black and white wallpapers

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hayden panettiere wallpapers

bibi jones wallpaper hd 2011

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Birthdays

We celebrate Manolo's 79th birthday at La Baldosa.  It was time for friends, tango, and of course, flaming, exploding birthday cake!

Last week, I received a lovely email from Martha and Manolo, wishing me an extremely Happy Birthday with lots of hugs and kisses - all in UPPERCASE in giant purple letters.

It was very sweet - except it wasn't my birthday! "Luckily," I replied, "My birthday isn't going to be for another five months - so I have a chance to be young for a little while longer!"

I was just joking.  But if I think about the way I was brought up, I am extremely lucky I did not become a complete mental case when it came to birthdays.

Growing up, I had a vague idea that birthdays were supposed to be positive things - but the way my mother approached it, they were a cause of dread not only for her but for our entire family.  All through her late thirties and right up until she turned fifty, my mother would sport even blacker moods than usual when her "Special Day" was near.  Just breathing in her presence would annoy her - we walked on eggshells.  My mother's unhappiness made us nervous and jumpy, just waiting...waiting until she exploded, glaring and screeching with irrational fury at the slightest little thing.

What was it that made birthdays so unbearable for my mother?  She had three wonderful kids who never gave her any trouble (even though she claims disapprovingly that we are "sunken investments" - I have no idea what that means) and all of us made it through university.  My father was - and still is a devoted, loyal, loving husband - who listens and follows to whatever she dictates. My father and mother both had amazing jobs.   The house was fully paid for even before my parents turned forty - and they never needed to finance their cars.  And lastly, my mother looked, and still looks, great - she is still skinnier, taller, better proportioned than me, with the kind of frame that makes all clothes look spectacular on her.

Family, friends and acquaintances always envied my mother's perfect life.  But I have awful memories of her birthdays - including one in which she locked herself into her bedroom and my father told us to try not to make any noise - "Your mother has a headache", he said, fearfully.

Thankfully, my mother seems a lot better now than she was before.  Unfortunately, we are not the kind of family that talks about these things, so I will never know what was bothering her so much before.*  Was she worried about aging, losing her youth and beauty?  She had a husband who didn't care a jot and would love her anyway no matter what.  Was she disheartened that the years were passing and that she had not accomplished anything remarkable?  Raising three children in a completely new country far from home and being mortgage-free, is tremendous enough by itself.  Was she disappointed at the gifts that she got - that they weren't diamond rings or cruises or luxury leather goods?  OK, so we got her boxes of chocolate or pairs of socks with the pocket money we scraped together - it wasn't much to look at, but it was from the heart.

I giggled when I received that email from Martha and Manolo - I had to correct them, that it was actually Man Yung's birthday and not mine - but it didn't matter. We both appreciated their good wishes.  It was nice to know that they were thinking about us - we think of them and all our friends in Buenos Aires often too. We exchange emails, send messages on Facebook and call them every few weeks - just to see how they are, and they are overjoyed to hear from us too.

With great friends (and teachers) like Martha and Manolo and a wonderful husband like Man Yung, every day is a day I look forward to - living, loving, dancing, laughing.  Every day is "Happy Birthday".  I don't think you could beat that.

* I could only speculate that it was something like a mid-life crisis/depression thing going on.  Now that I am around the same age that my mother was when she was acting like that around her birthday, I am happy to say that I have no fear of turning into the same kind of monster that she became - probably thanks to Tango!  While her material life was as good as it gets, perhaps my mother needed some spiritual and emotional nourishment that she wasn't getting enough of.  My mother has taken up Tai-Chi in recent years, and it could be that this is helping her cope.

Alberto Dassieu in Portugal and Switzerland

This just in (actually, we received an inquiry) - the schedules for Alberto's workshops in Lisbon and Zurich over the next few weeks.

In Lisbon:

As for Alberto's Zurich schedule, the organizer Ms. Catherine Funk advised us that there will be workshops on May 14 and 15, 2011 at Club Silbando - from 13:00 to 15:00 vals, and 15:30 to 17:30 tango. 

For more information, please follow the link to the websites of La Morocha Lucena and Club Silbando.

A Philosophical Question

We were having lunch with Alberto and Paulina at a cosy little parilla called "La Cañada" (coincidence? No, it's not the same as "Canada") one sunny afternoon.  Our conversation turned to musicality - and to one question that has been bothering us ever since we started tango.

"When you teach, you always emphasize that people should listen and dance to the music. That's straightforward, intuitive advice. However, how can we explain the droves of people in tango who don't listen to the music when they dance?  We can't believe that there are teachers out there actually teaching people to completely disregard the music.  Could it be true that there are some people who are born with an inability to hear or move to the music?"

Alberto and Paulina thought for a moment, and Paulina spoke.  "Well, I suppose that may be the case...that people's perceptions are different.  What I consider to be 'to the music' may not be the same as what someone else perceives - this is a possibility that you have to account for."  Paulina is a professor of philosophy and is a licensed psychoanalyst as well, so perhaps that's where her viewpoint is coming from.

"So, let's recap - while it appears that we (you and Alberto and the two of us) seem to be on the same wavelength as to what is "to the music" or "not to the music" when it comes to dancing, there may be some people out there who we would observe on the dance floor and conclude are completely "off." We have to realize that these individuals could actually think they are doing a perfectly fine job of listening and dancing to the music?"

Alberto and Paulina both nodded.  "Precisely."

"Is there any way to help these poor folk? And what we mean is - the most obstinate, intractable cases?"

Paulina shrugged.  "It's hard to say." 

We're just glad that we aren't one of those who Alberto and Paulina would consider beyond hope!

****************************************************************

This April, we had the chance to present the same question to Osvaldo and Coca.  We were zipping along in the streets of Buenos Aires in their little brown car, on our way to yet another milonga.  We just had an excellent class with them at El Tacuari - in which they exhorted to their students their endless mantra, "Listen to the music!  Listen to the music!"

"In class, you asked your students to listen to the music.  But so many people don't, and not just the beginners, but world famous professionals too. We cringe when they dance.  Could it be that they are unable to?" we asked.

Osvaldo and Coca both erupted in unison. "No, don't be silly!  Everyone can!"  The car swerved. "They are just not listening!"

****************************************************************

So, take your pick:  Are you not listening to the music when you dance because you can't...or because you won't?

Alberto Dassieu - Performances at Paradiso's 14th Anniversary milonga, April 22, 2011

Two of the many highlights of Paradiso's fabulous 14th Anniversary bash on April 22, 2011 were the performances by Maestro Alberto Dassieu.  Here are the videos of the performances - the first to Osvaldo Pugliese's tango "Arrabal", the second to Juan D'Arienzo's vals "Desde el Alma":





A big thank you to Regina and Patricia of Paradiso for bringing Alberto Dassieu to Toronto - and for keeping the flame of traditional Argentine Tango burning bright here in the city with their milonga for 14 years.  Congratulations!

*  Who is dancing with Alberto in the videos?  Yes, it's me, a.k.a. Irene of "Irene and Man Yung's Tango Blog" (Man Yung wanted to too but Alberto said no, sorry).  While Man Yung and I have performed in the past both here in Toronto and in Buenos Aires on numerous occasions, an opportunity for me to do an exhibition with our teacher Alberto is a great honour.  Alberto has made a huge difference in our dancing - I don't think I really started to understand what it is to follow until we started taking classes with Alberto and were able to partake in the wisdom he has from all his decades of experience in tango.  Thank you so much, Maestro - and thank you also to all the lovely, kind people who came up to me afterwards to tell me that they enjoyed this performance!  A big hug to you all - you made my day!

Defensive Driving

Ouch!

Last tanda of the evening.  The floor had thinned out considerably - people have to work the next day.

Half-way through the first tango, Man Yung got kicked - by a guy who was dancing behind him. It was the intrepid tailgater - AGAIN.

This guy's modus operandi involves bumping - and then looking sheepish.   The fact that he is swinging his left arm out like a crane and charging into and kicking people does not seem wrong to him.  I imagine he collides so many times a night it he feels like he hasn't danced if he doesn't get his quota of tackles. "Whoops-a-daisy!" he must be thinking, plus - "What jolly, harmless fun!"

As for saying sorry - NEVER.

Meeting face-to-face after the milonga, Man Yung couldn't stop himself from pointing out the obvious to The Lord High Tailgater.  "There's more than enough space, you don't have to crash into the people in front of you!" said Man Yung, exasperated.

"No," he said.

It was my turn.  "You are always like this.  One time, there were only two couples on the whole dance floor - you had the whole room between four people and still you had to go right up into the couple in front of you.  All this space and you were practically up Man Yung's ass!  What's wrong with you?"

"That's just your ego talking, " he said, snidely.

I can't explain to you what exactly he meant by that, but I can interpret it as the following:

1.  It's his version of a witty repartee;

2.  He has serious impairment in conceptualizing space.  Or alternatively/concurrently, he has no sense of personal space;

3.  Of course he doesn't remember when he has violated other people's dance space - it's just normal to him because it happens all the time;

4.  He absolutely, unequivocally, obstinately refuses to accept responsibility for being such an a**hole on the dance floor.

Many men try to be better leaders - better at navigation, better with floorcraft, better at expressing the music.  They enjoy tango more - and get better dances with better followers - as a result.

However, some leaders are just content on being bad dancers - until eternity.  Some women will still dance with them anyway!  Unfortunately, no amount of defensive driving can help you from being ambushed from behind by this kind of tailgating folk.

Alberto Dassieu and Isabella Szymonowicz perform at La Cachila Toronto, April 17, 2011

For your instant viewing pleasure: performances  by Maestro Alberto Dassieu and Toronto's very own talented and always lovely Isabella Szymonowicz at La Cachila Toronto last night:

Alberto Dassieu and Isabella Szymonowicz perform to Carlos Di Sarli's Tango "Llueve otra vez" at La Cachila milonga Toronto, April 17, 2011.

Alberto Dassieu and Isabella Szymonowicz perform to Juan D'Arienzo's Vals "Pabellon de las Rosas" at La Cachila milonga Toronto, April 17, 2011.

Alberto Dassieu continues classes and workshops in Toronto over the next week and a half.  For more information, please follow this link to Paradiso's website.

Scents of Buenos Aires

We just came back from our trip from wonderful, glittering Buenos Aires last week...and we miss it already!

Since we came back, it seems that everything is working to erode the beautiful feeling of Buenos Aires right out of our bodies.  There's work; there's the naughty cat who pulled all the kitty kibble off the top of the fridge (yes, we're talking to you, Mr. B); there's the charming spectacles of Toronto Tango with the "Are you kidding me, you really think that's tango?" and the tango professional/just a regular dancer ratio of 100:1;  and last but not least, there's the marvelous weather forecast that includes wind, bone-chilling temperatures and SNOW:

Make no mistake, this is not Buenos Aires...this is Toronto in APRIL

So what can we do to keep Buenos Aires with us just a little longer?

We tried calling our porteño friends.  They missed us too, and talked about the milongas they were going to tonight.  Sigh.  That makes us wish even more that we were there.

Instead of indulging in Neo-no-no-Tango, Ta-Chango, Craperango etc. as is the wont of many of those tango-ing here in "The Big Smoke", we danced the traditional way that the porteños danced, with old-fangled embraces and old-fashioned sentiment.  With my eyes closed (and therefore not paying attention to some of the nastier atrocities on the dance floor), I could almost feel myself gliding along the tile or sprung wood floors of our favourite Buenos Aires milongas.

It also really helps if you have visiting porteño friends here - for example, Maestro Alberto Dassieu.

If all else fails, you can book your next trip now.  Or you could try this, a trick that I've stumbled upon that works like magic.

Every time you go to Buenos Aires, buy a new bottle of perfume from the duty-free shop at the airport.  Make sure it's something nice you could live with - and something you haven't tried before.

While in Buenos Aires, spray your chosen scent liberally every time you go out. Proceed to have the most wonderful, exciting, pleasant time possible.  The key word is pleasant. Avoid anything all things ugly - like arguing with waiters and taxi drivers, hanging around and having conversations with tango tourists who rub you the wrong way with their arrogance and self-importance, watching tango performances with too much visible underwear, etc. Gravitate towards sublime dances with milongueros and milongueras, and anything involving big hugs and lots of affectionate kisses.

Your perfume will be infused with the great memories you have created.

"Really?" asked Man Yung.

I took the bottle of "Terre D'Hermes" we bought and sprayed it on a pulse point.  We both inhaled deeply.

"I feel like we are in our hotel room in Buenos Aires, just about to go out to a milonga with Osvaldo and Coca!" said Man Yung. 

Until someone can distill the essence of banana licuados, asado, mozzarella pizza, freshly baked empanadas, cobblestones, ruby red malbec wine, diesel fumes, taxis, air conditioning, Gardel, humidity, congested and lively tree-lined streets, tango*, and warm embraces of friends who are more and more like family - into a crystal-cut bottle...this may just be the next best thing.

* Man Yung insists adding to the list - "And Myriam Pincen!"  A milonguera so unforgettable that Man Yung is determined to learn Spanish.  All the combined forces of Martha and Manolo, Alberto and Paulina, Osvaldo and Coca were not enough to get him speaking castellaño - it only took one nod from Myriam and now Man Yung wants to be a porteño too!

Chacarera at Lo de Celia

Alberto Dassieu in Toronto!

We came back to Toronto from Buenos Aires on Thursday - and only a few hours after we came back, we got a phone call from Alberto!

He arrived in Toronto a few days before we did.  We met up with Alberto's wife and dance partner Paulina many times during our trip to Buenos Aires this April, but we all missed him dearly. He was away teaching in the United States.  Now he is here!

Alberto will be teaching in Toronto until the end of April.  For more information, please see Paradiso's website:
http://torontoargentinetango.blogspot.com/

Now we will show you - two sweaters!

For those who really enjoy our posts in the "Irene and Man Yung are too busy to write anything proper and will therefore exhibit knitted goods" series, here's another one - replete with tango action figures and hardcore fair isle knitting!

Two sweaters!  Ta da!

I finished Coca's Westerwick Cardigan about a month ago, had a load of yarn left over and started Man Yung's vest with the same colour pattern.  I finished Man Yung's vest only five days before our flight to Buenos Aires - it was such a rush I didn't even have time to block the sweater.

Was Osvaldo jealous?  No, in fact - I don't think you could pay him to wear a pink multi-coloured sweater.  "How about one in orange - or yellow?" I asked.  Osvaldo stared at me in fright.  "No! No!  Brown, Navy and Burgundy only!"

Old Friends

We were enjoying Martha and Manolo's delicious asado at their pretty little white house in the barrio of Jose Ingeniero when the conversation turned to steps.  Whenever Man Yung is around Manolo, that's where the conversation always leads - no matter whether we are at having dinner at their house, resting in between classes at the Camicando festival, or walking to our car after having buffet at the Mandarin!    Man Yung always wants to learn more from Manolo's own personal style of Milonga and Tango Salon of the 50's, as well as the distinctive styles of dancers who have passed on into history like Manolo's best friends Juan Bruno and Rodolfo Cieri. Manolo is a living encyclopedia of tango.

So there they were, gesturing away and pointing here and there to locations on the floor where they could put their feet (Don't ask me, the only things I know how to do is translate or follow) when they came across a complex series of corriditas.  Manolo's face lighted up.  "It reminds me... this is a lovely corridita to do - I always do this when I dance to Milonga Brava!"

Man Yung has encountered this phenomenon too.  Whenever we are dancing to a tango that we have a particularly strong feeling for, I get this sense of deja vu - because Man Yung is doing the same things that he always does for the same tango/vals/milonga, to the same phrase or accent in the music!  It's like he is hypnotized - or perhaps the music is telling him to do this?

In Tango, sometimes the music, the body, the mind and the soul merges.  It's the memories and associations we have that makes tango like a time machine, carrying us back to the scents, sights, sounds and emotions we had the first time - or the hundredth time - we had danced to the music.

That's why the porteños could keep on at it, dancing and performing to the same beautiful nostalgic melodies for half a century, or more.  The more we dance to our favourite tangos, the richer the feeling becomes, and the greater the pleasure.  Volver...they say.  Tango is an old friend, who understands us and knows our secrets and desires.  It's there for us to come back to, to become again as we once were. The people we have loved, the places that we have lost, the times that have gone by - magically appear again to us in the embrace.

Why wouldn't we want to return?  Why should we always be on the hunt for the trendy and new, reinvent ourselves, and bid goodbye to everything that made us who we are?  There's something that Martha and Manolo always say when it is time for us to part again.  "Hasta mañana, hasta mañana!" they say as we hold on to each other in tears - see you tomorrow!  It is never a farewell - because we will always see each other again.

Here is Martha and Manolo, performing to Donato's "El Adíos" at La Baldosa last Friday. Manolo will be turning seventy-nine next Tuesday. We wish them both good health and much happiness, and may they always dance together whenever their favourite music plays:

Graduation

Wow, congratulations...After three years of Cosmotango, they have all graduated and become "Tango Pros"

We were changing into our shoes in the change room at a local Toronto milonga one weekend when an unfamiliar Toronto Tanguero piped up and asked us a question.

"How long have you guys been dancing Tango?" he asked.

"Oh, we are entering into our eighth year," was our remarkably snark-free reply.  We thought it would be polite and friendly to ask him back.  "How long have you been dancing?"

"Five years."  He paused for a moment.  "You guys must be pros by now."

"Absolutely  not!" we said.  "We are definitely not 'pros'.  We are dancing only to enjoy ourselves."

How shocking.

Indeed, in most gringo tango communities, there seems to be an unspoken assumption that the longer you have been dancing, the better you must be - and by golly you should put those skills to good use! If you are persistent, put in long hours, accumulate an impressive resume of workshops and classes  - you will definitely 'graduate' some day and become a 'Tango Pro'.  Four years and automatically you have a Bachelor's... Give it another year and a half, and you'll have a Master's.... a few more years (and you don't even need a dissertation) and you are practically a "Doctor of Tango!"

In fact, when observing particularly obscene dancers gyrating on the dance floors of Toronto, I have been known to say reassuringly to the disgusted onlookers: "Just give them enough time - with a couple of decades under their belt, anyone can become a Milonguero!" 

Well, I was joking.  It's not true.  Time is guarantee of neither quality nor "Pro-worthiness" in Tango. We have persons entering into their first or second decade of Tango here in this city - and getting to be worse tango dancers every day.  Conversely, we have terrific dancers who have been only dancing for a year, two years, three years.  Then, there's the strange phenomenon of dancers who learn so rapidly they seem like "Tango Geniuses" at nine months - but unfortunately never progress any further than that initial growth spurt.  Or those who are fine dancers at year five - but have gone completely downhill by year seven.
   
So, what to do, what to do?  What good is Tango if you can't wave your years of experience around like a big stack of diplomas, opening doors to Tango fame and fortune?

But why should we use Tango as a means to an end?  The only thing we need to do is to enjoy Tango. This does not mean "enjoyment" from learning how to execute fancier steps, or how to gain admiration or attention by putting on a show either on stage on on the dance floor.  It does not mean the "enjoyment" of boasting or bragging or feeling superior because your tango is more sophisticated/athletic/authentic/more like this style and less like another.  It doesn't even mean the "enjoyment" of making a tidy profit from teaching dazzling but impractical moves or forming your own tango cult using psychological manipulation and new-agey mumbo-jumbo.

Enjoy by dancing for no-one but yourself.  Enjoy by going where the music takes you. Enjoy by protecting yourself and your partner on the dance floor - and by respecting and showing consideration for the other dancers sharing the same space.  Enjoy by dancing lightly and gently, without being weighed down by any burden.  Enjoy by making every dance and every embrace meaningful.

Then, with each passing year, Tango friends will become more beloved.  The sensation of Tango in your heart will be sweeter.  Tango music will be a life force.  Your body and your soul will be younger and stronger and more exuberant every day.  That's the moment when we graduate - but we will all be too busy dancing to care.

Drive

My Japanese hair stylist recently moved her salon downtown.  Since she is the only one who could make my bowl cut more like Mia Wallace and less like Edmund, Duke of Edinburgh (or, at the very least, an acceptable compromise between the two - I have tragic hair), I followed. 

I have been with the same hair stylist for so long that we have run out of things to talk about.  Or so I thought.  Traffic that day had been messed up by the heavy rain - but Man Yung still got me to the hair salon on time.  I was one of the only two customers that morning who didn't miss their hair appointment.

"Did you drive?" asked my hair stylist.

"No, Man Yung did," I replied.  And added: "I would drive, but Man Yung won't let me!  He claims that the way I drive scares his pants off!"

"Oh my god, my husband is exactly the same way!"  She mimed gripping the dash with both hands and mimicked the stretchy long Munchavian face of pure terror.  "Whenever he is in the passenger's seat he is constantly going berserk and screaming, 'You're going too fast!  You're going too fast!"

"Tell me about it!  I never go above 10 over the speed limit, and yet Man Yung keeps on thinking I've floored it.  How about this one: Does your husband also think you are following too close?"

"Yeah, the other thing he screeches while I'm driving is, 'We're going to crash!  We're going to crash!'"

******************************************************************************

I think men like to complain about the way women drive.  Man Yung likes to point out that one friend of ours goes from zero to sixty in two seconds - within school zones.  Another drives at exactly the speed limit in the fast lane (regardless of the honking and hollering of the drivers behind her) because the lane next to the curb 'is too bumpy'.  Yet another languorously waits for all left-traveling traffic to pass when turning left out of a private lane - with the back half of her car blocking all oncoming right-traveling traffic.  Road Rage? Everyone hates the 'Grey Power' lady.  And Tailgating?  Apparently the new international pastime of Womenkind.

Sorry to break the news to all you guys - statistics disprove all your "anecdotal evidence".  Women are actually safer drivers compared to men!  And don't women get lower car insurance premiums? (Yes they do)

But here again, the chorus of frightened men: "I saw your bad driving with my own two eyes!" 

Women are wonderful drivers - until that is, they are bombarded with the negative energy (and distracted by the high-pitched shrieks) of the freaked out men scrunched down next to them in the passenger's seat gnawing fretfully on all their nails.  I tell you, that kind of fear is contagious.  When Man Yung gets that way, it makes me so nervous he's lucky I don't wrap the car around the nearest stop sign. 

So chill out!  Give us women some trust.  Don't buy the stereotype.  After all, when you are driving - whether it's on the road or on the dance floor - WE trust YOU.  When we are dancing, we sometimes even close our eyes and hand ourselves over to your lead, body and soul. 

You have our trust - there is therefore no excuse for being an idiot driver.  This means that leaders should be extra careful to treat followers well on the dance floor.  No driving under the influence.  No going at a hundred above the speed limit.  No sudden braking or cutting into lanes.  No bumping into or elbowing other couples to shove them out of the way.  And for the acrobats among you - no wheelies, no burnouts, no bar-tricks, no hyperspins, no switchbacks... 

 No! No! No! No! No!

 
And everyone please, no tailgating!  You must leave sufficient space in between yourself and the next couple.  If the floor is uncrowded, this means lots and lots of space. The last thing you want to do is be all over the couple in front - when there are only two couples in the whole room.*

* That happened recently at one of the milongas we were at - we danced a whole tanda with this couple right on our tail.  It was midnight, and there were only two couples left, total, on the dance floor.  So annoying!  Then Man Yung had an idea.  He accelerated right around the room and started tailgating the guy who had been tailgating him.  Otherwise how else would that guy ever get it?

As for really crowded conditions - that is not an excuse to jam yourself right up against the people around you either (no matter how strong your urge to hump everyone around you).  At least one step's space in all directions around each couple (make this a half step in hyper-crowded Buenos Aires milongas) - left, right, forwards AND backwards* - is sacred space.   Don't step into it unless in a case of emergency.  Just like cars in a traffic jam, everyone should have a little wiggle room of safety. On the dance floor, it's in order so that couples could turn and do giros on the spot to wait for space to open up in front of them in the line of dance.  In traffic, it's just enough room to turn out and change lanes and perhaps even exit - especially if the traffic is backed up on the 401 from Mississauga until Windsor!

* Another dumb thing we've seen on the dance floor is when clueless leaders, having read some half-baked tango rulebook somewhere, dance right up behind another couple - and then look outraged when the other couple crashes into them when turning.  "You were stepping back!" they glare indignantly.  No silly, that was a turn.  And guess what?  You were tailgating. 

Tango Fear: A Pictorial Journey

I was going to send a sketch on a 3 x 5 inch piece of paper to Kerstein Klein for consideration for her "What are you afraid of" project. 

But then, I discovered I had way too much to be afraid of.  O wonderful, beautiful, magical tango...O spinning, soul-sucking maelstrom of paralyzing fear.  Many a time I have woken up in the middle of the night, terrified and screaming, in the midst of a dream of a milonga with horrible dancers, bad music, and couples dancing exactly like one another...and I couldn't for the life of me find the exit!

So, without further ado, I present to you:

IRENE'S WORST FEARS IN TANGO: THE ILLUSTRATED GUIDE TO IRENE'S PERSONAL TANGO HELL

 

I'm afraid that once the milongueros have all gone to heaven, the only way women can experience tango is by dancing with nutty underage taxi dancers who only want to dance Nuevo.

I'm afraid that my parents will take up tango and then I will have to find other milongas to go to so I won't be embarrassed by their fishnet stockinged, rose biting, sequined fringed, high-kicking low-dipping disco ball ballroom bopping antics.  Yes, my mom has dyed her hair purple.  No, she doesn't look like Dame Edna - it would be a lot funnier and less excruciating if she did.

I'm afraid that Man Yung will accidentally get his limbs bitten off by a swarm of rabid kittens and then, until eternity on weekends, instead of dancing, we will be watching every "Die Hard" movie in existence.  Over and over and over again.

 I'm afraid that all the Tango DJs will stop playing popular and danceable music just because they want to be clever and "different from the rest".  They will make us listen to tanda after tanda of either Canyengues or "Alternative".  This makes me want to kill myself.

I'm afraid that Man Yung will find Fabio so alluring, he will run off with him on a horse into the setting sun or something.

A cameo appearance

Sally Potter, director and star of "The Tango Lesson", posted on her blog about watching three couples dance an exhibition at Nino Bien one night:


At a milonga called ‘Nino Bien’ that we visited on our last night, three couples performed at 2am (normal timing for such things in Buenos Aires, the most night-oriented city I know). The first couple performed with all the rapid fire athletic skill we have come to expect from ‘Nuevo tango’ or in most of the virtuoso tango shows. It was impressive but kept one at a distance, the distance of admiration. Then a tall, thin, older man affectionately known as ‘Flacco’ (the thin one) performed his speciality, an agile milonga, fast rhythmic and old school. It was touching and impressive in a different way.

Finally an elderly couple slowly walked out onto the floor. The stooped man began by bending down and gently kissing his short plump wife on the lips. Then they began a delicate, subtle, un-showy tango together, saturated with tenderness, with pauses and silences full of ‘waiting’ (a compliment by older dancers in the tango world where frantic activity is frowned on as an inability to truly listen to the phrasing in the music.) Tears streamed down my face as I watched their tiny, delicate steps, the gentle flow of their movement, the embodiment of the sad beauty of age and experience, a life shared, bodies that have suffered in nameless ways and now transcend their difficulties with beauty.

When they finished the crowded hall erupted in applause, a collective roar of approval. As the couple left the floor I could see that the man was struggling for breath, a longstanding condition of some kind.

Nights like these induce the love for Buenos Aires that tango lyrics express. The city somehow feels like a long-lost companion, an ageing lover…yes, my darling Buenos Aires, you feel like singing, I may leave you but |I will surely return.

Great piece of evocative, nostalgic writing....I wonder who was the elderly couple who made the cameo appearance (and made Sally cry)?  And when can we expect the movie to come out?

Here they are performing at Glorias Argentinas last weekend:

Westerwick Cardigan - Completed!

We were busy this weekend finishing, washing and blocking our Westerwick Cardigan.... and now, here it is!

Ann Feitelsen's Westerwick Cardigan from her book, "The Art of Fair Isle Knitting"

Here's a close up of the buttons:

And here's a photo of the stranding underneath:

We have plenty of yarn left over - I'm going to take Ann Feitelsen's Westerwick pattern, and make a vest for Man Yung!  Not only is Man Yung not afraid of pink, he actually requested it.  Back to the knitting needles...