La Tanguera (Part 1)
There is a certain kind of magic that occurs when two individuals come together to dance. It is an enthralling thing to behold; two bodies fusing to move with such synchronicity as to appear to have one mind.
You can only see this marvel in partner dancing, otherwise known as ballroom dancing, but not, in my opinion, in the choreographed competition version. It is only in commonplace social dancing, where nothing is rehearsed, that the real magic occurs.
The term “ballroom dancing” really does nothing to convey the beauty of the dance form – it sounds staid and dull and out-dated – and I hate using it. The Italians have a better word for it, liscio (pronounced lish-oh) meaning smooth; it is a much more fitting term because, when it is done well, ballroom dancing is, indeed, very smooth.
The first time I witnessed a couple partner dancing in a social context was at a wedding when I was seventeen years old. An ordinary husband and wife whom I had known all my life appeared suddenly to be on an entirely different plane to me or anyone else in that reception hall. While other people swayed from side-to-side, mechanically shifting their weight from one foot to the other like failing robots, this couple glided across the floor with such beautiful simplicity that I was mesmerised. They appeared to be in their own little world, communicating in a secret language - how astonishing it was to discover this hidden talent of theirs when they appeared so normal!
Seeing them move in unison, it was clear to me that their relationship must be predicated on a unique cerebral connection that I could only aspire to have with somebody, one day. How beautiful to be so in-synch with another human being!
Having never forgotten the vision of the dancing couple, I took ballroom dancing lessons a few years later in the vain hope of getting a taste of that synergy. But, after a year, I realised that simply learning the steps was not the same as having that special connection – especially when you’re dancing with another clumsy learner – so I gave it up.
The thing about partner dancing is that it takes more than just knowing where to put your feet. I know this now because I have finally, three decades later, discovered the secret. But it is one thing to know the secret and another to put it into practice, especially for someone like me.
In order to produce the kind of enchantment that had so captivated me all those years ago, when dancing with a partner it is necessary for one of you to take control and for the other to succumb. When mind and will are set aside, the only way to communicate is through touch, and the only way to listen is with your body.
For someone as independently minded as me, this was, at first, the hardest thing to learn because it is not something that can be taught, but rather, something you have to choose to give yourself up to.
…to be continued…