969  Article - - IN MEMORIAM - ALBERTO TOLEDANO (Part 1)

Date: Fri, 24 Jan 2003 12:15:23 -0800
From: tanguero <tanguero@EARTHLINK.NET>
Subject: Article - - IN MEMORIAM - ALBERTO TOLEDANO (Part 1)

This is an edited version of the article which is posted in its entirety at

www.tanguero.com.

The full tribute on the site also includes Alberto Toledano's artwork, as well as letters from his students.





IN MEMORIAM - ALBERTO TOLEDANO

PART I (of II)



Alberto and his brother, David, grew up in North Africa, in a third world country. Their parents encouraged their two sons to leave =
Tangier, Morocco. Spanish was their first language; French, their second; English, their third. They also knew German and some Arabic. =
And Hebrew. Both brothers wanted to become Americans but, as fate would have it, only Alberto did; David became French.

In the Toledano family, education and learning were of paramount importance. Alberto, a scholar, was educated to be a professor of =
mathematics, physics, applied mechanics. He was also an artist, a writer, a poet. But destiny took him down an altogether different road =
than his academic education.

Alberto was born to teach. He lived, in no small part, to teach. It was inevitable, although it wasn't to be in academia for well over a =
decade. Instead, he became-and devoted himself to being-an Argentine Tango teacher (and later, performer and choreographer). He sought true =
students, those with a hunger to learn. Alberto was keenly interested in the process of learning, his objective was as much for his students =
to learn about learning, to have the joy of learning, as it was to have results. He had no desire to coddle, to baby-sit. For him, teaching =
was never about money, about quantity, about recognition. If fifty students began and five remained, that was just fine. A tough =
taskmaster, he expected much, but always more of himself. For those slothful or conniving to cut corners, he had no patience. His =
intolerance took its toll, a price he was altogether willing to pay-the lack of compensation financially. Only the dedicated, the determined, =
the disciplined went the distance. But the ground they covered was not only breakthrough, it was life-changing. For in his articulation, =
demonstration, critique, challenges, intensity, truthfulness and selflessness, were metaphors for a way of life. Praise was rarely =
spoken, no gratuitous compliments were ever given. His teaching was so very pure: the greatest high for him was in the accomplishment of his =
students and his dance company members which resonated in the moment, radiated in the room, and had nothing at all to do with fame, money or =
posterity.

Intellectually, he was open. Totally open. But his heart.well, that was another matter. It was not cold, it was never cruel. But he =
closely guarded his feelings.that is, until suddenly, in the face of almost all that he knew becoming unknown and the rational fully =
challenged, his heart opened fully. The mathematician, the scientist, the scholar, the intellectual who had always been open to all =
possibilities that could be proven, came to consider that anything was possible and could be inexplicable. Too, he ceased to judge people by =
their short-comings, instead seeing only aspects of goodness, embracing everyone offering positive energies.

He complained to no one, he told no one until just days before I stepped off a plane from China on November 11, 2002. For six weeks, I later =
came to understand, he had been in a life-or-death negotiation with this country's infamous, unforgiving, unconscionable HMO health system. And =
in unbearable pain, pain no human being should have to endure. The so-called practitioners of medicine had failed him at every turn-through =
missing diagnoses and misdiagnosis, stalling and tormenting him needlessly, not communicating and mis-communicating. For six crucial, =
critical, priceless weeks he was lost in the mire of a medical system bankrupt of feeling, devoid of sense-a system that itself is =
toxic.apathetic, shameless, unethical, immoral, uncontrite, lethal.

But Alberto, who determined to live, focused on wellness. I canceled out my life for the remainder of November, December, January. Work, =
travels, meetings, events, social commitments, deadlines-were all put on hold because I thought I would be supporting my very best friend of =
seventeen years in a successful bid to beat what I eventually learned were insurmountable odds.

On that first reunion with Alberto, Wednesday, November 13, I could see he had malnutrition. Always slight, tall but with lean body mass, =
strong but not muscular, now his skin barely covered his bones. For days, more perhaps, he had ingested only minute quantities of chicken =
soup and tea. In the twenty-four hours since the deeply caring Julie and Angel, co-hosts of the El Encuentro Saturday night milonga, had =
brought him to my doctor (as I flew cross-country), he had so deteriorated that now he could no longer walk without support. His body =
could get no rest, no position was in the least comfortable. Only the slightest respite from his agony was to be found in massaging his back, =
massaging until my fingers and hands could do no more. I kept thinking of my failing-my weakness in not being able to endure longer, to afford =
him such small comfort. In the wee hours of Thursday, November 14, I drove Alberto to the hospital where he was admitted through Emergency. =
Until then, he had been taking Tylenol every four hours. The relentless, agonizing pain persisted even through the morphine drip, =
increased to the maximum, along with every pain medication known to medicine.

"In times of crisis," I told Alberto, "You will learn so much about people. You will learn that people who call themselves 'friend' are =
not. There will be some who, for whatever reasons-perhaps fear of their own mortality-will fail you. But far more often you will learn how =
wonderful people can be, people who were mere acquaintances will extend themselves in ways that would seem to reflect deep, long-standing =
friendships. A great gift to you will be discovering how giving people can be."

Never once, not that night on the phone, nor that night together in his home, nor over the days and nights in the hospital, did =
he ever say, "Why me?"

"You are my angel. Thank you for saving my life," he said, so glad to be at the hospital into which I had gotten him admitted despite the fact =
that his HMO had denied him the right to choose this very same hospital which was one of the primary reasons he had chosen the health plan he =
had. Now, finally, he had a biopsy. It confirmed that the "large mass in his stomach and smaller ones in his liver" (manifested in the scan =
and ultrasound that it took six weeks for his prior doctor to schedule) were indeed malignant. It was yet another 24 hours' wait to learn that =
he had a very aggressive cancer, an advanced metastatic mucinous adenocarcinoma which was not only in the stomach and liver, but also in =
the pancreas.

"Doctor", he said, "I want you to hide nothing from me, I want the entire truth. How long do I have?" He was told it could be six months =
to a year, but highly unlikely it would be as much as six months. "How much time do you need?", asked the doctor, explaining he could perhaps =
"buy some time with chemotherapy". Alberto said he "needed" at least through the end of the year although, because of the holidays, ideally =
he would like to have part of January. Alberto said what he needed to do was to transition professors into the curriculum he had created for =
the courses he was teaching at two colleges; he needed to get his estate matters organized and draw up a will; he wanted "to see my friends"; =
and, above all, put everything in order so as not to inconvenience his brother (who lives in Paris and is the only close family he had =
remaining alive.) He also hoped he could see his brother's five-year-old once again and meet the new baby.

I don't think ever in my lifetime could I experience someone with the degree of discipline Alberto had. Not emotionally-he had a temper. But =
intellectually and physically and ethically. He consumed books for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He set, met, exceeded goals. Always =
incredibly modest, not given to talking about himself in terms of accomplishment, his passing gave light to talent and proficiency beyond =
that which I could fathom. He was an artist, sketching realistic portraits and landscapes, drawing abstract mathematical and symmetrical =
designs, creating free-flowing imagery. He was a writer, with published papers in physics, mathematics, applied mechanics and unpublished short =
stories, poetry. He had read thousands of books, owning hundreds which bear his notes, underlinings. He had studied reflexology. And, in the =
last year, he had pursued the study of the Kabbalah, intrigued by the marriage of mysticism and mathematics in this thousands of years old =
philosophical religious practice.

Alberto was an extraordinarily deep but uncomplicated man. He was logical and eccentric. He gave new meaning to "having character": his =
word was his honor. He was unfailingly honest, his instincts about people were unerring. He was a profoundly private person. He never =
revealed to anyone that his father, who came to visit him for a month every year, had been murdered in July, 2001, perhaps by a jealous =
colleague in their field of architecture, as he strolled home one early evening in Tangier. He never wore a watch and didn't own a clock, but =
in the seventeen years I knew him, he was never late, except one time when his car broke down. And oh, that car. No radio. No heater. No =
air conditioning. It was on its last legs when he acquired it. But for the first two years of our dance partnership, he drove that car, from =
San Diego to Los Angeles, and back again, in 95 degree heat and 40 degree cold, over three hours each way, two or three times a week, so we =
could practice tango. The enticement for him to drive to L.A. and the excuse for me not to drive to San Diego was, in year one, because our =
first teacher lived in L.A. When Orlando Paiva returned to Argentina, we pursued our study of tango in Buenos Aires with Antonio Todaro, =
Pepito Avellaneda and many, many others. Year two, Alberto still working towards his several Ph.D's, continued his trek to L.A. because =
there were places to go to dance after our 2-3 hour practices.

In those early years, we were the very first local promoters of tango in L.A. in terms of bringing into Los Angeles directly from Argentina the =
first couple (Gloria y Eduardo) to teach, once the show "Tango Argentino" left town, as well as organizing many other workshops with =
guest teachers already on the U.S. teaching circuit.

In addition to organizing workshops, we were the first to present shows at different venues with guest artists from Argentina. We ourselves =
then began to teach.

We became known outside of Los Angeles largely because we produced and distributed the very first Instructional Video to originate in the U.S. =
Politics, especially in tango, being what they are, we were panned by some folks who took it upon themselves to judge and rate our video and =
the many subsequent efforts of others. Nevertheless, we got the highest ratings possible in all the commercial video guides, special interest =
catalogs, as well as the video rating guide for libraries throughout the U.S. We sold close to 3000 videos worldwide, in VHS and PAL formats, =
and had no complaints, no returns. The praise and gratitude over the years from many who learned from our video was always the best form of =
compensation.

Alberto and I were now, year four, traveling throughout the U.S., teaching workshops and performing our choreography. We taught and =
performed in New York under the auspices of both DanceSport and Stepping Out.

We were the first Americans to perform in Europe and Japan. We were the only Americans invited to teach and perform at the first tango congress =
in Europe, in which representatives from over 20 countries participated. We were the first-and for several years, the only-Americans invited to =
perform in the oldest tango festival in Argentina.

And we had begun to train dancers for a company that Alberto envisioned. When we premiered our show, RITMO TANGO, it was the very first =
theatrical presentation of Argentine Tango to originate in the U.S.-and the first to tour. Again, politics, especially in tango being what they =
are, we were panned by some folks who published Argentine Tango newsletters. But all the reviewers in the Los Angeles Times, the Las =
Vegas Sun, the New York Times and the major newspapers/magazines in dozens of U.S. cities, praised our show-the dancers, the choreography, =
the musicians, the singer. Whether playing venues seating 18,000 people or non-equity houses, we continually sold out, breaking several records =
as the longest-running show.

We were the first Argentine Tango dancers and choreographers in the U.S. to be represented by an agent, the head of the dance department of the =
foremost agency for dance.

We were hired by Disney to provide the entertainment for the world premiere of "Evita"; by Luis Miguel to choreograph for his world tour; =
by World Cup Soccer '94; by Julio Iglesias; for the first AIDS national fund-raiser on Spanish network television. We performed and/or =
choreographed for many movies, tv series, commercials as well as an off-Broadway hit play. We performed on Broadway and at the Hollywood =
Bowl, and in numerous theaters throughout America and Europe.

Everything we accomplished-our breakthroughs, our 'firsts', whatever successes we had-were against all odds: neither of us had dance =
backgrounds; neither of us had studio backing; neither of us were Argentine.

The worldwide re-birth of tango occurred in the U.S. just over eighteen years ago, with the advent of the show "Tango Argentino" on Broadway, =
shortly after which Alberto and I began our partnership. For over a decade, Alberto had no other financial remuneration outside of our =
teaching, performing, choreographing Argentine Tango. As it is for many pioneers, it was often a lonely and painful journey but always passion =
for this art form consumed Alberto. We persevered because of his vision and dedication.

He never, ever complained. He said, a very few times, without self-pity but matter-of-factly, "I don't think I can take much more." He would =
ask for the nurse or me to massage his back, his feet, his calves.

Sometimes, never acknowledging the pain, he would say, "Tell me a story." To me, he would admonish gently but firmly, "Now don't take too =
long to get to the point of the story. Try to steer clear of tangents." (He knew me all too well-but now his pain made it exceedingly difficult =
to concentrate.)

For days, prior to his brother David's arrival from Paris, nurses had told me how many people were all alone at the end. Many said, again =
that word, "how 'lucky' Alberto is not to be alone, that he has such a good friend." They just could not understand that there was no choice, =
no question; there was no greater gift to me than to be Alberto's friend. And everyone who met or visited Alberto in those thirteen days =
and twelve nights was profoundly touched, and I suspect, forever changed in some way by connecting with him.





Loreen Arbus



12.30.02