February 8, 1929 –
You’ll find Domingo and his wife Miriam on Fridays in Lo de Celia Tango Club. I met him in 2002 when Alito Candamil and Miguel Angel Balbi organized their milonga Buenos Aires Tango (Milonguero) in Mundo Latino on Esmeralda for three months. He was 0ne of many milongueros I filmed at that milonga.
Photo by Guillermo Thorp
July 23, 1937 – January 2010
I received the news via email that Tito died in January. We met in Confiteria Ideal during one of my early visits to Buenos Aires. Tito had some knowledge of English, so we chatted between dances. He presented me with a collection of his writings with a tango theme. Tito was passionate about tango and was always present in the milongas. Someone with a friendly smile for everyone isn’t easily forgotten.
I would like to share one page from his writings he gave me in November 1998. He always wrote from the heart . . . the same way he danced.
El pasador de discos
Hoy quiero decirte cosas a vos pasador de discos de tango ó como se dice ahora: Diskjokey
Que de tu lugar de privilegio, sos el encargardo de hacernos gozar y motivarnos para salir a bailar, vos que manejás las alegrias, las angustias, las tristezas, con solo manipular botones, vos que todo lo junás de esa altura en donde siempre estas ubicado.
Cuantos personajes habrás conocido desde tu lugar de trabajo? A cuantos habrás visito dar sus primeros pasos, cuantos idilios por tus ojos habrán pasado y cuantos veces te habrás quedado con ganas de salir a milonguear ese tango que estabas pasando.
Las nostalgias de la noche que vos no podes gozar porque estás laburando, te encontrarán de madrugada y con los ojos cansados. Que saben los demás, esos, los que están bailando, de tus tristezas del alma, que nadie quiere escuchar.
Ellos son pedirán a Troilo, a Tanturi, a Caló, a Pugliese ó a Di Sarli y a veces aplaudirán cuando el último Tango hayas pasado. Por todo eso quise escribirte a vos pasador de discos de Tango y decirte: Gracias, gracias porque yo tambien a tu compás he bailado.
The disc smuggler
Today I want to say things to you smuggler of tango records or as you are called now: Disk Jockey
In your privileged place, you are in charge of giving us pleasure and motivate us to go to dance, you manage the joys, the anguishes, the sadness, by only manipulating buttons, you do all of this from the height where you are always located.
How many personalities have you known from your place of work? How many have you seen take their first steps, how many love affairs have passed before your eyes and how many time have you desired to stay to dance the tango that you were playing?
The nostalgia of the night that you couldn’t enjoy because you were working, they find you in the morning and with your tired eyes. You know the others, those who are dancing, from the sadness of their soul, that nobody wants to listen to.
They ask for Troilo, Tanturi, Calo, Pugliese or Di Sarli and at times applaud you when the last tango is being played. For all this I wanted to write to you smuggler of tango disks and say: thank you, thank you because I have danced to your rhythms.
Alito moved recently from Hospital Israelita to a cozy geriatico in Almagro. Only the universe could have found a room for him with an old friend. Oscar Casas has managed Alito’s life for months and gets him out to the milongas several times a week.
Alito shares a room on the fourth floor with Dante who worked as a waiter for Alito many years ago in one of his milongas. They have known one another for 50 years. I found Alito in the TV room next to the elevator when I arrived for a visit. He took me to his room to chat. There is a southern exposure with a nice breeze in the afternoon. His room has a closet and even a small refrigerator. The rooms on the fourth floor are men’s quarters, so Alito always has company. The dining hall is on the top floor with a nice view. The staff is friendly and take care of 120 residents. Juan Esquivel came by for a visit while I was there. Alito seems content in his new home.
Juan, Alito and Dante
Women learning the man’s role in tango is an ongoing debate. What began as a street dance practiced between men in Buenos Aires has women taking the lead in ballrooms around the world.
Traditionally, tango is a social dance between a man and a woman. The dance venues in Buenos Aires hold to this tradition with only two exceptions in recent years. Rarely will one see two women dancing together in a traditional salon in Buenos Aires. Recently, I saw this occur in Lo de Celia Tango Club. It was Wednesday evening when a smaller number of dancers are in attendance. The couple seated next to me were watching someone on the dance floor. I quickly realized they noticed two 
women dancing a milonga. I had never seen this in the nine years I have danced in Celia’s place. It appeared that a newcomer had decided she didn’t have anymore patience to wait for an invitation to dance, so she went to the table of a woman and invited her to dance milonga. The woman didn’t dance the man’s role very well. There they were on the floor while everyone watched in amazement. The hostess passed by my table, so I commented that I had never seen this before. When their second dance ended, the security guard was speaking to the newcomer (an Argentine) that Lo de Celia Tango Club is a traditional place where women dance tango with men. Both women returned to their tables. I was a little surprised that men were inviting this newcomer to dance after she demonstrated her disrespect for tradition.
Later in the ladies’ room, I met the woman invited to dance by the newcomer. I asked her how this came about. She explained that she simply didn’t know what to say or do when the woman approached her table. She knew the woman from another milonga. She wasn’t comfortable dancing with her because she only dances tango with men. She felt relief that the security guard intervened. The situation was over quickly and quietly. It was certainly noticed by everyone in the room.
Today more women are teaching tango and therefore learning the man’s role. The late Ricardo Vidort said that when a woman learns to dance tango as a man, she no longer dances as a woman.
Tango isn’t a dance between leaders and followers–it is a dance between a man and a woman, a blending of the masculine and feminine energies.
Before my serious interest in tango, I attended ballroom dance classes in Chicago where the studio owners held parties on a Friday or Saturday night for their students. We danced to a variety of recorded music. Everyone got dressed up. The parties had exhibitions by the teachers and their students. When I began teaching, I organized class outings and parties for my dance students as well. The focus was on practicing and socializing. Everyone got to know everyone else by name.
Those who have had social dance experience probably believe that a milonga is a dance party just like all the others they have attended with one difference–most of the music is tango. This is not true.
A venue was a milonga because there were milongueros present. That alone set it apart. It could have been a club de barrio like Premier in Caballito or a confiteria like Domino downtown. As long as there were milongueros, the term milonga was appropriately used. Today there are only a handful of places where the milongueros go. One outdoor venue which has no seating, no tandas, no use for the codes, and no milongueros is included on the list of milongas in Buenos Aires.
A milonga is where milongueros go to listen and dance to tango. A milonguero doesn’t talk while dancing. There is respect for tango. A milonguero doesn’t discuss his personal life in a milonga. Conversation between dances is brief and private. The main agenda is the music and dance; exhibitions, announcements, raffles, birthday celebrations, etc. are no part of a real milonga.
They call them milongas, but a real milonga doesn’t exist in Buenos Aires–they have become tango dance parties for socializing. The milongas as they were known by the milongueros are gone forever.
January 16, 1936 –
If you want to see the milongueros dancing in Buenos Aires, you go to Luis Trapasso’s milonga on Friday in Centro Region Leonesa. They show up around 9:00. Last month I saw Mario and told him I wanted to video his dancing. He replied, “but I don’t dance very well.” I said, “Mario, I danced with you years ago in Club Gricel, and I enjoyed it.” I managed to capture of almost a minute of him in the center of the crowded floor. I wrote about Mario last year in this post.
We know that in a mathematical equation, both sides are equal–one plus one equals two. The tango equation is different–two become one, especially when they are Jorge and Irma who have been dancing together for 18 years.
Irma Barrientos & Ernesto Jorge DeGouvea
My introduction to milonga con traspié was with Jorge in the milonga Glamour in 1997. The word smooth doesn’t begin to describe how it feels dancing with this milonguero who continues to enjoy dancing and teaching at 75. He practically jumps out of his chair when he hears the orquesta of Juan D’Arienzo. This is a sample of their dancing. Irma accompanies Jorge rather than trying to do her own thing. Their tango equation is perfect.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the death of Carlos Di Sarli, who was affectionately named El Señor del Tango (Lord of Tango). He lives on through the recordings with his orquesta.
I patiently wait for tandas of his music in the milongas. His music touches my soul when I dance.
January 9, 1936 – January 7, 2010
The following are excerpts from a letter distributed in the milongas by Tete on his birthday four years ago:
I believe that many are disguising tango as something that it isn’t. Tango is music, and it doesn’t begin with steps. We shouldn’t commit the mistake of not teaching how to walk different musical rhythms to recognize each orchestra. Many who are teaching have to learn how to dance tango first, then give everything in order not to cheat their students or damage their reputation as teachers.
Tango isn’t a business, although many see it as such. Tango is part of our lives, part of our grandparents, fathers, mothers, brothers, and friends. It is our life. We shouldn’t fool ourselves, and we have to return to regain it. We are losing tango when we don’t respect it.
And to the tango community in Europe and the rest of the world, I give my counsel: I would like you to open your eyes to learn to dance; and to the organizers of workshops and the teachers, with all my affection, I want you to know that when you organize something, try to bring the best dancers and teachers to teach as tango ought to be taught. Without the music, the cadence, posture, and balance, the steps are nothing and for that we need authentic masters and teachers.
________
There are numerous videos of Tete dancing with his teaching partners Rosanna Remon and Silvia Ceriani in recent years, however, my favorite is this video with Maria Villalobos in Marisa Galindo’s production of 1992.
Tete was born in the barrio of Pompeya and lived the last years of his life in a boarding house at Pringles 84 in the barrio of Almagro. He was hospitalized in December for a few days and was planning his annual trip to Italy in April. This is his last performance filmed in Salon Canning on December 28, 2009. And here is his nephew dancing in Cachirulo.
It’s not the first time it has happened to me in a milonga nor will it be the last. I’m referring to being invited for a tanda and then see the man intercepted by a woman in the front row. I was absolutely positive that the man was walking across the floor to dance the Troilo tanda with me. He is one of my regular partners in Lo de Celia Tango Club and knows my tanda preferences. Before he had arrived at the corner where I enter the floor, another woman made a quick interception. Being a gentleman, he danced the tanda with her. I stayed in my chair while doing an instant mental replay. I concluded there was no possible way she could have seen him from her table across the crowded floor after the first dance. She just wanted to dance, and a suitable candidate approached her side of the field. She was ready to get in the game.
The woman had what I’ll call front row advantage. She was four tables to the left of where I was seated in the second row. Those in the front row are usually the first ones dancing because they have an unobstructed view to the other side.
What the woman didn’t bother to observe was that the man hadn’t made eye contact with her as he made his way along the edge of the floor past the dancers. This is valuable information for the one who is the intended invitee for the tanda. When in doubt, it is wise to stay in your chair until the man approaches and maintains eye contact with you. Then you are positive he wants to dance with you.
When I danced the next tanda with the man, I asked him what had happened. I knew that he wanted to dance with me. He explained how she blocked him, and the interception was completed. He continued as if she was his intended partner for the tanda.
Women in the front row have some advantage over those in the second row of tables. Those of us in the second row get to dance, but we have to use our ingenuity. Men often walk the aisle behind the second row to avoid being intercepted by those in the front row.
Men want to be certain that a woman has indicated her acceptance to them before they leave the table and walk across the floor. Dancing is a mutual agreement.
