By Cafe Girl
Published by courtesy of Cafe Girl Chronicles

I used to think my dance lessons were all about timing, steps, musicality, and technique.   Lately I have come to realize that that there’s more too it than that.  The more I dance, the more I learn about life.  According to my teachers – dance is life.

And nowhere was this more apparent than on my recent trip to New Orleans where I managed to squeeze in a two-hour tango lesson with the very elegant, “man in black” – Alberto Paz.   He was gracious and patient, and I immediately felt at ease with him despite the usual stage fright I feel whenever I dance with someone for the fist time.

“There is no test,” he said. “You’re here to learn.”

Lesson #1: “Dance is like life. You have to understand that it’s not about pass/fail; it’s about getting the most out of it.”

Alberto was surprisingly complimentary at what little technique I had managed to pick up in Buenos Aires.  (Ah, me of little faith.)  He liked working with beginners, he explained, because there were few bad habits to correct.

Doubting myself – as usual – I told him that it was his excellent lead and clear direction that enabled me to dance well

“Catherine,” he said. “It’s a compliment so take it and just say thank you,” he said.

Lesson #2: Dance is like life. You have to give yourself a little credit.”

I decided that the next time someone paid me a compliment, I would own it.

I would say: “It’s mine. I worked for it.  I deserve it.”

As the lesson progressed, the steps started to feel different – they started to feel “right.”  Alberto’s small tweaks were making a big difference to my comfort level.   But just to be certain, I asked, after a particular sequence of moves, “Is this right?”

He tossed the question back at me, “Does it feel right to you?”

“Yes,” I said.  “I can definitely feel a difference.”

“Then, it’s right,” he said, then added: “Never ask a man his opinion. He’ll never tell you the truth. If you ask him if something looks good, he will always say yes.”

As naive as it sounds, it came as such a revelation that I actually asked Alberto if I could write that piece of wisdom down before I forgot it.

He laughed, put his arm around my shoulders, and gave them an affectionate squeeze . “But you already knew that!” he said.

Lesson #3: “Dance is like life, It’s about how you feel and not how someone else makes you feel.

Probably the hardest lesson of all was just learning to slow down.  Tango, more so than any other dance, requires the dancer to be in the moment, wait, and savor each step. However, I sometimes I approach tango as something “to do” rather than something “to dance.”  I want to make sure I do all of the steps whether I enjoy them or not.

As Alberto so eloquently put it as I rushed through my steps of our last tango together, “Slow down, you always have time to make a step, but once it is made you can never take it back.”

Lesson #4: “Dance is like life. Make every step count!

One of my reliable sources in the island of Manhattan called to tell me about a manifesto to the Tango community posted on the ultra censored and anally moderated New York tango group by Rosa Collantes, who has been teaching, performing and working hard to build up a solid reputation since 1992.

Apparently Rosa, who “normally don’t bother reading any kind of gossip” found out “that Junger Pichler is pointing his finger against Pablo Veron. He is saying that Pablo Veron attacked an innocent woman, first lie.” She is no innocent woman.

It looks like Mr. Veron and his entourage were sitting and talking when a lady aggressively began asking him a bunch of ridiculous questions. Miss Rosa and Mr. Veron told her something about tango etiquette and she responded I’M RUSSIAN AND WE DON’T CARE ABOUT NO STINKING ETIQUETTE.

The point is that Miss Rosa saw clearly that Mr. Veron was sitting down while Miss Russia was bending over him with her finger in his face telling him to get up and dance. “She called him from egocentric to arrogant and finally called him a PIG.” Pablo said “and you are a stupid bitch.” “Then she hit him square across the face. He reacted and slapped her back.“

At this point Miss Rosa suffered what is clinically known as cholula’s blindness, a temporary loss of rational thinking, as one moment Mr. Veron is slapping Miss Russia and the next moment Miss Russia “is suddenly on the floor. How she got there, she is the only one who knows.“

Miss Rosa finishes her eloquent manifesto by proclaiming,

“I don’t see why Pablo needs to apologize. She started, she went out of her way to bother him and provoke him.”

That bitch had it coming is what she really meant, but Peruvian ladies are well known by their good manners.

So there you have it all aspiring leaders out there, a lesson is to be learned here. Work hard to become an arrogant and selfish celebrity, surround yourself with obsequious followers and feel free to slap every bitch out there as long as they misbehave and deserve it.

Gabriela Elia, was one of of the judges at the Finals of the salon tango competition recently held in Buenos Aires. She is an educator, and together with Eduardo Perez they are the principal dancers and directors of the Mariano Mores’s company ballet. She is also the organizer of the milonga La Baldosa in association with Eduardo Perez, Horacio and Alba Fiorentino.

In an interview that appeared on the September issue of Punto Tango she comments on a variety of issues concerning the salon tango competition.

How is salon tango evaluated?

In salon tango one looks for the presence of tango in the dance. What does that mean? Musical quality, the embrace, the cadence, walking, the elegance, the style and the technique.

How did you see the competition?

I believe that today there is a unified style in what’s considered salon tango. That’s why I want to recognize the milongueros who danced together in an exhibition the day of the finals, there you could see the diversity. This year only young couples reached the finals. That’s wonderful, but they all danced the same way. It is not their fault, it is the style that is being awarded. Everybody who danced different, something that is also authentic and valuable, did not advanced to the finals. Then there was a final with identical tango styles and is therefore very difficult to evaluate.

Is there anything that needs improving?

The salon tango and the stage tango cannot be evaluated from the same distance. The judges were very far. We should have been 10 feet from the dancers, and not to 60 feet. The salon tango is a reflection of the milonga, and as such it has to be appreciated form a close distance. Imagine if they could set up the Luna Park as a real milonga with the dance floor in the center like a boxing ring with all the people sitting around. It can’t be that complicated and it’d preserve the characteristics and the essence of what’s being this evaluated.

Weren’t the rounds too crowded?

There were too many people in each round, 11 couples dancing three tangos is too much. In my opinion they should limit the number of couples per round to eight.

There were some complains about the music used for the finals

If we agree that the salon tango is a representation of the music that’s played at the milongas, then the music selection for the finals left much to be desired.

space

Every year on this date, June 24th, I’m haunted by the image of the freak airplane crash that took the lives of Carlos Gardel and Alfredo Lepera in 1935.

For most folks born outside South America, it is nearly impossible to understand what it meant for the nation of Argentina, and many other South American countries, to wake up on the morning of June 25, 1935 to the chilling news shaped in bold letters headlines that, except for minor variations in copy, were saying the same unthinkable fact: GARDEL IS DEAD.

Gardel and Lepera had become very successful partners in the tango-for-films department. Under contract with Paramount, Carlos Gardel was becoming a box office attraction in South America because of his personal appeal, his baritone voice, and his successful tours around Western Europe. Yet, the underlying attraction of Gardel, the music and lyrics of his tangos, had presented a public relations problem for the Hollywood suits. There was something about the language and jargon embedded in the lyrics of the tangos Gardel sang that didn’t fly very well outside Buenos Aires.

So they brought Alfredo Lepera, a Brazilian born writer and poet then living in Buenos Aires. His mission was to write new lyrics in a more palatable Castillian language that would be universally understood and appreciated in all of South America and Spanish speaking Europe.

The resulting body of work represents the most popular and celebrated songs that are easily recognized by people all over the world, even when many may not realize that they were all written for films starring Carlos Gardel.

Can you remember hearing any of these titles: Cuesta abajo, Volver, Melodia de arrabal, El dia que me quieras, Por una cabeza…? It was during a promotional tour for his latest film, El dia que quieras, that Gardel and Lepera met their untimely deaths. First Puerto Rico, then Cuba and finally Colombia were visits that attracted large crowds eager to see, touch and listen to Carlos Gardel.

Towards the end of the tour, Gardel and his entourage boarded a plane at Medellin airport for a short flight to Cali, where he would make his final appearance on a radio program before returning to New York, in time to board a ship to Buenos Aires to fulfill a promise he had made to his mother, that is, spending more time with her. The aircraft never got completely airborne as it suddenly veered of course and slammed into another aircraft waiting to enter the runway. Among a twisted pile of melting metal and an infernal blaze, Gardel ended his mortal existence.

Almost instantly he became immortal, and his image, his legacy and his works eternally became the subject of a religious adoration and veneration for a large majority of people spanning many generations.

When his remains arrived in Buenos Aires almost a year later, the city came to a grinding halt. He laid in wake for a day at the Luna Park arena, located where Corrientes Avenue begins to grow up into the heart of the city. Dignitaries, musicians, singers, artists, and plain people all shed tears of sorrow and mourning before his casket began its final journey along Corrientes Avenue to the cemetery of Chacarita where he was laid to rest. The slow pace of the funeral march was accentuated by a shower of flowers and tears being cast from every balcony and every door along the way.

Carlos Gardel began singing at a very young age. Raised in poverty and with limited means of survival, he managed to get singing gigs at weddings, birthdays and other family receptions. His repertoire was mostly made out of Creole compositions, a genre that included folk songs and rural milongas typically accompanied by one or more guitars. Gradually he began to hang out at some seedy cantinas surrounding the old Mercado de Abasto, a sort of central wholesale market. Visitors today may have noticed a subway station under Corrientes Avenue named after Gardel. A super modern mega shopping center stands above on the grounds of the old Mercado de Abasto. It was in one of those cantinas that he faced Uruguayan folk singer Jose Razzano in what was supposed to be a duel for supremacy and ended up becoming a sensational duo that started performing at theaters, clubs, and cabarets around the country and in neighboring Uruguay.

The story goes that sometime in 1917 Gardel was approached in Montevideo by a street poet who had a penchant for writing risky lyrics to existing tango music. Gardel loved what Pascual Contursi had written for a tango named Lita composed by Samuel Castriota. In private gatherings he was amused at Contursi’s clever use of lunfardo expressions to describe the sappy tale of a pimp in love who laid awake at night hoping for the return of his former whore.

It began with, “Percanta que me amuraste, en lo mejor de mi vida…” (Woman who left me at the best moment of my life) and ended with,

“Porque tu luz no ha querido, mi noche triste alumbrar…” (Because your light (talking to a lamp in the room) has not wanted to illuminate my sad night.” And those three last words, MI NOCHE TRISTE, became the title of the first and foremost tango lyrics, setting the stage for a rich chapter in the glorious book of tango history.

Going against the advice of his friends, Gardel decided to take a chance singing “Mi noche triste” at a theater performance. Razzano bailed out, and Carlos Gardel made history by singing his first tango in public, sending the audience into a frenzy and receiving a standing ovation.

What followed was a body of work touching on tales of love, hate, infidelity, and crimes of passion depicting the fictional relationships between pimps and their whores. Record companies couldn’t press enough vinyl to keep up with the demand, and many popular bards followed Contursi’s suit and inundated the market with one of the most prolific productions of lyrics in tango history.

Gradually, Gardel began to incorporate tangos in his recordings, and by the early nineteen twenties the popular demand and the pressure from the record companies made him become a full time tango singer.

Soon he traveled to Spain and was met with great success. Then he ventured into Paris where he became the darling of a decadent aristocracy who catapulted him into international fame. He kept returning to Buenos Aires in what became trips “to enjoy the city as a visitor, rather than as a resident.”

The Radio Broadcasting Company brought him to New York from where he made history by broadcasting a program via telephone lines to Buenos Aires. Paramount saw in Gardel their golden opportunity to enter the Latin American film market. At the time of his death, he had become an idol among fans from all over Latin America.

So, if shouldn’t come as a surprise that this June 24th, as it has been happening since 1935, men and women in Peru, Colombia, Ecuador, Venezuela, Bolivia, Uruguay, Puerto Rico, Nicaragua, El Salvador and Mexico will listen to Gardel with a very special purpose, to continue paying respect to his memory, to continue admiring a singer that sings better every day.

When Gardel died, so did the hopes of any aspiring singer to ever reach universal acceptance. Agustin Magaldi and Ignacio Corsini were great popular singers contemporaries of Gardel but withered under his shadow. Horacio Deval’s register was identical to Gardel’s so he was chastised for that, and in spite of a short success with the Horacio Salgan orchestra, he never achieved popular recognition. People have found Horacio Deval and heard him sing the Gardel repertoire at one of the many Argentine restaurants and tanguerias in the city of Miami, where he had been residing for many years until his recent death.

Uruguayan born Julio Sosa came very close to reach the pinnacle but his life was cut short in a car accident. Roberto ‘El Polaco’ Goyeneche reached cult-like following and respect, but he managed to age and deteriorate in the eyes of the public. They say that it will snow again in Buenos Aires the day a replacement for Gardel is born.

Perhaps what it is most important to understand about Gardel, the man, the myth, the icon, is the identification that the common people of Buenos Aires have with his rise to fame from humble beginnings. With his unmatched fame and success, and his eternal smile, he has been shining a ray of hope over the tribulations of those who face life challenges from a less than ideal social standing. Gardel is the epitome of the socially challenged immigrant who made it out of the tenement and into the royal palaces of Europe all the while retaining the modesty, humility, loyalty and generosity of those who never forget the friends they make on their way up because they know that they’ll still be there when it’s time to come down. The eternal smile reminds us of that.

Carlos Lazzari, bandoneon player, composer and arranger passed away Tuesday night, June 9, 2009 in Buenos Aires.
He was born on December 9, 1925. He began his professional career playing under the guidance of Pedro Maffia.

He later shared with other alumni of the 1940’s generation, the rise to fame of the Miguel Calo orchestra. He alternated as a member of a prestigious bandoneon line up that included the likes of Armando Pontier, Juan Cambareri, Eduardo Rovira, and others.

In 1945, he followed Osmar Maderna when the pianist left Miguel Calo to form his own orchestra, then moved on to play with Francisco Canaro until 1950 when he joined the Juan D’Arienzo orchestra where he spent 25 years as 1st bandoneon, soloist, arranger, and composer. He was instrumental in the transformation of the traditional sound of the early D’Arienzo orchestras writing with more interesting melodic and harmonic ideas that contributed to the longevity of the D’Arienzo brand.

Indeed, in addition to being a dynamic bandoneon player, Lazzari, in his later years, demonstrated his capabilities as an arranger. Of particular note is the way in which he continued to create fresh, rich sounds that gave a contemporary air to the broad-boned style of the D’Arienzo orchestra. It is because of Lazzari’s extensive behind the scenes efforts that the so-called D’Arienzo style never showed any signs of aging.

The "Juan D'Arienzo Orchestra" with Carlos Lazzari, Miguel Varvallo, Julio Esbres, Hector Silva (bandoneon), Raul Latorre, Raul Rodriguez, Jose Votti, Emilio Gonzalez (violin), Osvaldo Cambon (piano), and Hector Gury (contrabass)

Carlos Lazzari eventually took over on the responsibilities of a business manager. As D’Arienzo’s trusted heir he was the one and only person authorized to use the “Juan D’Arienzo Orchestra” brand name after the King of the Rythm’s death in 1976. After D’Arienzo’s death, Lazzari made four trips to Japan. In 1982 he led his orchestra on an immensely successful performance tour around Argentina.

He later went on to direct and arrange for Los Solistas de D’Arienzo with whom he played for many years for dancers at the Nuevo Salon La Argentina.

Until the time of his death he has played nearly every night a La Ventana in San Telmo. But his celebrity status rose to rock star dimensions when he was featured as bandoneonista y arranger in producer’s Gustavo Santaolalla’s traditional tango project Cafe de los Maestros, released as a documentary, a book and a series of recordings of great exponents like Leopoldo Federico, Lagrima Rios, Carlos Lazzari, Aníbal Arias, Alberto Podesta, Horacio Salgán, Ernesto Baffa, Virginia Luque, Mariano Mores and Emilio Balcarce.

On a clear Buenos Aires evening in late February of this year, Lazzari may not have known that he was making one of his last public appearances as a member of the Cafe de los Maestros cast during a free concert sponsored by the Ministry of Culture of the city of Buenos Aires. That fateful Palermo by the Panetarium evening was also a dream come true for British blogger and two year Buenos Aires resident Sallycat. She witnessed a fading page of history unfold before her eyes. We share her feelings as she wrote,

Gabriel ‘Chula’ Clausi’s hands are 97 years old, but they can love the bandoneon on his knee into a solo melody exquisite enough to silence a crowd of thousands. And for two hours it was the hands of Maestros that mesmerised me from the big screen. Clausi’s, Leopoldo Federico’s, Carlos Lazzari’s (who must have been granted a night off from La Ventana), Ernesto Baffa’s. Some of these men needed assistance to walk from the wings to their seat on the stage. Some of their bodies stooped. Some were unsteady on their feet. Their bandoneons were carried to them by youthful stagehands. Each man waited while a black cloth and then their ‘musical box’ was placed across their thighs. Then hands that have touched time for almost a century, pressed and pulled and created beauty.

Kely Posadas

We mourn the loss of another ambassador of the Argentine tango milongas around the world. An unassuming woman, an all around lady, and a loyal partner of Facundo Posadas, Kely had been struggling with lung cancer for the last two years. She finally lost the battle in the early hours of April 27.

She is survived by two sons, Fabian and Eduardo, from a previous marriage. She had ended the partnership with Facundo some time after their last US visit in 2007. She had just celebrated her 69th birthday on December 24, 2008.

Facundo and Kely visited the USA for their first time on July of 1997. For a personal account of the Kely we knew, click HERE.

She wants to live to be 100

By Gaspar Zimerman

Copyright (c) 2009, Clarin. All Rights Reserved

Nelly Omar sings “Desde el alma”

Nelly Omar is happy. It is a day for interviews: it is necessary to promote the Saturday recital at the Luna Park and the series of interviews, far from annoying her, seems to please her. Installed in the office of the recitals producer, she happily receives one journalist after another, proud for showing that time did not rust her mind nor her bones. It is necessary to follow her train of thought as she evokes her friendship with Evita, the 17 years of prohibition she endured after the 1955 military coup, the help offered by Tita Merello; she praises the (President Cristina and ex president Nestor) Kirchners, mentions (radio program) Palmolive on the air.” I do not know how you are not bored” , she lies, and smiles. At 97 years and with her voice intact she is, more than a tango living legend, a sort of a natural phenomenon, a prodigy who is about to step on a stage once again. “It troubles me a little,” she admits. “I am afraid of getting nervous and not remembering the lyrics. But I have faith: God is going to be by my side”.

Is this is a farewell recital?

No, the day I say good bye will be the day I’m dead. I have the support of the people, those who really love me. And not just the common folks: there are intellectuals, professionals who love me.

Where do you draw the strength to continue?

I love life, that’s why I’m alive. I dislike people who waste my time, I like people who are doing something. There are friends to whom I say: “You are boring. Go the hospital, to the square, take a walk: do not talk to me.” If I reached this age, it’s because I have to life to give. I have love which is what’s lacking in people. I want to get to be 100 and celebrate sparing no expense. To celebrate drinking a bottle of whiskey or champagne.

How do you imagine the recital?

Better not think about it, because if I do, I can’t sing. That’s what happened when they paid a tribute Guaminí. I broke down. I sang five songs and I could not continue. I was overcome by tears. I got sick, bah. They had given me, symbolically, the keys to the house where I lived when I was five: entering and seeing the rooms, the plaque they had put in the hall, and not finding relatives and friends once I knew…

Have you felt the loneliness of immortality?

Do you know what is like to get to be my age and not hear anymore from people who had been around? (singer Julio) Martel just left in July, a friend who used to call me almost every day.

How do you overcome the losses?

I believe in God. If He did it, may God have him in His glory. Recently another friend passed away. Tito Alberti had moved to Zárate. He invited me to visit, but I did not have time to go.

You must have a great capacity to make new friends.

Yes, absolutely. I have many friends. More men than women, because the women are very gossipy, and get into tangles and messes. But what I want to have is a partner who thinks like me, to find a partner who would not be embarrassed to be with a person like me. Then my happiness will be complete. But I do not know where are the men. Although first, they should give me a try, because they do not know how I am.

You must be tough.

Don’t believe that. I am a woman who knows how to be a woman. Who did Homero Manzi fall in love with? With Nelly Omar. And how many years he was in love? Since 1937, when I met him until 1951, when he died. But he did not want to follow through on his promise: get a divorce to marry me. And the one who suffered was him, not me. He composed many pieces dedicated to me, starting with Malena. Many people say that this is not true: I give a shit. That a man had fallen in love with me and dedicated tangos to me doesn’t change my way of being. It doesn’t put me in a higher or lower place . I’m the same Nelly.

Do you think about death?

No, not at all. The other day I was telling a friend: the only thing I regret when it’s time to go from this world is not having someone to grab me by the hand and say “you’re leaving, I love you a lot,” something like that. What I would not want to is suffer. I told my doctor: if you determine that I am not curable give me an injection of pentothal and say I had a cardiac arrest. I do not want them to open me, to remove the liver, a kidney, this, that. No, this is a martyrdom.

How would you like to be remembered?

Not as a singer but as a good person. I think I am. It hurts when I can’t help someone. But generally I can or do what is possible. And I do not expect retribution in return: when I give, I do it with my heart. If there is anybody who says I have a debt, let them come and I’ll pay it.

The conversation drifts. Nelly states that recently she was approached to run for a Senate seat but that she rejected the idea “because I do high level politics, not this kind of garbage”. She attacks the dissident Peronism (“It is a shame the scandal they make, they should unite and leave the current administration to finish its mandate”) and she remembers that she met Eva Perón in the Luna Park “during the aftermath of the San Juan’s earthquake. Eva still was an actress… She always helped me: when she found out that I had not worked for over a year she became furious… she said that I was the best Argentine singer”. “I root for Perón and Evita – she adds. What Evita did for the children, by the adolescents, does not have a price”.

She also it remembers her three husbands – Antonio Molina, the folklorist Aníbal Cufré and journalist Héctor Oviedo, whom she met when she was 82 years old and he 57 – and she regrets not having had children. She mentions that she wanted to be an aviatrix and pauses, reflective: “All this can go on a book”. But immediately she discards the idea. She does want to record two albums: one of folklore and another one of tangos, valses and milongas, with an orchestra. She tells that she exercises every mornings and that, when younger, a professor of lyrical song prophesied: “You, like Gardel, have a voice with a natural resonance. You are going to sing until you’re 90”.

Just when we are having the desire to adopt her as our grandmother, she bids us good bye: “I swear that everything I told you is true. I do not have anything to gain nor anything to lose. Bah: I only hope to gain in the Luna Park. Later, God will say what will be of me”.

Translation by Alberto Paz

It was supposed to be just another day at the tango class.

He was practicing the shopping cart lead with a new follower, her hands on his shoulders, her gaze on his hairy chest. He was wearing his unbuttoned to the belly regulation black tango shirt. As he pushed and pulled, he repeated what he had said to so many followers, follow, feel, move beautifully, knees together, don’t wanna look ugly, do you?

But there was something about this follower that just didn’t jive. He tried very hard to focus on his long expertise as a practice post for followers but he couldn’t figure out what was unusual about this particular one. Then just as they passed the Cosmetics and Personal Hygiene section he stopped in disbelief.

The motion around the follower’s mouth was the unmistakable sign of gum chewing. He had never seen a follower chew gum and walk at the same time! They were now staring at each other, their breath intertwined in an ethereal mist of Altoids and Clorets. His brain was at warp speed searching for speech. You are…, his mouth felt like the bottom of a bird cage, you are…, he was feeling real stupid now, you are a WOMAN, he finally blurted out. Yes, I am, she said. My name is Sue, how do you do?

For the next half hour Sue and Narciso conversed. By the end of the class he had buttoned up his shirt and he was thinking, what an experience! Thank you very much maestro, Sue said. Was it really true? Had she just called him maestro? Holy boleos! And before he could grasp for more air she asked, any words of wisdom before I leave, maestro? He gave her a gentle tango kiss on the cheek and whispered in her ear, stay away from the dulce de leche, it goes straight to your butt.

The purpose of dance notation is to document a choreography for preservation. As such, dance notation may include stage blocking, specific movements for the dancers, and references to the music used and its composer. Pertinent information concerning where and when the piece was performed, and who the dancers were, is also found in dance notations. It could be said that dance notation is like a script with notes for dance historians and choreographers. Another purpose of dance notation is the documentation and analysis of dance in dance ethnology. In Rasche Notation, the book which is the subject of this review, the notation is not used to plan a new choreography but to document an existing dance.

The primary use of dance notation is the preservation of classic dance documentation, and the analysis and reconstruction of any kind of body movement. It is used to document choreography and technical exercises in dance forms. Many different forms of dance notation have been created but the two main systems used in Western culture are Labanotation (also known as Kinetography Laban) and Benesh Movement Notation. Labanotation grew from Rudolf von Laban (1879-1958)’s interest in movement, which stemmed from his early travels. He studied architecture and philosophy in Paris and worked as an illustrator before becoming involved in the performing arts. His architectural interests led to his analysis of the spatial structure of movement itself. After publishing a shorthand system for his theories (Choreographie, 1926), he developed a more detailed and more widely applicable notation—one that spelled out the elements that produce movement patterns—and published it in the book Schrifttanz (“Written Dance”) in 1928.

The Laban system is an “alphabet” system in which symbols represent movement components through which each pattern is “spelled out.” In standard labanotation a vertical three-line staff represents the performer. The center line divides the staff into right and left columns, which represent the main body parts. The staff, read from bottom to top, is written from the performer’s point of view. Each direction symbol is based on a rectangle and indicates four movement factors. Its shape shows the direction of the movement. Its shading indicates level. Its length represents duration of the movement (the shorter, the quicker; the longer, the more extended in time). And its placement on the staff indicates the part of the body that is in action. Families of signs represent the minor body parts, and additional signs such as pins and hooks denote details modifying the main action.

When it comes to the Argentine tango, the improvisational dance par excellence, memorizing steps has always been the domain of those who approach the tango as the eleventh dance of the ballroom circuit. Even though teaching steps by way of memorization is an inauthentic way to help a student learn to dance the Argentine tango, it is a good source of repeat business. The effect of memorizing the way two feet move, without any context with relation to body alignments and sense of direction, lasts a day or two before all is forgotten. As early as the mid 1990’s many people carried notebooks around the room trying to write down the steps shown by the traveling teachers. Filming videos was not an option. The scribbled notes tried to capture as much as possible of the subjective elements of the dance regarding music, affectations, mannerisms, feelings, as well as the actual steps.

The modern teaching of Argentine tango has evolved into a logical, three dimensional structure based on the concept of the woman dancing around the man in the man’s embrace, and the man dancing around the room while embracing the woman. As the couple progresses on the dance floor the relative position of their bodies has one leg moving inside the embrace and the other one outside. As a result of that, there are only six fundamental movements: a) two openings, one with each leg opening away from the other leg to any point in front, to the side or behind without crossing the line where the standing foot holds an axis, b) two forwards, one with the inside leg stepping on the outside of the partner and one with the outside leg used as steering wheel, and c) two backwards, one straight back step with the outside leg and one diagonal back step with the inside leg.

The man learns to carry the woman, marking one of the six leg motions available to her, and to move, using one of the six leg motions available to him to travel in an orderly fashion around the floor. The woman learns to hold her axis on one leg, allowing the other leg to follow her body which is traveling in the embrace, and to acquire a new axis when the movement is completed . There are no leading steps, or following steps. By nature of the embrace the dancers move together in unison on one beat of the music.

Unfortunately the good teaching of tango is underrated. It has to compete with the urge for instant gratification: to run before crawling, and also with the eye candy temptations that sexy and voluptuous bodies provoke when dancing a choreography for the pleasure of an audience. The “show me the steps” binge leads to the “I forgot/I don’t remember the steps” morning after hangover, and the “toxic” cycle seems to go around like the common cold, with no cure in sight.

Enter German dancer and teacher Thomas Rasche and his new tango notation system ‘Rasche Notation’, which has just been published in a new book. Rasche Notation is a sophisticated dance notation for Argentine tango that makes it easy for step collectors to write dance steps. Steps are written for two dancers. Although it is not specifically expressed, it is assumed that both dancers are fluent in the high level notation language which uses familiar text symbols to describe the destinations of each step, so that they can then be written by hand or computer. This remarkable book closely resembles the tutorials that computer programmers use to learn new high level languages, like Visual Basics or Pascal.

The first chapter covers the basics of Rasche notation: the philosophy of RaNote (how much better it would be if there was a simple way of writing all the steps people learn), what RaNote looks like (four rows with a dividing line, two rows above for music and comments, and two rows below for detailed man and woman steps notation), and understanding RaNote (movement is described as destinations with symbols that represent abbreviated words, using assumptions and notating only unusual elements).

In the second chapter the four lines within RaNote are defined in detail.

The Compass line is used to notate and describe the music with three elements, a) form, the way a piece of music is constructed in various sections labeled A, B, C…, b) phrase, the equivalent of a spoken sentence, identifies one row of notation, and c) audible count, the timing of each step within a phrase.

The Description line contains notes and symbols that relate to the whole dance. For example, the name of steps and musical terms may be included to describe a feeling (vigourous/soft/strong/smooth/accented/sad/joking). A fundamental misconception of the tango (that the shape of the embrace is the origin of various styles) is nevertheless described at the start in terms of open, closed, or milonguero, with additional details about the nature of the lean, and the position of the head. A step sequence or dance phrase also goes into the description line. A summary of symbols used on the description line provides a blueprint for the faithful choreographic imitation of the way somebody else dances, or the perception by the step collector of what s/he thinks s/he is watching and understanding.

The Man and Woman lines carry the step symbols, describing the destination of each step taken by the dancers. Essential symbols are M(an), W(oman), L(eft), R(ight), 1… 12 (directions on a clock face as if drawn on the ground around the dancers), # (close feet), % (step between partner’s feet), C+ (clockwise pivot), C- (Counterclockwise pivot). Complex symbols condense information that contains many movements, such as the steps of a turn. The geometric component phases of each step, collect/balance/projection (including placement of foot)/partial and full weight transfer, are symbols written in lower case.

The third chapter contains a detailed and comprehensive list of diagrams and examples that include, close directions; close steps; giro steps; phases of a step; step symbols; walking geometries; step sequences, and a full transcription of a tango. Here, the complexity with which a simple closing of the feet with or without weight change and the dreaded eight-count-basic with back step are annotated, is akin to explaining how to find the location of the toilet using the logarithm of pi and the coordinates of the polar star. Yet, the considerable time and effort that has gone into quantifying a large collection of steps is remarkable and for many will be a good excuse to add mystery and complexity to the relatively simple concept of tango dancing within a clear structure.

Consider the familiar tango resolution which usually but not always follows a simple salida. The man advances straight forward with his left leg while marking a back diagonal to his left for the right leg of the woman. This clears the path for the man to take a second forward step to the woman’s left provoking a turn to the left, which converts his forward step into an opening to his right, and the woman’s step into an opening in the same direction. They both close with weight change, left to right for the man and right to left for the woman. Finally, the man takes a short back diagonal with his right bringing the woman forward with her left into the original home position from which a new salida or base can be initiated. Let’s see that simple count of four sequence in RaNote,

The information on the Description line is repeated on the Man and Woman lines, so it can be removed. Instead a description of the step can take its place. The Compas and Description can be reduced to C and D.

A further reduction into a smaller space leaves a neat and easy-to-read note,

This clever, ingenious and elaborate system for tango steps annotation follows the perceived illusion that the dancers move shopping cart style (man pushing or pulling the woman while keeping her straight in front of him). For example, the second step of the resolution is described as a side step towards 3 o’clock without change in front (R3). Notice that the resolution ends at the closing of the feet rather than with a fourth step to bring the dancers to the home position. This approach makes no distinction between the unique characteristics of each tango step. Forward steps with the right or the left leg are rendered the same. Back steps with the right or left legs are the same. In this system there are no inside or outside legs, straight or diagonal steps. In other words, everything is geometry, with men leading and women following agreed choreography. Thus the annotations. The use of the obsolete eight-count-basic as an accepted sequence of steps betrays a lack of understanding of the fundamental structure of the tango, and it caters to a subset of dancers who collect steps but don’t want to pay for them at a ballroom studio.

The dichotomy of this book is that while it presents a system with a degree of complexity that requires a great deal of thinking and reasoning, this complexity is simultaneously what thwarts most people’s efforts to learn the tango as a dance of improvisation. If people can’t grasp the notion of a simple structure of six distinctive and unique steps used for the purpose of circulation, with the woman dancing around the man and thus executing the code that calls for the trailing leg to alternate crossing inside and outside the embrace, how can they be expected to read, write and memorize a mnemonic language of symbols and descriptions devoid of a logical structure? By the same token, if a person can become fluent in a sophisticated notation language to describe steps they see others do, why can’t they accept and learn the simple foundation upon which the structure of the tango is based?

The Rasche Notation’s attempt to encode many steps collected in group lessons from teacher to teacher, fails to show an accurate understanding of the structure of Argentine tango. It is then almost useless even for historians and choreographers, and is certainly of little value to the social dancer, or to someone wanting to teach the dance.

This being said, Thomas Rasche must be commended for his attempt, and the tremendous amount of work it must have taken to produce this book.

Rasche Notation for Argentine Tango
by Thomas Rasche
Paperback, 101 pages, ©2009, ISBN: 978-0-9561489-0-2
Suite 105, 179 Whiteladies Road
Clifton, Bristol BS8 2AG United Kingdom

www.RascheNotation.com