Analysis of a youtube performance.

I have posted this video clip before. Watched it a few more times today and wanted to share some of the things that I picked up in the video for didactic purpose. But I am going to let you watch it first and see if you pick up something useful as well.

There is no style.

Tango style, is another topic that I found pointless on my occasion visit to tango-l.com. Tango salon, milonguero, stage... nuevo, traditional... there is really endless discussion around it on all forums. Everyone involved in the discussion all seems to have a point...

But what is the point?

As in this clip , they said with a sense of slight derision: if you start analyzing it too much, you get lost... You start looking at it as a dance not like a feeling that can be danced.

In my book, there is no style. I do, however, categorize tango into two: good and bad. Good tango: a feeling is danced. Bad tango: there is no feeling.

It can't be that simple, can it?

It is in between the steps.

Silvina told my tanguera friend during our private lesson. My friend has been dancing for less than a year. Even though she has been a modern dancer for many years, she tends to rush the steps in tango.

Quality over quantity. It also rings truth in the dance. Dance slower, stretch the time before you land your foot.

Bad dancers use excessive upper body movement to express the music and feeling. Mediocre ones use steps. Good dancers take time to dance one step. Because between the steps there is infinite moment that one can express so much...

When I dance with good followers,

I dance to their level.

When I dance with the best dancers, I dance like myself.

Nada

A beautiful song interpreted by two inspiring young dancers. Rediscovered via MsHedgehog's post.



Carlos Di Sarli Con Alberto Podesta

Music: José Dames
Lyric: Horacio Sanguinetti

He llegado hasta tu casa...
¡Yo no sé cómo he podido!
Si me han dicho que no estás,
que ya nunca volverás...
¡Si me han dicho que te has ido!
¡Cuánta nieve hay en mi alma!
¡Qué silencio hay en tu puerta!
Al llegar hasta el umbral,
un candado de dolor
me detuvo el corazón.

Nada, nada queda en tu casa natal...
Sólo telarañas que teje el yuyal.
El rosal tampoco existe
y es seguro que se ha muerto al irte tú...
¡Todo es una cruz!
Nada, nada más que tristeza y quietud.
Nadie que me diga si vives aún...
¿Dónde estás, para decirte
que hoy he vuelto arrepentido a buscar tu amor?