Just came from Dallas milonga. There seems to be a disproportionate number of good male dancers here. I counted 5 or 6 possible teachers on the floor. Whutduh..? I need to move here.
I got to dance with the host. Yay-yay-yay-yay… (singing) . I just said I was visiting from Houston for the weekend, and then he, as a gracious host, asked me to dance. It was a nice tanda. He put me through simple and basic paces, fortunately, because I’m so rusty I know I couldn’t have done more than the simple and basic.
In a milonga, I’d say generally watch out for the suit and/or the long hair- which is usually in a ponytail. That’s the guy you want to stalk.
I wish I got to dance with more than one Dallas tanguero. Although I came with WHC, I do want to dance with other tangueros. Especially the good ones.
I think that’s the shot in the arm I need– I need to travel out of Houston to get my fix now.
Whew, just went to a milonga after a long absence. Yes, I had no technique, yes, I tripped a couple of times, and my feet feel like they’re 2 sizes larger now (which basically means they’re about the size of a basketball player’s), but I am skip-skip-skipping-to-my-lou because I danced a bunch of tandas tonight, starting off with the always-popular and therefore hard-to-catch J, (K’s husband). Followed by one of the teachers, then an assortment of old friends. Yay yay yay! (Mental soundtrack on the way home: “Happy happy joy joy…”)
In the past 3 months, I maybe danced 3, 4 times. And it was just okay, not bad, but not great. It’s safe to say I’m totally rehabilitated– no more tango-drug runs in my veins. I haven’t danced in 2 weeks and I’m not even looking for it. Haven’t youtube’d it. Haven’t popped one of my tango CDs in the car or put it on as muzak at work. Haven’t tango-walked to the car.
I am totally, completely, de-tangoed.
Which makes this blog pointless.
Well, actually, one can argue it never had a point. But only if one were mean and humorless.
So to all who have been reading this blog– thank you very much for your company. I’m hanging up my tango shoes for now. See you all around– somewhere, someday… (cue music. fade out.)
A terpsichorial Catch 22: I’d dance for joy, but find no joy in dancing with those who would dance. I wish it weren’t so, but there it is. Maybe I’m just taking tango too seriously, but again, there it is. Tango opportunities with my partner are few and far in between, and tango with others are tepid (“all very nice, but not very good,” as Barry Manilow says.)
Posted in Uncategorized on February 20, 2009 by Darna
Been youtubing a lot lately– Never a good sign, but it does yield an occasional gem. Like this one:
It’s like the illegitimate lovechild of B-52’s Rock Lobster (music) and Rocky Horror Picture Show (dancing).
Actually, since this pre-dates them both, they’re its illegitimate children.
For the total nerds out there like me, here is a translation of the song:
Let’s get to know each other
Life would become easier
You who have stolen my heart
Do no be so elusive
At least tell me your name
May this wonderful evening
Not pass unavailed
For it will not return
On anyone’s call
Whether you speak or not
Your message is clear
The hard blow fell
Right on my heart
Stolen glances,
Impassioned looks
Let this small matter
Not become a huge tale
BETTER YET, here are the original lyrics of the song (I don’t speak this language, but I totally want to be able to sing this song!!!), with a literal line-by-line translation.
Jaan Pehchaan Ho (If There Would Be References/Contacts/ Knowhows)
Jeena Asaan Ho (Life Would Be Simple)
Dil Ko Churane Walo, Aankh Na Churao (Oh You Stealer Of Heart… Dont Avoid Eye Contact..)
Naam To Batao…. ((At Least) Tell Your Name..)
Haha Jaan Pehchaan Ho…
Haaye, Aaj Ye Shaam Jawa….(Oh, Today This Young Evening..)
Yun Na Chali Jaye….(May Not Go Away Just Like This (Redundantly))
Aaj Ye Shaam Jawa….(Today This Young Evening..)
Yun Na Chali Jaye….(May Not Go Away Just Like This (Redundantly))
Fir Se Na Aayegi Ye, Kisi Ke Bulaye… (It Will Not Come Back, By Anybodys Calling…)
Fir Se Na Aayegi Ye, Kisi Ke Bulaye… (It Will Not Come Back, By Anybodys Calling…)
Fir Se Na Aayegi Ye, Kisi Ke Bulaye… (It Will Not Come Back, By Anybodys Calling…)
Yeaaahh… Hooh Hooh Jaan Pehchaan Ho..
Bolo Ye Na Bolo Tum… (You Say This Or Not…)
Ho Gaye Ishare.. (Hints Have Been Passed..)
Bolo Ye Na Bolo Tum… (You Say This Or Not…)
Ho Gaye Ishare.. (Hints Have Been Passed..)
Seedhi Seedhi Chot Lagi, Dil Pe Hamare… (Straight Straight Harm Struck, To My Heart…)
Seedhi Seedhi Chot Lagi, Dil Pe Hamare… (Straight Straight Harm Struck, To My Heart…)
Seedhi Seedhi Chot Lagi, Dil Pe Hamare… (Straight Straight Harm Struck, To My Heart…)
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaa Huh Huh Huh Huh… Jaan Pehchaan Ho..
Zara Si Ye Bat, Ban Jaye Na Kahani (This Little Talk, May Not Become A Story)
Zara Si Ye Bat, Ban Jaye Na Kahani (This Little Talk, May Not Become A Story)
Zara Si Ye Bat, Ban Jaye Na Kahani (This Little Talk, May Not Become A Story)
Haaaaye Ooh Ooh Ah Ah Ah… Jaan Pehchaan Ho…
Now we can all sing along!!! Everybody now JAAN PEHCHAAN HO…
Posted in Uncategorized on January 25, 2009 by Darna
Opening Night: (Place Batman soundtrack and graphics here: Ooomph!…Ooof!… slam!… Then dance in place for half the song before inching along. Finish tanda, sort of. Give up. Wait for performances which were previously announced to start around midnight. Find out it was done much earlier. Got no dancing. Got no watching.)
Night 2: (Spend night singing karaoke with friends instead. Get text from tanguera friend that it was so crowded they can barely dance. Feel little twang of guilt that you forgot to warn her about that. Continue singing ABBA and Tina Turner songs…)
Tongiht– Night 3, Black& White and a Little Red Theme Milonga: (Hmmm, is it worth spending $25 to become black (and blue), ashy white and maybe a little bloody red? Not tonight, dear, I have a headache.)
But this is a very successful Houston Tango Festival, judging from the turn-out. I saw a Dallas teacher on the dancefloor, and I wanted to stalk him to see if he was giving private lessons this weekend, but he disappeared into the madding crowd. Oh well…
Congratulations to the organizers! Who could have known that just from Year 2 Houston would be busting at the seams? I certainly did not expect it. I can’t imagine the amount of work that must have been put in to keep it all together and running smoothly, — so a big toast to y’all!
Posted in Uncategorized on January 13, 2009 by Darna
In one of my old blog entries about styling, I asked myself the question, how do I sex this up? I have sooo gotten over that, and nowadays, the question pretty much is how can I play with this? Sometimes, the fun styling can look sexy, too, but that is only incidental. I’ve become friends with many of the tangueros I dance with, that it is impossible to “sex up” anything without feeling creepily incestuous, somehow.
I am just trying to clean up my footwork. I want every step to be strong, deliberate, precise. Full strides, whenever possible. Maximum rotation on the giros, full twist ochos. No sloppy feet, as much as possible. I’m not really much into fancy adornos, unless my partner is in a similarly theatrical mood, then I ham it up.
When one hears “tango dancer” or “tanguero,” one usually imagines a dashing figure, elegant, probably with a stylish hat and a well-cut suit, gleaming shoes. Okay, that’s what I imagine, anyway.
However, I notice a whole bunch of slouching among tangueros. Their footwork can be complicated and impressive, but the over-all picture is not quite “there” when the upper body hunches forward like, uhm.. Beetle Bailey.
This is more noticeable with the open-hold dancers– I just mentally turn into a school marm, wanting to slap their upper backs with a ruler and tell them to straighten up, pull those shoulders back, and tuck that gut in! Don’t just let it all hang out, man! Mentally channel Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, or the fictional James Bond, even Tony Manero~ there is a quiet confidence in their whole bearing, there is… style.
Oh, well. Again, I only see this when I am sitting on the sidelines. When I’m dancing, I’m just too grateful to care. Go ahead and slouch, just sacada me one more time, baby.
But only if one were mean and humorless. 
