Notes on Tango

The Cabeceo
The cabeceo, the traditional (and still recommended) method of invitation used in tango, requires that a man seek out a woman’s eyes from a distance (the mirada). Her wish to dance is indicated by a nod or a smile. That is, of course, if she chooses to recognize and accept the invitation, for the methods of rejection are also clearly defined. The rationale for the cabeceo and its benefits have been presented by others, suffice it to say that it is silent, subtle, and discreet, and can, when all the elements align, be used from across a crowded room.

But the cabeceo is not simply an invitation, a mutual agreement about sharing time and space on the dance floor. It is itself a form of welcome, an acceptance of the stranger. Most importantly, it reflects a willingness to risk something. The encounter may result in failure, rejection, or disappointment. But the rewards of success are immeasurably greater than the risks of failure and, in that respect, the cabeceo is a lot like our first, tentative steps in a love affair.

. . .

The mirada is the most erotic aspect of tango, a moment filled with hope, anticipation, and desire.

Dress
We should not be dismayed by the presence of T-shirts and jeans at contemporary milongas, where dress codes are rarely, if ever, enforced. They point to a relaxation of the old strictures and a modernization of tango, making it acceptable to twenty-first-century attitudes about personal expression, a release from the chains of historical convention. However, they also serve to undercut the magic of the milonga by normalizing it, by making it mundane, and minimizing our expectations.

The Embrace
The embrace, or abrazo, is an integral part of traditional Argentine tango, a core element that physically connects the dancers’ bodies. In practical terms the embrace should remain stable, comfortable, and constant throughout the dance. Whatever the rest of the body does, the embrace shouldn’t change. It should remain relaxed and free of tension and be used to communicate with your partner. We often speak of “connectivity” in tango as a goal we strive for, but what does this mean, exactly? What does this “connectivity” connect? As a constructive element of the dance, the abrazo is used to convey intention of movement through the simple but subtle exchange of forces. But it can do far more than that—it can also convey feeling. It is this subjective, emotive element that is often lost when we use the embrace as no more than a tool or a framework for executing steps.

Ganchos
Tango is already sexually overdetermined in the popular imagination, largely through misconceptions of its historical development and its representations on stage and in film. There is also an aspect of tango, one we see reflected in certain movements—ganchos, leg wraps, off-axis movements, and much of the other tango nuevo paraphernalia—that results in a kind of erotic excess. Clever as they may be, such movements gold-plate the provocative aspects of tango, the more lurid aspects of its reputation that have stuck to it throughout its history.

Romanesque – Gothic – Baroque
Tango, in its purest sense, is Romanesque. Compare the purity and strength, the intimacy of the Romanesque church with the explosion of detail that would follow in its wake. Together with the increase in the size and majesty of cathedrals during the Gothic period, there was a concomitant growth of decorative elements both internally and externally—flying buttresses, elaborately carved columns and capitals, highly decorated vaults, detailed tracery: an explosion of design elements to attract the eye of the parishioner. Similarly, tango nuevo could be considered gothic in its spatial expansiveness and the introduction of novel forms that grow increasingly decorative and elaborate. To follow the architectural analogy, stage tango could be said to have ushered in the baroque, even rococco, period in tango with its heavy reliance on decorative elements, its need to overwhelm the eye and capture our attention,and its concealment of structure and pure form.

La Ronda
The ronda is an organic entity and an integral part of the dance. It is not something extraneous. It is not something to be fought with or ignored. It is a living, breathing thing that should move in synchrony with the music, as should all the couples in the line of dance. Ideally, in a well-organized ronda, there will be no showboating, no parking in place, no rushing the couple ahead of you. Couples should move together around the floor, advancing as the music does. Spacing between the couples should be roughly uniform and consistent. Good dancers do this automatically, seeing the dance as both themselves and larger than themselves. Bad dancers think they are alone in a crowd that is concealing their brilliance.

Why we dance tango
Why are people drawn to tango, why do they stick with it—the classes, the workshops, the practice sessions year after year. Costly private lessons. The initial attraction is easy enough to grasp, the lure of tango, you might call it, its mystery and mythology. But what keeps us coming back? Several reasons have been proposed: the sophistication of the music, the sense of community, the desire for a more active social life, the challenge, the exhilaration, the sense of “connection” we often feel when dancing. All of these are true to a certain extent but they require further elaboration. What I do know is this: No matter how I feel, how tired I am, mentally or physically, how unsure of myself or uncertain, and regardless of the condition of the world outside my door, tango is a means of revitalization. It doesn’t matter how much I dance, how good the DJ, the size of the crowd, the number of familiar faces, the quality of social chit-chat, or the gossip. The externalities all fall away like snow melting in the winter sun. Fundamentally, tango is a way to keep the world at bay. It was never, really, about having “fun,” much less about being entertained. I imagine this explains part of its deep appeal over the hundred plus years of its existence. Its early practitioners must have felt something of this. They must have for it to have endured as long as it has. More than the music, more than the venue, maybe even more than the individual dancers, it was the sense of shared intimacy that allowed people to forget their isolation, to put despair and loneliness behind them, at least temporarily, and return home somewhat less burdened and confused.

The Rules of Engagement

What is it that makes moving in a crowd so difficult? Why does tango become almost a different dance when on a crowded floor? How we move around the perimeter of a floor seems to be a perennial subject in tango, but the fundamentals bear repeating. A brief definition will help focus our attention. As the term is commonly employed today, floorcraft is the ability to smoothly navigate the dance floor in accordance with the conventions of tango. This includes everything from the way we enter the ronda with our partner to our behavior while on the floor.

The body of rules and practices that govern this behavior have been in place for decades. They are part of the general rules of milonga behavior collectively known as códigos. These evolved over time to help manage social interactions on the crowded floors of downtown milongas in Buenos Aires. Most of them appear to have been established during the first half of the twentieth century and, while not always formalized, have remained virtually unchanged since. In El Tango Argentino de Salon, published in 1916, Nicanor Lima listed 35 “rules of deportment” that dancers should observe. While few of Lima’s proscriptions refer to floorcraft specifically, they do reflect a perceived need to codify social behavior among dancers.

Every tango beginner learns the primary rule of social tango, which is counterclockwise rotation around the floor within generally concentric lines of dance. This is the only “ironclad” rule that dancers are required to follow. However, there are a number of recommended practices, not always strictly enforced, that govern behavior while on the floor. Aside from the rule of counterclockwise movement, they include the following:

Dancers should follow the line of dance. This is a corollary of the rule of counterclockwise rotation and is simply understood as the requirement that we follow the couple in front of us at a safe distance while dancing.
In general there are inner and outer lines of dance, running concentrically. Most floors can accommodate two lines of dance and, sometimes, a center area that is often reserved for beginners.
Dancers are advised not to cross the line of dance on a crowded floor. Doing so involves the strong risk of stepping directly in front of another couple and abruptly cutting off their forward movement.
A general rule of thumb is to keep the line of dance moving—tango is a “walking dance” after all. What this means in practice is that couples should avoid spending long periods of time dancing in place when there is free space in front of them. This causes the line of dance to back up behind them and reduces the amount of space available to the other couples on the floor.
Dancers should not crowd other couples and, as a corollary, should occupy no more space than absolutely needed. Tango nuevo and styles of dance that require large amounts of space per couple are especially problematic because they reduce the amount of space available to all the other dancers.
The ability to dance in a small space, one no larger than the outer circumference of the couple. This ability is essential on crowded floors. Not only does it help ensure that space is shared equally, it will help prevent that most egregious of all transgressions in tango—bumping into another couple. (And to help minimize space, it is recommended that dancers keep their elbows in close to the body.)

In addition to behavior while in motion, there are rules, followed strictly in some places, hardly observed in others, that govern how we enter the line of dance, especially once the tanda has begun. The primary rule, and it’s an easy one to follow, is that when entering the ronda a leader should make eye contact with the oncoming leader, who will be directly behind him once he and his partner have entered the line of dance. The entering leader should wait for acknowledgment from that leader before joining the ronda. The practice is not difficult and it generates goodwill and a sense of unity on the floor.

From this, it follows that:

We should never enter the line of dance backwards or step into the line of dance without ensuring that we have been seen by the oncoming leader. Doing so is not only discourteous (it forces the leader behind you to focus his attention on you rather than his partner) but means you run the risk of colliding with other couples in the line of dance.
We should not attempt to overtake the couple in front of us. This is not the Indy 500; there are no prizes for getting to the finish line first. In fact, there is no finish line. In general, couples should be moving around the floor at the same pace. Maintaining uniform flow on the floor is a considerable achievement and shows not only that the dancers are following the music but that they are moving in harmony with one another. This aspect of musical interpretation is one of the most important yet one of the most difficult to achieve on a consistent basis.

None of the above practices are especially complicated and most of them can be carried out by dancers at any level of experience. Why, then, are so few of these sensible behaviors (which are, after all, longstanding conventions) observed in practice? While speculative it is reasonable to assume that the following play at least some part in their neglect:

They are never taught, at least not beyond the primary rule of counterclockwise movement.
They are never learned. The basic principles of floorcraft (or the códigos in general) can be gleaned from written records or videos of observed behavior at traditional milongas in Buenos Aires and elsewhere. But how many dancers seek out such sources?
Ignorance. Inexperienced dancers often try to execute complicated movements they have learned in class even though they may be unsuitable for the music being played or floor conditions.
Egotism. Experienced dancers often execute large, complex movements simply because they can, often with little consideration for the amount of space they occupy on the floor or the inconvenience to other dancers. The faster the speed of execution, the greater the risks. This is sometimes referred to as showboating.

None of the above recommendations should be surprising to anyone who has been dancing for more than a few years. That they are not commonly and consistently followed represents a failure in our ability to develop a culture of tango that extends beyond the individual and perceives the ronda itself as a living organism, a community of dancers with a single purpose.

Some useful links:

https://www.latangoacademy.com/blog/2015/8/18/tango-etiquette-on-the-dance-floor

https://tango-therapist.blogspot.com/p/tango-etiquette_10.html

https://tangocoalition.com/

https://www.siempremilonguero.org/tango-codigos-codes/3/

https://www.tango-dj.at/dancing/codigos.htm