Salon Canning has reopened for milongas

Before you get a glimpse of the completely new interior of Salon Canning as it is now, I want to post some old photos of the way it used to be.  This photo shows the mural that covered the back wall of the salon, a tribute to those who danced in Salon Canning for decades.  Speakers were hung over the dance floor  providing the best sound for the dancers.  Every table in the salon had two chairs positioned towards the dance floor.  The salon was a theater, the floor was the stage, and the audience always watched the show.  Tango was the star attraction in every way.

The tables were set up with enough space between them with access to the floor.  When a milonguera accepted the cabeceo of a milonguero, she remained seated until he arrived at the edge of the dance floor where she was seated and went through the aisle to meet him.  The photo below shows how the tables were arranged for the Sunday milonga by Dario Rodriguez for more than 35 years.  It worked.

I attended the reopening of Salon Canning on April 7, at the invitation of Pablo Etcheverry, the organizer of Milonga Sans Souci. I don’t know anything about the history of the cabaret Sans Souci that later became one of the famous confiterias bailables in the center of the city along Avenida Corrientes.  Pablo’s research at the national library didn’t uncover any information about its history.  The only potential source is from the memories of the remaining milongueros viejos.

The photo below was my first glimpse of the new Salon Canning where everything has changed.  The black and white tile floor replaced carpeting.  Speakers were removed from the ceiling.  The photo mural has been replaced by artistic videos  projected on the wall.  I doubt many dancers paid any attention to them since focusing on the dancing is a priority.

Dancers focus their attention on watching the dancing while seated.  It’s the only way to find the best partner for the next tanda.

The man in charge of providing the music at Milonga Sans Souci is Joni “El Chiqui” Canete who is set up in the far corner of the salon.  Since all the speakers were removed from the ceiling, El Chiqui provided his sound equipment.  Every tanda was excellent, so he kept the dance floor full.

The white spot on the wall comes from a spotlight near the bar that changes color and size.  Most of the time it was red.

I enjoyed the music for two hours while standing and moving around the salon to take photos and talk with the dancers.  I had interesting conversations and saw a few familiar faces.

I went to check out the ladies’ room at the end of the hallway and took this selfie for fun.

These two signs in the ladies’ room caught my attention so I decided to include them in my photos.  They are long overdue in milonga restrooms.

Corner of Riobamba and Av. Corrientes

 

If you come to dance in Buenos Aires, then you have entered this building on the first floor.  The milonga was known as Regin before it became known as El Beso.  I came across an old photo taken in August 2014.  How different it is today.  The linen store closed on the ground floor and the space was empty for at least a year.  Recently the space was transformed into a dance studio rented the business owners of El Beso.   The only way one knows there is a milonga upstairs on the first floor is finding the entrance door.

This was the entrance door of Regin in 1999.  The door had to be widened to comply with building codes for public venues.

Ricardo Ponce

July 10, 1931 – March 12, 2024

 

 

The Buenos Aires daily newspaper CLARIN (08/08/99) quoted El Chino:  “Today, everybody dances the same.  I dance for fifty years, and I consider myself a milonguero–neither professional, dancer or anything else.  A milonguero knows all the orchestras, all the singers, he knows everything.”

How will the codigos survive?

I have written several posts on how I believe the codigos will disappear with the milongueros, because they are the ones who practiced them for decades in the confiterias bailables, clubes de barrio, and cabarets.  Using the codigos showed others the way to enter a salon, how to invite a lady to dance, and how to navigate the floor and much more.

The codigos should be presented and practiced in every tango class.  Attending ballroom dance classes and parties in Chicago, I learned about the rules of the dance floor during practice sessions.  Every sport has its rules which one has to know to play the game.  It’s the same with tango, but the codigos are unlike those for social dancing in other countries.

Teachers should begin with proper dance etiquette during the first classes to provide a framework for social dancing.  The more dancers know about the codigos of the milongueros, the more they will enjoy a milonga experience.

Continuing to practice the codigos at every tango event one attends anywhere in the world is the perfect way of honoring the milongueros who respected the codigos for decades and passed them on by their example.  The survival of the codigos is essential to the survival of tango in the world.  The codigos were the foundation of social behavior that young men learned from seasoned dancers in the 1940s .  Those who did not respect the codigos were asked to leave.

Taking tango classes with stage performers is like learning how to drive a car without any knowledge of the rules of the road.  They don’t have any rules to follow when they are the only ones on stage.  The milonga and the stage are two different worlds.

“A milonguero can dance on stage, but stage performers cannot dance in milongas.” — Ricardo Vidort

Lovely encounters

Ricardo (Tito) Franquelo has been dancing in the milongas for decades.  Well, today I danced with him for the first time, not at a milonga, but in my dream this morning.  I don’t usually remember my dreams once I open my eyes, but I thought it was very interesting that I dreamed about Tito.  He is quite tall for me to dance comfortably with him, but my dream dancing with him was very pleasant.  The photo was taken in Club Juvenil on a Saturday night when I filmed Tito from the balcony.  He turns 80 in July.

While walking along Av. Independencia today, I recognized Marta Laura Rodriguez and approached her to say hello.  This photo was taken during her birthday celebration many years ago in Lo de Celia where she was a regular.  Marta lives only five blocks from me.  I was delighted to see her again after several years.  She talked while walking two blocks to her apartment.  We hugged and kissed at the door.  She told me to ring her doorbell anytime when I want to stop by for a visit.  She has lots of family in the neighborhood.

I continued walking along Av. Independencia, with a big smile after talking with this milonguera who is 86.  Both of us have retired from the milongas.  This was another lovely encounter that keeps me connected to tango.

Milonguero codes

I believe the codes of the Cosa Nostra (which means “our thing”) and the codes of the milongueros in Buenos Aires have many things in common.

The Cosa Nostra began during the middle of the 19th century, although confirmation of its existence in Italy wasn’t acknowledged until 1992. It is a brotherhood with rituals, rules of behavior, and a code of honor–don’t talk, listen, and observe. The codes are unwritten and passed on by word of mouth by its members. They are codes for life. The Cosa Nostra exists in only two countries in the world–Sicily and the USA since many Italians immigrated to New York before World War I.

From 1870-1914 (when tango’s predecessor the milonga was being created by musicians), there was a large migration of Italians to Buenos Aires. Many of the poets and composers of tango were of Italian descent-Miguel Calo, Carlos Di Sarli, Homero Manzi, Enrique Discepelo, Julio DeCaro, etc. The codes of the milongueros pattern those of the Cosa Nostra in many ways–behavior, silence, respect and nothing being written. With so many Italians living in Buenos Aires at the turn of the century, it’s no surprise that the codes of the milongueros were established and passed on the same way as the Cosa Nostra traditions.

Buenos Aires and tango are so closely linked by history and culture, that if you separate them, you end up with something else. Milongas in the United States hardly resemble those in Buenos Aires. Milongas are called as such because of the presence of milongueros. Americans organize parties for socializing and tango dancing, but they aren’t true milongas without the codes. In Buenos Aires, one’s personal life is left at the door when a man enters the milonga. Tango is more than a dance for the milongueros–it is their life, what they have lived.

The codes are disappearing from the milongas in Buenos Aires for a singular reason–the milongueros are disappearing.

Milongueros are stoics

The ancient philosophy of the Greeks and Romans came to my attention at the very end of 2023.  Since then I have consumed a daily diet of stoicism videos.  I never heard the word before, and didn’t know its meaning, yet I am a stoic.

Today I watched the live video entitled, 7 Things Every Man Should Hide From His Woman.   It describes the milongueros viejos and their conduct in life and the milongas exactly.   This is recommended handbook for study by those who want emulate the milongueros they have known and admired.

Celebrating 25 years in Buenos Aires

These family photos tell the story about being born into a family of amateur musicians and dancers for a very good reason — so I could fulfill my destiny of dancing, teaching, and writing about tango in Buenos Aires.  My family prepared me for the experience in every way possible.  My father, who was our family photographer, gave me my first camera when I was eight and taught me how to frame a shot.

I was only eleven years old and already dancing tangos with my sister Linda in our Chicago home.  Our parents were taking tango classes at the local park.  When they returned from classes, we asked them to show us the new steps they had learned.  Our parents met at the Aragon Ballroom of Chicago in 1939, and then married in 1941.

My parents won the tango dance contest during our family vacation of August 1960 in Miami Beach, Florida.  Here they are dancing a solo with the orchestra.

My mother always practiced on the baby grand piano in our living room.  She enjoyed playing piano all of her life. I started piano lessons by age 8 and played duets with my sister at our first piano recital in 1957.

Our home was always filled with the sound of music.  My grandmother Rose, my aunt Marion, and my mother enjoyed singing together especially at Christmas.  They all studied piano.  My grandfather Henry played the violin.  After eight years of piano lessons, I joined the high school band and took private lessons on oboe for six years before joining the North Side Symphony of Chicago.

After five visits in three years to Buenos Aires, I knew that I wanted to make the move to live there permanently.  Here I am, still in Buenos Aires, after 25 years.  High school Spanish classes were another important part.  I had dance and musical training that I wanted to share.  I wanted to learn more about tango, the orchestras, and the milongas.  It all came together for one reason.  It was my destiny.

 

Daniel Anibal Rezk

 

Daniel took over the business of managing Club Gricel and transformed it into a beautiful space where he and Juan Lencina hosted three nights weekly.

The last time I saw him was when I took this photo of Mario  celebrating his birthday at Lucy’s milonga in Nuevo Gricel.

I never saw Daniel without a smile.  His presence will be missed.  His daughter Laila is prepared to take over for him.

 

Carlos Biccai

February 15, 1939 — January 2024

This photo was taken in Obelisco Tango, which was located around the corner from Lo de Celia Tango Club.  I had the pleasure of dancing with this superb milonguero.