Invitation to the dance

Dancers come to Buenos Aires to go to the milongas. Those who come for the first or second time have to learn about the codes and customs. The following is a description of the various ways a woman is invited to dance. 

A personal invitation.    

This is probably the easiest and most acceptable form for foreigners since it achieves the desired result—they dance. What they don’t know is that men who approach women at their table use this method because foreigners are likely to accept. What the women don’t know is that these men don’t know how to dance. They will continue to invite the same women to dance for hours. If the women never decline, they won’t have the opportunity to dance with others. My advice is to ignore men who come to your table, and they won’t bother you again. No comment or excuse is required. They understand. If you are really desperate to dance and will settle for anyone no matter how badly he dances, then go ahead and accept. You’ll probably regret it later. I told you so. 

The Cabeceo (nod). 

This is the most common way of inviting a woman to dance. A man makes eye contact with a woman on the opposite side of the room while seated at his table. In a split second, he nods. If she wants to dance with him, she indicates her acceptance by responding in the same manner. If not, she merely looks in another direction. No one in the room knows that she has declined his invitation to dance. The cabeceo insures there is a mutual agreement between two people to dance a tanda. The man knows before he walks across the floor to her table that she has agreed to dance with him. Sometimes, reconfirmation is necessary with another nod. I have waited patiently to be invited by a milonguero, so I had to let him know I wanted to dance with him by resting my gaze on him continuously for hours. It was definitely worth the wait.

Read my lips.

This is another option used in the milongas. There are men who don’t use any movement of the head. Once eye contact is made, an almost imperceptible movement of the lips is made—bailas?—that is, do you want to dance? You read his lips and then respond with a facial expression or movement of the head. His invitation is worth accepting.  This form of invitation is used by milongueros.

The command.

The milongueros are the best dancers—la crème de la crème– and carefully select partners. They wait for their favorite orchestra or a tango that inspires them. They may not dance a complete tanda. It’s all about being patient and knowing which orchestra is their favorite, and then being ready to make eye contact at just the right moment. It happens in a split second and so subtly that no one else sees the invitation. Their invitation is done by the movement of the lips—bailamos or vamos. There is no movement of the head. It could be a wink of an eye. When they’re ready to dance, they give the command. Any woman is grateful she was chosen. The milongueros want to see a woman dance before they invite her because it’s important to them to dance well or not at all.

Revised as previously posted May 4, 2005 on Tango-L

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Learning the dance called tango

There are so many people teaching tango in Buenos Aires. Many are names you might recognize because they probably have come to your city to teach. Many are well known outside of Buenos Aires. People come to Buenos Aires to study with “name” teachers. They pay lots of money for private lessons. There is an abundance of tango teachers in Buenos Aires, probably more now than ever before. Some teach and dance only with one partner. They do not go to the milongas because they are busy teaching classes. Some who teach cannot dance the music. Others may be good performers, but teach only choreography rather than improvisation.

And then there are the milongueros. Their names aren’t familiar in the tango world. You have never seen them in your city giving workshops. They never perform or teach. They are dancers in the milongas. They have been dancing since they were teenagers. They have a simple style and always dance the music.

Most who study tango are learning to dance socially rather than to perform on stage. Most of what is taught in classes or workshops isn’t relevant for dancing in a milonga, but few know the difference. They dance stage choreography in the milongas because that’s all they have learned.

One has a unique opportunity when visiting Buenos Aires to experience the real tango. One can see a different tango in the milongas close to the center of the city. The milongueros dance simply to the music they know and love. They have danced tango that way for decades. It is a different experience for anyone who finds it.

I learned lots of figures when I studied with Argentine teachers. Years later I found a different tango in the milongas of Buenos Aires, that it is about feeling and not the steps. Gradually, my dancing changed as I came to know and feel the music while dancing with milongueros. The milongueros are gems of the milongas and a vanishing species.

Revised as previously posted to Tango-L, October 16, 2000.

 

 

Dos milongueros mas

Alfredo B. Barcones (June 21, 1930-October 15, 2007)

I hadn’t seen Alfredo for about a year in the milongas. On May 1^st, I decided I would call him at home to find why he wasn’t in the milongas. It was Labor Day, and I expected to find him at home. The last time we danced in Centro Region Leonesa he said that he had pain in the left leg and the doctor told him to quit smoking. As I was leaving that night, I saw Alfredo smoking a cigarette. I went over to ask why he was smoking against doctor’s orders. That was the last time I saw Alfredo. I left a message for him with my telephone number hoping he would call me. Later that night I found a message on my answering machine from his son to call him. I was prepared for bad news. His son informed me that Alfredo had died six months ago. Dario wanted to meet to talk about his father with me. We spent three hours talking about Alfredo. He gave me the photo above of Alfredo at the age of 36, the age of his son Dario is today. Dario said, “my father was born to dance. He loved tango. He went to dance from the age of 14.” I had the distinct pleasure of dancing with Alfredo in Lo de Celia, Salon Canning, and Region Leonesa. He continued working for a furniture manufacturer until the very end of his life. Alfredo was married to the milongas. I shot this photo of him in when he grew a ponytail.  He is giving Amanda Lucero a birthday kiss in Afiche (2002).

Alfredo decided on the spur of the moment to compete in the IV Campeonato Metropolitano de Baile de Tango. He was dancing in the semifinals in Nuevo Salon La Argentina on his 76^th birthday, June 21, 2006, but didn’t make the cut to the finals. He told me that day that he had danced in another competition thirty years ago. He didn’t have anything to prove.

 

Luis Santillan (June 21, 1931–)

I hadn’t seen Luis for more than a year, and I had been wondering about him as well. I was relieved when he and his partner Soledad attended the opening of Oscar Hector’s milonga last month on May 3^rd in Salon Sur in Pompeya. I used to see them on a regular basis in Lo de Celia where I took this photo of Luis. He said he has had some health problems, but the important thing is that he’s back to the milongas.  I called Soledad on her cell phone to send my greetings to Luis.  I was pleasantly surprised when he answered.  He was so happy that I remembered his birthday and called. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Roberto Rafael Carreras

(June 18, 1931–)

He is known simply as Pocho. He and Nely met as teenagers at a neighborhood social club dancing tango. Together they made an instructional video series only a few years ago—Tango de Puro Cepa—for Solo Tango television.

Pocho danced regularly at the matinee milonga Pavadita in the former Confiteria Montecarlo at Corrientes 1218 where I first saw his smooth dancing. It wasn’t until years later that I had my first opportunity to dance milonga with Pocho in Salon El Pial. It was the night they were filming him with Nely for the video series. He was a regular at Club Bailable Juvenil at Corrientes 4534, where all the milongueros went on Saturday night until the place closed in November 2000.

Pocho has the distinction of being the first milonguero to teach classes in Chicago, my hometown. He was invited to teach master classes with Nely at the Chicago Mini Tango Festival in April 2008. You can see them on YouTube.

Beto, Pocho & Mario

 

 

 

 

 

Club Almagro

I have vivid memories of the first time I entered the club at Medrano 522 near Sarmiento. It was in March 1996 during my first visit to Buenos Aires. Our tour group had no introduction whatsoever to the milonga codes, so I walked across the empty floor to greet a stage performer who had arrived. That’s a newbie blunder for you. No one told us that the dance floor is sacred. You don’t cross it during the cortina; that’s why there is an aisle between rows of tables. I also remember being singled out by a local dancer by the name of Nicholas for a tanda. He wanted me to put my right cheek next to his rather than turning my head to the right. I had a lot to learn about how things were done in the milongas. Buenos Aires was the best place to learn them by total immersion.

Almagro had many organizers over its 40-year history, and during the 1990s until its closing on December 19, 2000, Juan Fabbri was in charge. It had a parquet floor with three rows of tables around the floor. The long-time regulars had their reserved tables in the front row. The club was actually a sports club with swimming pool and basketball court that rented out the main floor. On one of our tour group visits the milonga was relocated to the basketball court. There were classes held before the milonga and exhibitions during the night, not the way things were in the 1970s and 80s. Milongueros go to a milonga to dance, not to see performances. Famous personalities like Madonna, Julio Inglesias, and the Rolling Stones showed up at Almagro. I met Winton Marsalis and a few members of his band when they were in town for a concert.

I was a foreign visitor going alone to Almagro, so I was seated in the back row of tables against the wall where I couldn’t see the dancing. Jose was the man at the door in charge of seating. He always wore a bowtie and never smiled. It was during my fourth trip in 1998 when Jose Santoro seated me in the front row. I thought I had died and gone to tango heaven. I didn’t ask to be seated up front; I was promoted there. It’s a different world from the front row. I went regularly on Tuesdays and Sundays. I didn’t attend closing night at Almagro. My friend Diana has a piece of the parquet as a memento.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Osvaldo Vicente Centeno

 June 15, 1937–

He is often referred to as ”El Oso” (the nickname given to him by Laura Grinbank), but he’s as warm and gentle as a pussycat. He doesn’t talk in the milongas because he goes there to dance. He knows with whom he wants to dance each tanda, and a commanding tilt of his head gets immediate results.

During the daytime, Osvaldo drives a taxi. He is a porteno who lives in Avellaneda, the province of Buenos Aires. I regard Osvaldo as my friend. We have danced together since 2000 in Salon Canning, Club Carribean, Lo de Celia, Centro Region Leonesa, El Beso, and Club Gricel. He loves all the orchestras of the milongas, but especially Anibal Troilo and Juan D’Arienzo. He has told me he becomes completely absorbed in the music when he dances. I know the feeling. He began learning tango in Club Sol at Saraza 951 where he attended practicas. He started dancing in 1956 at Centro Asturiano on Solis and Venezuela. His favorite was Club Almagro, where he danced during its 40-year reign as the place to dance in Buenos Aires.  View his dancing on YouTube. Osvaldo and his partner were one of 38 couples in the semifinal rounds who went to the III Tango Dance World Championship for salon tango finals in August 2005 at La Rural in Buenos Aires.  His daughter Cintia and grandson Nicholas were there to see it all.

 

Galeria del Tango Argentino

Located at Av. Boedo 722 near Independencia, the milonga Galeria del Tango Argentino opened September 25, 1991. Carlos Gavito and Eduardo Arquimbau were the organizers. Everyone who attended the opening signed this piece of leather. Gavito once told me that all the best dancers were invited, and everyone wanted to be there. Galeria space was being rented for classes until about six years ago, but milongas are no longer held there.

There were three rooms on the first floor. The largest room was used for milongas. The entrance walls had these colorful posters, and artwork hung throughout the space. There were two smaller rooms that were used for classes. I attended canyengue classes with Marta Anton and Luis Grondona, folklore classes with Cynthia Fattori, women’s technique workshops with Graciela Gonzalez, and one forgettable class with Gustavo Naveira.

Our March 1996 tour group attended their first milonga in Galeria del Tango Argentino with Eduardo Arquimbau as our host.