies largely in its embrace (see The Fourteenth Pitfall of a Tanguera). Contrary to what beginners may think, the embrace is not merely a frame or hold. It is the connection that unites us, the communication that links our hearts, the intimacy that comforts our souls, and the physical touch that sparks resonance and chemistry. The embrace fulfills profound human needs, providing connection, belonging, and a sense of completeness. It brings us back to the cradle of infancy—the nourishment and warmth of a mother’s chest, the support of a father’s arms, the safety of home. Tango reminds us that we are not at our best when alone but when together. In its truest form, tango is a longing for “home,” found in one another as we dance, becoming whole through unity. Without the embrace, tango loses its essence and becomes merely another dance.

If the embrace is crucial, so too is the partner. That transcendent feeling is elusive when dancing with someone who does not understand how to embrace (see The Connection between Partners). Unfortunately, a tango pedagogy focused solely on steps often produces such dancers. They avoid the embrace, lean back to create distance, clutch their partner as if gripping a shopping cart, and remain emotionally disengaged. These individuals miss the heart of tango. Dancing tango is akin to holding a baby in your arms, singing a lullaby while gently rocking her to sleep, or resting comfortably in a parent’s embrace, swayed tenderly by a hymn into a dream. Tango is warm, safe, intimate, and shared. The music, embrace, and rhythmic movement of tango create a hypnotic effect, transporting us to a state so blissful that we are reluctant to awaken when the tanda ends (see Cradle Effect). While steps are necessary, their purpose is to facilitate the embrace, enabling us to remain unified in motion. Tango resembles the relationship in real life where we face all kinds of challenges but keep on united, connected, supportive, complementing and inseparable. It requires love, trust, surrender and devotion (see Tango Is a Relationship).

If you can see tango from this perspective, I guarantee you will experience a totally different dance—intimate, romantic, comforting, dreamy, soulful, and deeply satisfying (see Tango and Romanticism).

The Tango in All of Us, by Beatriz Dujovne

At the end of our quest, a question remains unanswered: What is the power in the heart of this dance? Why does the tango - born of the angst inherited from the 19th century and the tensions of the 20th - speak so compellingly to people of the 21st century now?

Something in it feeds our hunger for being on a level with others. Something in it understands our rebellion and soothes our longing for “home,” giving us a sense of belonging and a shared communication that knows no barriers. Something in it mirrors our nostalgia. We are nostalgic, each of us, historically: we all have emigrated from the warm, the safe, and the personal. Our feelings parallel those of the inventors of tango, who left their familiar homes to arrive in a city where they saw their dreams for a better future crushed by an unexpected reality. They had to reinvent themselves and adapt to a world of sudden and rapid change. Our world no less than theirs puts us face to face with a grave uncertainty about the future: they did not know if they could survive in the small locality of the Rio de La Plata; we do not know if we can survive in a global world that veers us away from our most precious possessions - our subjectivity and our hearts.

The malaise of our times - the philosophy “any gain is good” - demands that we look outside for direction, that we put our status ahead of our hearts, that we treasure possessions over human connections and subjective fulfillment. What we lose in these exchanges are our “homes,” our hearts, our values. We are irredeemably nostalgic for that. Historically we have arrived at a nightmare of greed and its consequences: terror, endless competition, infinite careerism, alienation.

We are not only nostalgic. The “any gain is good” attitude is the culprit of another malaise: we are developing the uncanny homesickness that descends upon people who are still at home but feel estranged from the place they have lived all their lives. It has been called “solstalgia”: it occurs when ecological changes leave people watching their gardens becoming infertile, their birds disappearing, their crops and animals perishing.

The 19th century-born tango understands our 21st century “algias,” our nostalgia and solstalgia, our isolation-algia, our fragility, our immigrant condition, our anger at human-manufactured threats to life. That’s how this dance of tenderness and connection eases our return to a safe and warm “home.”

Whether as music, dance, poetry, lifestyle, or identity, the tango still fulfills human needs and soothes our 21st century angst. This is its power, but… is this all that propelled it to rise above cultures and to resonate around the globe? As I pondered this question, I flashed back to two experiences. I copy them here from my life notes; this is the first:

I wanted to participate in the miracle of birth, as an observer. The mother had to be someone I did not know. I was allowed into the delivery room, which was the mother’s private hospital room. Decorated in shades of green, everything was impeccably sterile.

When labor began, the “all” of life looked me straight in the eyes. There it was, staring me down. At its rawest. Unedited.

Mother’s ecstasy. Mother’s agony. Cries of joy. Cries of pain. Hard labor. Sweat. Blood. Strange body materials. Malodorous fluids. A mother’s body without will. Nature pouring her insides out. A thunderstorm agitating the ocean.

A mother’s suffering became a baby’s head, then a baby’s body, then a little person who could cry his very own terror out loud with his brand new lungs. This now human being could only calm down when his father’s arms held him securely and tightly close to his chest.

The birthing mother could have been an English queen surrounded by an entourage of caretakers, giving birth in the luxury of a palace. Or a woman from the Argentine pampas. Or a Muslim with a veil. The baby could have been any color. As never before, the basic common experience of all mothers and all babies struck me as being uncannily identical.

In that delivery room, I felt myself made of the “stuff” tango is made of: the beautiful and the ugly, the joy and the pain, the blood and the sweat, the fragrances and the odors. Tango has earth in its soul. It melts down differences by zeroing in on our commonality. Tango is all of us in life’s common places. It is who we are at the core, behind our social masks.

How is it that other social dances do not take us there? I believe that the physical tango embrace is a one-second ticket to emotions so old we do not have names for them, to the moment we enter this world as a creature. In the embrace, we are held in the same exact vertical position against someone’s chest, feeling safe and connected, engaging in a myriad of bodily duets. This ineffable universal “home,” the beginning of our ontology, still matters to us in that zone of the “unconscious,” where present and past are one and the same.

I heard the sound of silence during my visit to the Galapagos Islands, off the coast of Ecuador, in the wildlife that inspired Charles Darwin, in the habitat that remains largely as it was when he studied it. We were not supposed to disturb the animals while touring the islands. When we encountered, on our narrow path, the Blue-footed Boobies with their white and black outfits and blue painted feet, they did not walk away or fly off. We humans stopped in our tracks. Then we detoured so as not bother them.

They owned the place. The familiar differences between urban animals and humans did not exist in Galapagos. In that semi-pristine landscape, it was crystal clear that they had more rights than we did… Detouring around them, we reached the ocean; a sea lion had given birth in the beach. I could tell because a solitary placenta was basking in the sun, waiting to become food for another species. Perfect cycles of nature: one’s discard becomes food for another.

On that beach, for the first and only time in my life, I listened to a new sound of silence. Not the one that results from absence of noise. A silence that enveloped the earth and the skies and everything in a larger dimension, where human and animals lived in a shared space and had equal rights. This zone transcended both our species.

The delivery room and the Galapagos confronted me with something basically human… maybe bigger than human… cosmic perhaps.

In bother memories I encountered a point, as it is at the beginning of life and (I imagine) as it is at the end of life. Between these two points, we do the dance of life that pushes them apart… We grow away from our common stock, from our one same story, believing that our different affiliations to country, religion or ethnicity separate us. We kill for those beliefs. And in many cultures we deny our bodies as inferior to our minds and spirits. Tango bypasses all these camouflages of the self and goes right into the ineffable zone of the cosmic where we were in the first place, to that ineffable story of sameness, those points where our bodily nature screams its existence.

Tango’s power also resides in how it works in our psyches from the inside. The carnal embrace destabilizes our polar tendencies, while giving us a visceral sense of being more complete. The dance is a meeting ground of opposites and synthesis of the extremes that are in our very cores: man and woman, masculinity and femininity, oneness and separation, spirituality and carnality - all of these universally human polarities clash and blend in the embrace. We dance our man and woman to the fullest, in halves that need and complement each other. Yet, in this dance where the polar genders meet, I feel strands of androgyny that we dance, that we hear in the music, that we experience in the poetic text and in the singing. Many compositions insist on the beat; they seem more masculine. Others are melodically slower and gentler; they seem more feminine. Others balanced in their melodic and rhythmic aspects. Men and women singers switch from grave “masculinity” to tender “femininity” in voice and feeling in a fraction of a second. So do poets, who, in a macho culture, felt free to express their “feminine” emotions.

The opposites of oneness and separation do their own dance as well. The embrace summons us back to a wonderful oceanic experience, where two of us become one - for three minutes - until we recover our boundaries. The distinguished psychoanalyst Otto Fenichel used the expression “oceanic” to refer to the blurring of boundaries between self and world (which is uncannily similar to the experience of “merging” reported by dancers in moments of transport). It is a wonderful metaphor for the connection we feel but that others cannot see. In certain moments of the dance we go back to the ocean. In the rhythmic tides of the music we rise and fall; we are waves with a form that merge with the water, but that soon enough acquire individuality again. As dancers directly or indirectly told us, even in nonspectacular moments, we often feel snatches of a vast zone beyond ourselves and a sense of connection to more than what our senses perceive.

Not only does the dance fulfill needs, but it also confronts us with our ineffable nature, with a mystery our minds cannot understand but our emotions do.

Whether as dance, lifestyle or identity, song lyric or alternative culture, the tango has proven itself able to fulfill universal human needs. Most popular dances celebrate the happy side of life and put the tragic off to the side; the tango speaks to our pain and losses without trivializing or erasing them. Instead by in fact confronting and intensifying what is usually left in the margins, it summons us back to our realness.

Its initial spread and its current resurgence around the world show that, despite the disparities of time and place, language, skin color, religion or social status, we find ourselves, we find each other, we find the tango’s strength in strangers’ arms.


Beatriz Dujovne. In Strangers' Arms: The Magic of the Tango. North Carilina: McFarland & Company, 2011.

The Styles of Tango

Many terms are used to describe different styles of tango, such as tango milonguero, tango apilado, tango Villa Urquiza, estilo del centro, estilo del barrio, the salón style, tango de salón, tango fantasia, tango Nuevo, and tango para exportar.

The origins of various dance styles lie in human psychology. People who are feeling-oriented tend to focus on inner experiences. These dancers, many are milongueros, developed the milonguero style of tango, also known as tango milonguero or tango apilado. It is danced in a close embrace with a slightly leaning (apilado) position, featuring intimate physical contact and simple steps to emphasize connection and feelings. This style is commonly seen at tango clubs in downtown Buenos Aires, where crowded floors prevent elaborate movements, hence its nickname, "estilo del centro" or downtown style. The milonguero style prioritizes embrace and feelings.

On the other hand, dancers who are movement-oriented tend to focus on steps and action. These dancers, many are also milongueros, developed the Villa Urquiza style of tango—also known as the salón style—which is danced in a loose embrace with an upright posture to facilitate intricate movements. These action-oriented dancers like to dance at neighborhood clubs, such as Club Sin Rumbo in Villa Urquiza, where open dance floors allow for elaborate movement, hence the term "estilo del barrio" or neighborhood style. The Villa Urquiza style prioritizes footwork and impression.

The Milonguero style and the Villa Urquiza style are commonly recognized as tango de salón, or social tango. Social tango is a loose term—broad enough to encompass stylistic differences yet narrow enough to exclude anti-social behaviors. Social dancers may be feeling-oriented or movement-oriented, but they all dance in clubs and abide by the milonga codes.

Social tango dominated Buenos Aires' culture from the mid-1930s to the mid-1950s, a period known as tango’s Golden Age. Between 1940 and 1950, some 23 dancers—who were even more movement-oriented than their Villa Urquiza colleagues—met regularly at Club Nelson to develop novel steps. The result is a new style known as tango fantasia. The names of these 23 dancers are listed in Robert Farris Thompson's book, Tango, the Art History of Love. Danced mainly in an open embrace, tango fantasia dramatized tango with fancy movements and elaborate figures and distinguishes itself from improvisational social tango by employing choreography, rehearsal, and not conforming to the milonga codes. The purpose of this style is stage performance; therefore, it is also known as stage tango, show tango, performance tango, and exhibition tango (see Social Tango and Performance Tango).

From 1955 to 1983, Argentina was ruled by military juntas whose policies discouraged social tango. Curfews were enforced, and pedestrians were frequently stopped by the military police for interrogation. Many were arrested or simply disappeared for aligning with the previous, pro-tango Peronist regime. As a result, people stopped dancing socially, and tango went underground. The absence of social tango during this period gave tango fantasia an opportunity to take the stage. When military rule ended in 1983, it was this style that led to the revival of tango (see Tango: Historical and Cultural Impacts).

The renaissance was led by a group of stage performers who brought their show, Tango Argentino, to Paris and New York City in 1983 and 1984, where they ignited enthusiasm for their style of tango. Seizing the business opportunity, these professional dancers began teaching tango fantasia to Europeans and Americans, thus spawning the tango Nuevo movement that catered to the tastes of foreigners. Because tango Nuevo incorporated many non-tango elements, such as exotic music and eccentric steps, it ceased to be the tango in its original sense. For this reason, it is despised by milongueros, who call it "tango para exportar," or tango for export. (See Three Theories on Leading.)

Tango - The Art of Love

One of the protocols in tango is to avoid blaming, criticizing, or advising your dance partner unless that responsibility has been explicitly given to you. Milongueros adhere to this code strictly because they understand its importance. Recently, two of my students had a serious disagreement. It began, perhaps, with good intentions: she commented on his leading, and he defended himself with a remark about her following. The exchange escalated into insults, ultimately leaving two broken hearts. They may never dance together again.

Learning tango is akin to learning a language—it requires time, patience, and dedication. Anyone with fewer than five years of experience in tango is still considered a novice. Novices are often the most frustrated; they yearn to dance tango well but are unsure how to achieve it. There is so much they have yet to learn, including proper etiquette at milongas. Each novice faces their own challenges and holds opinions about others, but experienced dancers rarely partner with them. As a result, they remain within their own circle, frequently blaming one another for their struggles. The irony of "the pot calling the kettle black" is that their struggles are often quite similar. When one accuses the other of stiffness, the other is likely thinking the same thing. By the time they master the steps, feelings may be hurt, and relationships strained.

Beginners often don’t realize that, whether they like it or not, the people they learn tango with are the most significant figures in their tango journey, who will likely dance together for years because in each city there is only a limited number of them (see 惜缘). It is wiser to accept one another and allow time for mutual growth. In life, if you like someone, you compliment them; if you tell them they are unattractive, they may not want to see you again. The same principle applies if you want to dance with someone: always speak positively about their dance, even if they ask for an honest opinion. How many husbands have found themselves in trouble after giving an overly honest answer? Remember, tango is more than just a dance; it is a relationship, an art of love (see Tango Is a Relationship).

Robert Farris Thompson wrote in his book, Tango, the Art History of Love, that tango "is the dance that teaches the world to love." The idea of tango is to welcome another person into your personal space, to accept that person, to be considerate, cooperative, yielding and accommodating, to surrender and be one with them, to listen to their inner whispers and feelings, to enjoy the intimacy, and to bring love, pleasure and contentment to them. It is a different idea from what our culture stands for, that is, individualism, independence, self-interest and aggression. Hopefully, tango will make us a better person who treats others with respect, appreciation and love, accept them as who they are, and put others instead of oneself at the center of one's life and dance. Until then, we are not qualified as tango dancers and cannot dance tango well anyway (see A Dance that Teaches People to Love).

Tango: Historical and Cultural Impacts

Today, Buenos Aires is home to one-third of Argentina's 45 million people. However, in the early 19th century, Buenos Aires was just a small town populated by Spanish colonists, indigenous South Americans, and Black slaves. In May 1810, inspired by the French Revolution, the Argentine people rebelled against Spanish rule and proclaimed independence. The new government made a conscious decision to change the demographic composition through immigration from Spain, Italy, and other parts of Europe. By the end of the 19th century, the original population of Buenos Aires had been completely overwhelmed by European immigrants. While tango has African roots, the primary inventors of tango were European immigrants of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, who came to participate in the construction of modern Buenos Aires.

The fact that tango was created primarily by immigrants is significant. Far from home, disproportionately male, and facing difficult lives, the immigrants were deeply nostalgic. They came to the milonga to dance away their loneliness, homesickness, nostalgia, and grief, to find a shoulder to lean on, to quench their thirst for love, and to touch and be touched by someone of the opposite sex. Tango was their refuge. The intimate, soulful, sensual, and comforting nature of tango reflects and serves these deep, inward human needs. That is why tango is danced in a close embrace, with dancers leaning into each other, chest to chest, and face touching face. Through such intimate physical contact, they communicate their emotions, stirred by the music, through the dance. Like the dance itself, tango music is created to express nostalgic feelings. Its rhythm is masculine—robust, sharp, and rigid—while its melody is feminine—soft, moody, and beautiful. These contrasting moods intertwine and respond to each other, reflecting the dynamic between the man and woman in the dance (see The Characteristics of Classic Tango).

Tango reached its maturity and dominated the culture of Buenos Aires between 1935 and 1955, a period known as tango's Golden Age. The Golden Age was followed by nearly three decades of the Dark Age, during which tango virtually disappeared. In 1955, a military coup ousted Juan Domingo Perón, the democratically elected president. Perón and his wife Eva Perón had actively supported tango. Dancers aligned with their government were viewed with suspicion by the anti-Peronist juntas, who created an environment hostile to tango. Curfews were enforced, and pedestrians were interrogated by military police. Many were arrested or simply disappeared due to their links to the old regime. As a result, people stopped dancing socially, and tango went underground. Tango music produced during the Dark Age was primarily for listening, not dancing. The revival of tango began with the restoration of democracy in 1983. Since then, tango has regained worldwide popularity and is now danced in most countries and cities across Europe and North America.

As one BBC commentator remarked, “Tango contains a secret about the yearning between men and women.” In many cultures, intimacy between the sexes is considered inherently sexual and therefore taboo. In these societies, men and women are not expected to have physical contact unless they intend to pursue a sexual relationship. Argentine tango, however, represents a different perspective—a culture that embraces innocent intimacy. Due to their immigrant status and a largely Spanish and Italian heritage, Argentinians form a closely-knit community, and tango reflects their cultural values. The triumph of tango lies in its idea: that non-sexual intimacy can be decent, human, healthy, and beautiful.

However, this triumph did not come without a price. Many things changed after the Golden Age. The immigrant population settled, gender imbalances stabilized, and many old dancers passed away. An entire generation grew up without knowing how to dance tango. The only form of tango that survived the Dark Age was stage tango. As a result, the revival of tango was led by stage performers who, in 1983-1984, brought their show, Tango Argentino, to Europe and North America, sparking enthusiasm for their style of tango—tango fantasia, which differs from the social tango danced during the Golden Age.

The tango danced in the Golden Age is known as tango de salón, or social tango. It is a popular dance, suited to the tastes, needs, and abilities of ordinary people. Danced on crowded floors for personal enjoyment rather than performance, social tango is intimate, feeling-oriented, and improvisational. It is typically danced in a close embrace, with significant physical contact between partners. Its simple, compact steps allow dancers to focus inwardly on the emotions evoked by the music and the sensations of two connected bodies moving in sync. Governed by milonga codes, social tango offers a warm, soulful, and deeply personal experience. What matters is how it feels, not how it looks.

Tango fantasia, or show tango, on the other hand, is designed for stage performance. This dramatized form of tango involves complex steps and techniques suited to skilled professionals rather than everyday dancers. It is a flashy, movement-oriented, and choreographed dance, often performed in an open embrace to allow for broader movements. Its expansive, dazzling steps are often dangerous and require ample space. Unlike social tango, it prioritizes visual impact over intimacy or comfort. Show tango does not adhere to milonga codes and is unsuitable for crowded dance floors. Here, what matters is how it looks, not how it feels (see Social Tango and Performance Tango).

Lacking the same cultural context, Europeans and Americans were more captivated by tango fantasia than tango de salón. They did not experience an immigrant influx in a newly built city, nor did they endure the same hardships, homesickness, or gender imbalances (see The Chivalry of the Milongueros). Their dance floors were less crowded, and their cultures did not endorse innocent, nonsexual intimacy. Furthermore, their instructors were stage performers from Argentina. Inevitably, tango fantasia became the prevailing style in Europe and North America.

Even so, the renewed global interest in tango reignited the pride of Argentinians for their traditional dance. Milongas were reopened, porteños returned to the dance floor, and tango clubs and bars once again thrived. Tango music, fashion, and tourism flourished. Buenos Aires reclaimed its status as the Mecca of tango, attracting dancers worldwide eager to experience tango alongside locals. However, visitors quickly realized that the tango they had learned at home was not the same as the tango danced in Buenos Aires.

Having tasted the intriguing close-embrace tango of Buenos Aires, most visitors don’t want to go back to the open-embrace style. Some chose to stay, while others brought their newfound knowledge back home, spreading the message. Each year, the number of people traveling to Buenos Aires to dance tango grows. Consequently, the trend in Europe and North America is gradually shifting from open embrace to close embrace. It may take time for close-embrace tango to become the dominant style in these regions, but I believe it is inevitable. Tango exists to fulfill a human need (see Why People Dance Tango). Its form must serve its purpose. Trends come and go, but what is fundamental and essential endures. As more people appreciate the allure of close-embrace tango and as milongas grow more popular and crowded, dancers will naturally gravitate toward the close-embrace style. In time, what belongs to the stage will separate from what belongs to the dance floor, again.

Here is an example of the tango danced in the milongas of Buenos Aires.

Dissociation and Gear Effect

The woman must place her weight on the ball of her foot in order to pivot as if on a fixed pin. But she does not pivot her whole body, she only pivots her lower body from the waist down. The waist is like the swivel that joins the upper body and the lower body. Since her torso is attached to his torso in the embrace, she needs to rotate her lower body sideways in order to move around him. This technique is known as dissociation.

An experienced woman knows that a subtle twist of her torso by the man indicates and must result in a big rotation of her lower body. The man leads her by turning her torso slightly in the direction he wants her to move. On receiving the signal, she needs to swivel her hips and pivot her lower body in that direction. In this twisted posture she can place her right leg on his right, or her left leg on his left, while her torso stays attached to his torso in close embrace. This hip rotation doesn't need to be very big. In most cases a 45° rotation of the hips will enable her to step to his side. In some cases, such as in molinete, gancho, and back sacada, a greater rotation of the hips is required.

It is worth noting that dissociation is different from contra body movement (CBM). CBM is turning the right side of the body towards a left moving leg or turning the left side of the body towards a right moving leg. Dissociation, in contrast, is turning the upper body without turning the lower body, or turning the lower body without turning the upper body. Both are forms of dissociation. The former is not difficult to do, but the latter is hard and needs a lot of practice to master. When you practice disociation in front of a mirror, you should keep your torso facing the mirror still and swivel only your hips. You should not cheat by turning the torso instead of swiveling the hips.

A typical figure using dissociation is the front ocho, in which the woman draws an S on the floor with one leg, then draws another S on the floor with the other leg. The two S's are overlapped in the opposite directions, so they look like the figure 8. To dance the 8, she first swivels her hips and make a forward step to one side of the man. While her weight is shifted to the acting leg, she swivels her hips again and makes another forward step in the opposite direction. She then swivels her hips back to face him. Another similar figure using this technique is the back ocho, where she dances the 8 backward. She first swivels her hips and make a backward step to one side of him, then swivels her hips and make another backward step to the other side of him. If she is able to over rotate her hips, she can move forward by doing the back ocho and move backward by doing the front ocho. A third example using dissociation is the molinete, a figure in which the woman revolves around the man who serves as the anchor for her rotation. In all these examples the woman keeps her torso attached to the man's torso and rotates only her hips side to side. The technique suits the flexible body of the woman and highlights her feminine beauty, as she continuously turns her hips while her torso remains parallel to his torso.

In close embrace, the rotation of her hips will cause her chest to roll on his chest, generating a pleasant sensation know as the gear effect. The chests are where dancers' attentions are focused, from there everything, including intention, music interpretation, feeling, flirtation, etc., is expressed and exchanged. The woman should not glue her torso to the man's torso but should let it roll while her hips are rotating. With each swivel of the hips her chest rolls to one side on his torso. As she swivels her hips in the opposite drection, her chest rolls to the other side on his torso.

The rolling of the chest must not be so conspicuous and abrupt as to cause discomfort. In most cases it is just a smooth transfer of weight from one breast to the other breast. She needs to make the transfer gentle, musical and comfortable. A novice woman who can't do dissociation either turns her whole body, causing the rupture of the embrace, or just crosses her legs without swiveling her hips, so her chest sticks to his torso and does not trundle. Tango is a dance in which the dancers interact and please each other with their bodies. An experienced woman knows how to use her body to comfort her partner, just like an experienced man knows how to display her feminine beauty (see Revealing her Beauty in Tango). Gear effect increases the sensual pleasure of the dance - a feature of the close-embrace tango that is missing in the open-embrace style. It is one of the things that make the two styles fundamentally different.

Issues on Balance and Lightness in Dance

The sense induced by the change of the body’s location and position is called the sense of equilibrium. The semicircular canal and vestibule in the inner ear are organs related to this sense. Those whose equilibrium organs are dysfunctional due to disease, drug or alcoholism cannot keep balance well. Balance can be improved through training. Woman gymnasts, for example, can do difficult movements on a balance beam. Acrobats rely on their trained sense of equilibrium to do high wire walk. Experienced dancers also have a good sense of equilibrium so they can stay balanced in complex movements.

In bicycling one uses wheels to keep balance. In dancing one uses legs and steps to keep balance. All tango dancers need a good sense of equilibrium, but that is particularly true for the woman partner because she is the one being driven by the man. The man leads her by tilting her in the direction he wants her to move. How far she moves, however, is decided by her own sense of equilibrium. If she steps not exactly where she could keep her balance, she will fall. A falling woman relies on the man for her stability, thus becomes heavy. The man may not mind if the woman occasionally holds on to him for balance, but if she hangs on him all the time and grabs him tightly in every move and turn, that could be burdensome for him. A woman must know that maintaining her own balance is the key for her to be light in dance. Some women habitually rely on the man for balance, as a result their sense of equilibrium fails to improve.

Tango has a unique balance problem because the two partners lean against each other to form an A-shaped frame. The A-shaped frame is a stable frame in which the partners support each other. A novice woman may not realize that her support for the man is equally important as his for her. If she leans back, that could pull him off his balance. This often happens when dancing with a woman who is shy about intimacy.

On the other hand, some women lean too much on the man and become heavy. Dancing in a leaning position requires strength on the back. A woman with a weak back cannot sustain a reclining posture for long, especially when the man holds her tightly. An experienced woman maintains certain resistance in symmetry to the force that the man applies on her in both directions - his chest pushes her out and his arm pulls her in. Some women counteract the man with too much force, thus become heavy. Maintaining balance is maintaining a state of stillness, uniform-speed rectilinear motion, or uniform-speed winding motion, not doing wrestling. The woman must be careful about how much resistance she applies to counteract the man to avoid being heavy.

Novice women tend to rely on men to drive them when dancing, and due to their inadequate dance skills they often move in hesitance, or hold on to the man tightly with their arms and hands to help themselves with the movements, thus become heavy. For a woman to be light in dance, she should activate herself instead of relying on the man to move her. An experienced woman does so by pushing with her standing leg. She dances like a self-propelled mower, thus feels light. However, it is important to strike a balance between being proactive and following lead. Women who drive themselves too much can make men feel like they are dancing on their own.

The man, on the other hand, should not put pressure on the woman's waist, as that would restricte her movements. A tall man should use his stomach rather than chest to lead a short woman and not bend his torso to add pressure on her since that could cause her to bend backwards if she does not have a strong back. As her strength and balance improve, she may sustain more pressure, lean more on the man to expand her movement possibility, or even want him to hold her on her waist. Men often see experienced dancers dance this way or that way, and some may try to imitate before their partner is ready. Keep in mind that tango can be danced in various ways. One should choose a way that suits the ability of one's partner.

Why People Dance Tango

The reason we dance tango is deeply tied to the somber side of life. Some people claim they dance tango because they enjoy tango music, yet they could simply listen to it at home. Others say they appreciate the movements, but those can be found in other dance forms as well. Some argue they are drawn to the unrestrained nature of tango, but martial arts could provide similar satisfaction. Others highlight the artistic challenges of tango, though ballet arguably sets an even higher standard. If these were the only reasons people danced tango, then tango itself might not exist—because there are countless alternatives.

Tango triumphs for a unique reason. While most dances are created to celebrate life, tango serves a different purpose. It was born from the sorrows of the less fortunate, offering them a refuge. They do not come to the milonga to show off, but to expose their vulnerability and seek solace. Tango allows them to dance through their loneliness, homesickness, nostalgia, and grief. It offers a shoulder to lean on, a sanctuary for their wounds, a way to quench their thirst for love, and a chance to touch and be touched by another human being.

These are ordinary people—poor individuals, immigrants, construction workers, waiters, waitresses, shop assistants, maids, and taxi drivers. They may lack splendor in appearance, but you feel their authenticity when you dance with them. Their embrace is warm and consoling, their feelings sincere and profound, their hearts sensitive and compassionate, their movements raw and infectious, and their dance sentimental and affectionate. Tango is their catharsis of suffering, agony, yearning, and hope. Its intimate, soulful, sensual, and comforting nature reflects and fulfills their deep, innate human needs. This is the tango still danced in less affluent societies like Argentina and Uruguay.

Not everyone shares these needs, of course. Successful, affluent, arrogant, and superficial individuals, for instance, may appreciate the beauty of tango but fail to embrace its deeper purpose. Instead, they use tango to celebrate their lives, glorify their successes, flaunt their style, display their egos, and boast of their superiority. The traditional tango is too modest for them, so they make changes—opening up the embrace, inventing fancy steps, incorporating ostentatious tricks, and using exotic music. As a result, they have created a showy version of tango that looks flashy but feels hollow. This kind of tango has now become the trend in opulent societies like ours.

Tango has weathered many challenges in the past, and it will survive this one as well, I believe. Needs, desires, yearnings, loneliness, love, interdependence, tenderness, sentimentality, and romanticism are intrinsic to human nature, even among the toughest individuals. The less fortunate people are particularly vulnerable, which is why they created tango. This may also explain why milongas are more crowded during difficult times than in prosperous ones, why more women dance tango than men, and why the revival of tango happens now when there are more travelers, immigrants and refugees in the world than ever before.

Tango will always be the dance of the lonely, homesick, nostalgic, needy, vulnerable, sentimental, and romantic. Fortunate people need tango too, provided they are not blinded by their success and arrogance. After all, we are human, and tango is for everyone who seeks to reconnect with their humanity.

Cadencia

Beginners often assume that dancing to music simply means stepping on the beat, but there is much more to it. One crucial element is cadencia—the swing of the body. In other words, dancing to music involves not only timing steps but also timing the swings of the body in rhythm with the music. Cadencia is a fundamental technique essential to the dance's fluidity but frequently overlooked.

To learn cadencia, you must first learn to swing your leg. Begin by lifting the hip on the free-leg side until that leg hangs loosely and can dangle freely like a pendulum. Keep the knee and ankle straight so the leg looks long and can swing gracefully. Now, envision that your leg does not start from the hip but from the chest. That is, imagine everything below your chest is your leg. Since the chest is the point of connection with your partner, it can serve as a fixed point to swing everything below as a whole. That way, not only your leg appears longer, but your entire body also looks tall and elegant.

Swinging the body can be compared to swinging a cudgel with three linked sections: the torso as the first section, the hip as the second, and the leg as the third. Movement begins with the torso, which propels the hip, which in turn drives the leg. In other words, the body’s swing is a chain reaction. Novice dancers often rely on their thighs to move their legs, because their focus is on stepping rather than swinging. Consequently, there is no cadencia. To generate cadencia, you need to use your torso to initiate the swing of your hip and leg. Keep your body tall and resilient to achieve a controlled, pendulum-like swing, avoiding the fluttering motion akin to a soft ribbon.

The swing occurs laterally. Many students overlook this side-to-side motion and instead focus on the vertical action of stepping. To create cadencia, emphasize the body's lateral motion with each step, producing a pulsating rhythm akin to surging waves. Each surge propels the body into a swing, then reverse the process, sending the body into an opposite swing. This rhythmic, wave-like motion—akin to riding a swing—is what cadencia embodies in Spanish.

Cadencia is a collaborative effort that relies on the man’s initiative. Leaders must be aware that whether the follower’s body swings to the music depending, in part, on the lead. Often, the woman fails to step on the beat because her body is led to swing either too little or too much, too slowly or too fast, disrupting her foot from landing naturally on the beat. An experienced man generates just the right amount of swing to ensure the woman’s foot lands exactly on the beat. Similarly, a skilled woman times the swing of her body to the music as well. She does her part to complement the lead.

While cadencia is used in both social tango and performance tango, it is primarily a social tango technique designed to enhance the sensual pleasure of the dance rather than creating a visual impression. Both partners must have matching musicality and balance control to swing together—a skill that does not come naturally and requires adequate training. However, once mastered, the sensation of two connected bodies swinging in sync with the music makes the dance infinitely more enjoyable. (See Cadencia and the Flow of Tango.)

The following video illustrates this technique:

Related videos:

Cadencia - the pendulum effect

Tango close embrace, connection, cadencia

Tango Is a Language (II)

To communicate effectively, you need to speak the same language. If you use a different language, adopt an unusual accent, or employ self-invented words, understanding becomes difficult. This issue is prevalent in tango as well. Different leaders often lead the same step differently, and different followers frequently respond in varying ways to the same lead. Leaders complain that followers are not following correctly, while followers blame unclear signals from leaders. These happen often because dancers do not share the same tango language.

Many students fail to recognize the importance of standardization. They disregard instructions, overlook the fundamentals, and ignore established standards. This tendency is particularly noticeable among those embracing unconventional methods or seeking to dance in ways that deviate from traditional tango. Some tango teachers exacerbate the problem by introducing self-invented, nonstandard steps unsuitable for social dancing. While such innovations may work on stage—where professional performers rehearse routines with fixed partners—this approach becomes problematic in milongas. In social settings where partners are randomly paired, successful communication and harmonious improvisation hinge on adhering to shared standards. Without these common standards, dancers struggle to connect and achieve unity.

Social media further complicates tango's fragmented language. Many students mistakenly view the performances they see online as the standard for tango. However, these exhibitions often feature stage tango, which differs greatly from the social tango danced in milongas (see Social Tango and Performance Tango).

The tango most widely danced in milongas is social tango, particularly the milonguero style. This grassroots dance continues to flourish in Buenos Aires, attracting tango enthusiasts from around the world who come to experience the indigenous, authentic tango at over two hundred milongas throughout the city. No matter what tango language you speak at home, when you visit Buenos Aires you realize that their language is the tango language you must conform to. If social tango needs a standard language to become an international dance, that must be the language of Buenos Aires.

Examining the histories of other languages can provide valuable insights into this matter. The Chinese language, for example, has historically evolved into many local dialects due to geographical barriers, making communication challenging between people from different regions. Over the past century, the Chinese have endeavored to promote a standard dialect. This goal has only been partially accomplished in recent decades, primarily due to the widespread use of Mandarin in media broadcasting and school education. However, despite progress, many Chinese residing in rural areas still use local dialects incomprehensible to outsiders.

If you study Chinese, you want to study Mandarin and not a local dialect. Likewise, if you learn tango, you want to learn Argentine tango and not Finnish tango or American tango. If your purpose is to dance tango in the milongas, you want to study social tango and not performance tango, and you want to learn the milonguero style danced in the milongas of Buenos Aires, not some self-invented and localized style danced only in a university campus in North America. Some university campuses in North America are quite isolated. They rarely associate with other tango communities and seldom invite outside teachers in to teach. As a result, they developed their own tango dialect unfamiliar to tango dancers elsewhere.

Similarly, foreigners visiting Buenos Aires often find it challenging to dance with the locals because they dance differently from the locals. As tango gains worldwide popularity, the risk of it splintering into multiple dialects increases. If we are not careful, we may end up repeating the history of the Chinese language.

Here is how Argentinians dance tango in their milongas.