Have I really felt “connection” in tango?

by: Anonymous

Connection. It’s something we tango dancers constantly seek, but how often have we actually felt genuine connection? To the point that we’ve reached a state of oneness and nirvana? If we have felt that level of connection, how can we recreate that state more often? While I cannot certainly say when I’ve had that level of connection with somebody, I’ll share about two experiences that may have gotten me the closest.

The first experience was with a leader and friend at university. We’ll call him “Al.” We started dancing tango around the same time, volunteered for our university’s tango club, and I respected him as an individual due to his honesty and work ethic. But apart from that, he and I were never particularly close in terms of speaking or spending much time together outside of tango. He and I weren’t each others’ best friends. We didn’t talk much about our work nor did we talk about our relationships. We were regular friends that happened to spend time at the same place two nights a week, seeing each other on the dance floor, sharing a dance here and there – amongst quite a large group of other friends. But after one particular dance a few years ago, I felt cerebrally connected with Al. I knew that no matter how few words we speak, this friend would always hold a special place in my heart.

In tango classes, we often discuss the roles of the lead and the follow. But during a specific dance with Al, the experience was completely different. We danced to “Imbre” by Jordan Critz. The song alone was neither flashy nor dramatic. It evoked a peaceful and serene mood. The song itself would not have been particularly memorable, but our dance synergized with the song perfectly. It felt unclear who was leading or following, but more so that we were both following the music. We were just alternating between creating and leaving space, energy flowing from one person to the other. He didn’t lead any fancy moves, I didn’t perform many embellishments. We just paused and moved into a space as the music called to us, matching the song’s tempo as it morphed between a calm torrent at the bottom of a river to a gentle ripple by a dew drop on the surface. Yes, Al was technically leading me, but the music was truly the one leading us both. We simply moved with the music until the very last note when the music faded and we released our embrace. We exchanged nothing aside from a smile and a “Thank you.” I cried – with tears of bliss – after that dance. That dance came during a time when I faced personal hardship. And that dance was simply therapeutic. I wasn’t being told what to do, how to feel, nor was I wanting to do any more than what the music called for. It was simple satisfaction.

The second experience was with a follower and complete stranger that we’ll call “Diana,” at a milonga in Chicago. Not once had I spoken to Diana prior to my cabeceo, nor did I speak with her much afterwards. But the third dance from our only tanda will likely remain vividly in my memory for quite some time. We danced to “El Violin De Becho” by El Muro Tango and Juan Villarreal. To me, this version is a dark and dramatic song; thus, has plenty of room for flair. Although I was the “leader” during that dance with Diana, I felt as if she was leading me as well. One of my challenges as a leader is consistently having to think ahead about what to lead, where to go, and how to adjust to my partner. Unfortunately, this constant planning and adjusting too often takes away time from me simply appreciating the song. But with Diana, she gave me a sense of peace and the gift of time. There was no pressure to figure out what to do next. With each suspended note of the violin, Diana savored every second between each collection, bringing her ankles together only right as the bow separates from the violin’s strings. All while inviting me to execute sacadas against her free leg as she maintains perfect balance on her standing leg. Her embrace increased in density as she matched her steps to the rhythmic pattern of the arpeggios, tossing in an ocho cortado when she felt like it - and all I had to do was follow her with my torso. Her musicality expressed the fine details of the song, giving me the freedom to appreciate the music. This allowed me to focus on my favorite parts of the song, “taking the lead” during those moments when I felt that a sanguchito, a gancho, a mini-colgada, or whatever matched the song perfectly - all while having the mental energy to navigate the ronda of the dance floor. My dance with Diana felt like a natural conversation. It was as if I learned about her personality and how well she treats her friends and family – all through non-verbal exchange.

Neither Al nor Diana were necessarily champion-level dancers. I’ve been fortunate enough to have had fantastic tandas with such dancers and instructors at premier festivals, but they haven’t elicited such a lasting impact. To me, these dances with Al and Diana were notable for what I think was genuine connection – although in different ways. My dance with Al felt more like we were one. It may have been technically simpler since the music itself did not call for many movements. Yet despite the simplicity, it remains one of my most memorable dances of all time because of how we danced to and with the music. While my dance with Diana had a little more distinction between the roles, it was one when our roles appeared to shift between one another throughout the song. The song called for a bit more complexity, but it felt just as easy at the exact same time. In both cases, it appeared as if we knew what the other person was thinking. Thus, I think I have felt what is genuine connection.

At least – that’s how I like to think of it. But you’ve only heard about one part of the story. You’ll have to ask Al and Diana their perspective about our dances. They did mention how they enjoyed our dance, but is that truly what their hearts wanted to say? Is this something that I should be wondering if I had genuine connection - oneness - with another person? Well, perhaps I may never know if I have truly felt genuine connection. But I’ve had enough of a taste of what it may be like and thus, I will continue learning to listen and respond to my partners to pursue what genuine connection may truly be.