The Way You Look Tonight

The third Tuesday of each month brings the Silver Starlight Orchestra to an Italian restaurant in Hopatcong.  Last night was a special Tuesday,  since the evening's playlist was largely Frank Sinatra tunes.   A few years ago, I took private dance lessons to practice foxtrot, cha-cha and waltz. In all honesty, I just wanted to dance to Frank Sinatra's tune, "The Way You Look Tonight."  I love it- the big band sound, his voice, the words, the way you can foxtrot across the entire dance floor.    

The orchestra draws a mixed crowd of families, couples who eat dinner and sit through every song, and people who want to eat, drink and dance.  I have very happily joined the latter group, made up of an accomplished group of dancers with an enviable reputation at the restaurant.  The night is fun and lively, but also inspirational.  Always there are couples who are well into their 80's who spend most of the night on the dance floor.  

Last night I watched an elderly couple make their way to the dance floor from the bar area. They were dressed for a night out:  she in a black and white top, skirt, gold earrings; he in slacks, a sweater and blazer.  He moved slowly, with a slight limp.  Once on the dance floor, though, the limp seemed to vanish.  Song after song, they danced- jitterbug, swing, waltz- with enviable rhythm, connection, and ease.  While they were not fast, she could spin and he had cool moves of his own! Toward the end of the night when Ed, one of the fellows at our "dance table",  extended his compliments, he learned that the couple had danced together for 40 years, but never taken any formal lessons.  When I shared that information with Dave, he replied that it was because they lived through the "golden age of dance."  While I didn't leave through the "golden age big band era",  I want to be like that couple, dancing into my own golden age, Frank Sinatra playing as I foxtrot across the dance floor. 

Shopping in New York?

I needed to get out of the burbs for a few hours, so I planned a Saturday morning of shopping and tango in NYC. Shopping meant: West Elm, City Bakery, Paragon Sports, and the Union Square Greenmarket. Tango: meant the morning practica at Dance Manhattan.

Once I got downtown, I stopped at Pain Quotidien, two doors from the 18th Avenue subway. (Last year when I took a tango class on Saturday mornings, I always went to this same spot, either for an apple muffin to go, or a bowl of steel-cut oats and fruit at the communal table. The woman behind the counter still remembered me. ) Next-- West Elm. As I walked, I noticed a line across the street, women mainly, waiting for a David Yurman sale, "30-60% off original prices". At West Elm, I selected two placemats and paid $3.47. Out of curiosity, I went to the David Yurman sale. There were at least 40 people in the sales area, compared to four or five at West Elm. The least expensive items were "specially priced merchandise", $250-$500. To purchase anything else would have required a small loan.

In the next block, I wandered into Books of Wonder, a fabulous children's bookstore. I happen to be re-reading Charlotte's Web, and noticed a copy in their "old and rare" collection. The book contained an inlaid bookplate signed by the illustrator, Garth Williams. The price: $2500. Another purchase I did not make. I crossed the street to City Bakery to buy their "Baker's Muffins" which are worth the trip into Manhattan even if you do nothing else. They're huge yeast muffins with cinnamon, raisins and apples @$4 each. Yum!

I walked another block to Paragon Sports to use a 20% off coupon I got at the Banff Film Festival. I was not successful there, and that was fine given that the sales tax in NYC would have eaten a significant part of the coupon. I looped through the greenmarket, bought Cameo apples, and admired all the cherry blossom branches (too inconvenient on the bus). On to tango.

At tango, the "shopping" is of a different nature. It's rarely comfortable to be a woman walking into a practica or milonga when you don't know any of the male dancers. Often, and especially in New York, guys want to have a sense of your ability before they ask you to dance. Even though I used to take classes at Dance Manhattan, it's been nearly a year since I went to the practice sessions. I recognized a few faces, all occupied. The best option was to take a seat and wait to be invited on to the dance floor. (Grrrr......no women's lib in tango!)

I wish I could say that my experience at the practica was pleasant and inspiring. But, it was not. The first dancer (whom I had met one other time) began to rub my back and neck while we danced, murmuring "why did we ever get out of bed this morning?" I played along, and we danced two sets together. He was clearly popular, with women circling him throughout the morning. The next guy walked away from me after one song saying that he "had to find someone else to practice with." (It is extremely rude to leave a partner before the tanda or set of songs is over.) Did I already say that egos can get very big on the tango floor? Who expects perfect connection after thirty seconds of dancing? The following partner was ok, though stepped on my toe. I accepted another dance with the back rubber, and kept up my "vamp" tango. At least he was a good dancer. The session wasn't exactly turning out how I had hoped, so during a break I packed up, blew a kiss, and returned home for a cup of tea and a baker's muffin that was worth the bus fare.

http://www.thecitybakery.com/

Tango

On Saturday I tried a new milonga. I had attempted to reach this venue once before, after Hurricane Irene. Roads were closed, and the detours led to more closed roads. After an hour and four phone conversations trying to get directions, I headed back home and stopped in at another friend's birthday party. This time, I wisely planned to meet other dancers at their home, and then ride in the back seat of their car.

With a GPS, the driver found the destination easily. Without a GPS, it would be nearly impossible. The building is in Sugar Loaf, NY, down a dirt road and not visible from the main street. It's a beautiful community/cultural center with artwork on the walls, and one side entirely windows. I was warmly welcomed by the host, and hugged by a dancer I haven't seen in two years. That night there were guest instructors, a well-known female instructor from NJ, Carolina Juarena, and a world champion from Columbia, Carlos Paredes. Now, to the heart of this post.

During the lesson, Carlos emphasized that the leader (usually male) needs to look at the woman (the follower), and make a connection with her. The leader's goal is to be sure the follower is comfortable during the dance. And if there is a mistake, it is not anyone's fault. Try again, keep dancing, have fun. And yet... many leaders do not seem to follow this practice and it seems a shame. I had one dance that night that turned out to be unnecessarily stressful as I attempted to follow leads into tricky steps with a man I did not know while dancing in close embrace. Many tango dancers would blame the leader in this situation, with the argument that if he leads correctly, I will be able to follow. True enough. But why even create a situation where the dance is ruined?

A possible answer may be the marked contrast between the way professionals dance vs. the "average" non-professional dancers (most of us!). In Argentina, my instructor regularly reminded his students that professional stunts belonged on the stage, not on a social dance floor. Maybe it's too difficult to resist the fantasy of looking as good as the pro's.

http://www.carolinadancer.com/
 

Tango School

According to friends, the Escuela Argentina de Tango is the place to take tango classes. So, after barely 24 hours in Buenos Aires, I went with mi amiga Susanna to attend two classes with her favorite instructor, Jorge Firpo. Mind you, this is after an early morning run, walking for a couple of hours, and a full lunch at La Posada de 1820. The "executive menu" offers a mid-day special, generally between the hours of 13h y 16h. (1:00-4:00 pm). This particular restaurant serves three courses for 34 pesos, or under $10. Soup, main dish, dessert. Mineral water or wine are extra, and nearly the same price.   laposadade1820.com.ar/

The first class on salon style tango started at 5:30pm and was 90 minutes long. The second class which started promptly at 7pm was Vals- Giros y Contragiros. A "giro" is the term used for a molinete. The classes were well attended, with a balance of men and women. (An aside- one of the guys in the class who knew Susan from last summer, began to talk to me in Spanish. When I said, "No habla espanol", he replied in English that he thought I was Argentine!) By 8:30 after both classes ended, my feet and legs were about to go on strike. There was no way that I would have energy for a milonga! Instead, we went for wine, a snack, and conversation.

On YouTube, there are many videos of Jorge Firpo. Here's one of Jorge dancing a vals at the school. I think the man standing against the mirror in the black shirt is Roberto, someone who was in my class, too!

 

Throughout my stay in BsAs, I took one or two classes on most days. Along with the classes with Jorge Firpo, I especially liked the women's technique classes with Aurora Lubiz. Being in the class of women and working together in pairs or groups to practice balance and adornments was probably more beneficial than the mixed classes. Hopefully, I can find a similar class in NJ or NY, since it's a bit far to get to BsAs every Saturday at 11:30am in order to take one of Aurora's technique classes!
tangopulse.net/interviews/aurora_lubiz.php

Comme il Fait

To find the most famous store for tango shoes in all of Buenos Aires, Comme il Faut, you must know the exact number of the street address, Arenales 1239. Along Arenales, there is no sign. The number is on the side of the building and a walkway leads to a group of fancy boutiques. CF is listed in the directory posted on the left side of the walkway. Pass three shops, walk upstairs, buzz and enter the store.

Once in the store, you will notice something unusual for a shoe store, no shoes on display. Sit down and a sales clerk will ask a few questions. What is your shoe size? What color would you like? What heel height? I asked for size 38, black or purple, medium heel. Then, she brought out boxes and boxes of shoes to try.

In less than an hour, I selected a pair: violet and bronze, medium spike heel. Muy bonita. The price was less than I paid two years ago for a pair in New York City. Each shoe was slipped into a pouch of its own. Included was another bag to carry the shoes to a milonga, so everyone would know where you bought your shoes. All placed into a black and white CF shopping bag.