And shoes too.

Tango shoes. Never thought I'd ever buy shoes like that.
The saleswoman has a shop right next to the room where we get our lessons. Smart. Direct import from Buenos Aires. Handmade, beautiful lightweight shoes.
I hesitate. Expensive, and the style....
She says: "Now you look like a gangster. They use to dance very well, you know." But I do not know if want to look like a gangster...
Then I remember a scene in Pixar's Cars, with Luigi, the tireguy. It's a fantastic scene where he talks about the colour of tires (=shoes), and what this can do for you.

Luigi: No,no,no,no! You don't-a know what you want. Luigi know what you want. Blackwall tires. They blend into the pavement. But-a this...white-wall tires! They say, "Look at me! Here I am! Love me."

Hmm. Maybe my new tangoshoes shall do the same for me...?
Allright, I'll take them. I'll be a gangster on the dancefloor. They'll all look at me, and love me.

My first steps

I started to look at YouTube video's. I was curious and wondered, how do they do that. With movements so light, two people moving as one, across the dance floor. I wanted so much to be able to do that as well.
My teachers learned us every new lesson one or two new steps. I understood their method:

"We do not teach you sequences of steps, but in stead the basic elements. So you can choose at any time what to do. Imagine you are out there on the dance floor, on a Milonga, and you want to perform something, and then suddenly you do not have the space to move. If you learned a sequence, your body remembers, and you are forced to continue. You would have a problem. But if you learn elements of steps, you can stop and choose another move in stead."

I agreed. It's like having a box with Lego bricks . With the right elements one can build anything. Improvisation, I like that.

It's like a language. Learn the words, write the poem.

Right.....Not..... On the dance floor...oh boy.... something else happens. One forgets! All of a sudden one is mute, without words. No poem at all. I think this is all part of being a beginner.

How I long to be able to move across the dance-floor, light, like a feather. Two people move as one.

The position of the body.

In the early lessons we did a lot about the position of the body. Normally one does not pay so much attention on how to stand, how to walk. But these 'simple things' appeared to be crucial in tango. They are not so simple at all. For a beginner like me almost too much to 'grab' at once. I think the teachers understand that, so this came back later, on several occasions.

What do I remember from the early lessons.
For starters, we did some exercises like stretching, to loosen up. Then the standing itself. Feet together. Knees straight, but at the same time slightly bended. Spine straight, like a stick. Head slightly bended forward while stretching the neck. Chin down, but without looking down. Did I mention that we're supposed to be relaxed at the same time? Tension, focus. The walking and standing became an act of being aware, of having focus all the time. And never let go.

Walking.

I started writing this weblog some half a year after my first lessons. Therefore I must recall things from memory, but that's not a bad thing. My first impressions are fresh enough to be vivid, but at the same time I can take a bit of a distance.

As I mentioned in the preview, I have no background as a dancer. Sure, I did solo-move on music, but when it came to close dancing I had problems with the 'strict rules' that suddenly seemed to be necessary. In order to NOT step on someones toes....
I thought that also tango was about rules. But I was wrong. To improvise means that you write your own rules on the spot. Now I have the feeling that there are other rules. Unwritten ones. Secrets ones. Ones without words......


So, what do I remember from my very first tango lesson?

We walked. Solo, for several rounds. Strangely enough that became confusing. If you really watch and feel yourself walking, something strange happens. It's like saying a word over and over again. That word suddenly becomes strange, unfamiliar, odd, redicilous, and in the end it looses it's meaning that was so natural before. Just try to say 'home' (in your own language) one hundred times. See? Home is gone. That happened with that walking too. I became aware of my legs, my feet, my back, I became stiff in the neck, the walking became ridiculous. Then we walked on music, a rather slow tango with a very clear line in the music. Now there was some progress. The ridiculous walking and the music became like one. Hesitating, but clear. the music helped me to walk in another way.
The next step was walking with two, as a pair. Leader forward, follower backwards. We held each other by the shoulder. The leader walked at free will, could slow down, stand still, start walking again. The follower, well, had to follow. No pushing with the arms, just a light touch. And boy did I sweat.
We practiced a simple step too. One side, two forward, side again, close and stop. Nice. We even started dancing, I believe...

That was the beginning. This part came back several times. Walking is important, I know now. Someone told me that the beauty with tango is that you actually can just walk on the dance floor, in the same rhythm with the others. I remembered those words later, the moments that I forgot all of my steps......