December 29, 1932 –
[The following text posted to Tango-L on January 19, 2007, and February 18, 2007, was my personal experience meeting Jose Maria Velazquez.]
I observed the dancing for more than an hour because I won’t dance with a man until I’ve seen him dance. Salon El Pial in Flores was a new milonga for me, although I have danced at the club many times with partners. It takes time to see who dances well. I wasn’t surprised to see three men I know from the downtown milongas there with partners, but I wouldn’t be dancing with any of them. Couples dance only with each other. That’s the way it is. When I thought I had found someone who seemed to dance well, I watched him walk off the floor to see where he was seated and if he sat with his partner. This process of elimination took time until I found the one man with whom I wanted to dance.
I watched him for several tandas. I wanted to see that he observed the line of dance, took care of his partner, and danced with the music. His salida and embrace confirmed for me that he was someone with whom I wanted to dance. The next step was letting him know that I wanted to dance with him. I saw that he was adept with the cabeceo, hardly moving his head at all. It was like radar zeroing in on a target.
I’ve learned patience. This was my test. I kept looking in his direction. He was seated near the entrance at the first table, so the organizer got him for the D’Arienzo valses. Just another opportunity to watch him on the floor. When they returned to the table, I got up to go to the ladies’ room, passing by his table. I returned and gave a clear signal that I was looking at him. When the Di Sarli tanda began, I knew that this was the moment of truth. He nodded, and I accepted. Another woman in front of me got up at the same time, so I waited to be sure that he was coming over to dance with me.
I immediately realized that we are the same height, although my 3-1/2 inch heels made me taller. He placed a handkerchief in his left hand to receive my right hand. He gave me a firm embrace. We danced as if we had danced together for years. We didn’t speak after the first dance. After the second, he said, “now I’m going to begin to dance.” At first, I didn’t understand what he was talking about. At the end of the tanda I knew what he meant. Our first two dances were an introduction–to see how I danced and responded to his lead. He danced simply and made me feel comfortable. All he said to me after the tanda was “sin palabras“–which meant “I’m speechless.”
I returned to my table to report to Juanita that I had found a gem. I didn’t want to dance with anyone else. I had found an excellent partner among the dozens of men in the club.
A few tandas later was Miguel Calo. Of course I wanted to dance with him again. A turn of my head in his direction and he tilted his head, as if to say, let’s go. I accepted.
He wanted to dance the cumbia tanda with me, but I wanted to save my energy for valses with him. When the Tanturi vals tanda began, it was as if we had made a previous arrangement to dance. His embrace made it easy for me to feel his every movement and to enjoy in the music.
Three terrific tandas. I didn’t need anymore. It was only 9:30, but I wanted to visit a friend at her home. He saw me leaving and got up from his table to speak to me. He said he was hoping to see me there on Sunday. I thanked him for the tandas and left.
Part Two of the story follows:
For the past four weeks, my place to dance Thursday and Sunday evenings has been a neighborhood club. Susana has organized a milonga for the past fourteen years. It has become my refuge from the hot summer temperatures where one enjoys great hospitality, good music, a spacious floor, and air-conditioning for a four- or five-peso entrada.
This is where I met Jose Maria for the first time. I’ve surprised myself by dancing exclusively with him for the past month, but it has been a pleasure. That hasn’t deterred other men from trying to invite me for a tanda. I’ve had to decline invitations from others. Jose Maria has done the same. We have this unspoken agreement to dance with each other for every tanda of tango and vals. One tanda with another man, and he’s gone. Argentine men are that way, and I’ve been here long enough to know it. Why would I want to lose the best dancer in the place? He has invited me for dinner after the milonga and walks me to the bus stop. We each travel a half-hour in opposite directions. Naturally, he’s telling everyone that we are novios. The milonga is a fantasy world, so he can fantasize all he wants. I have established the ground rules. We don’t sit at the same table in the milonga because we are not a couple, nor do we go dancing anywhere else together, least of all on Saturday night.
I can only imagine what the local women are saying about me, dancing every tanda, week after week, with Jose Maria. I’ve stolen a good dancer from the small pool of available men. And one who dances everything well.
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I went to Salon El Pial on December 14, 2008, for the 16th anniversary of Susana’s milonga, but Jose Maria wasn’t there. I hope he hasn’t stopped dancing as is the case with many milongueros.
Tags: cabeceo, Salon El Pial, tango
