1594  Notes from Buenos Aires 14

Date: Fri, 25 Jul 2003 15:22:56 -0500
From: Rick McGarrey <RICKMCG@FLASH.NET>
Subject: Notes from Buenos Aires 14

Notes from the dark side: Teaching tango.
(Part 1 of 2)

'I am a teacher of tango. Not a miracle worker.'
-Celia Blanco

I posted the two following sentences before, but it
doesn't hurt to repeat them: Celia Blanco is one of
those blunt, tough talking, sweet, hard working women
that I find irresistible. But how could you not love
a woman who has publicly called many of the well known
performers and instructors who tour in the U.S. 'A
bunch of clowns!'? She is a chain smoking teacher of
classical dance, who's look is, how should I say it,
not the lean athletic look of the classical ballet
dancer. But she has an electric kind of energy. You
immediately sense that you are in the presence of
someone formidable.

I will digress: My Spanish sucks. I speak at about
the level of a five year old Mexican boy from Sonora.
On my first couple of trips down here, my ability to
dance tango would always tank. I'd get a bad case of
rookie's nerves, and it would take me a week or so to
relax and catch my stride. This is no longer much of
a problem with dancing, but as far as the language,
whatever small factory in my brain that thinks and
speaks in Castellano, closes it's doors, and doesn't
want to reopen as soon as I arrive. I find myself
looking blankly at people who are saying things I
understand completely, but it seems to be coming out
as gibberish. They could be speaking English and I
wouldn't understand. It's situational. I can speak
in Castellano all day with Alejandra, and not even
know I'm doing it, but a taxi or bus driver will say
something to me, and it sounds like 'mmvbfft
sovvla'. So you would think a formidable personality
like Celia cause permanent brain lock. But just the
opposite. I was able to converse quite well in
Castellano with her.

Celia is a known choreographer of tango for the
theater, (including a production of 'Forever Tango').
She has been teaching tango for a long time- 15 years
ago she partnered up to teach with Eduardo Arquimbau
when his wife was having a child, and she is very
highly regarded in Buenos Aires. She is not, however,
well known in the U.S. because she has never taught
there (although she does teach in Europe). She is
the 'Maestra de Tango' in Teatro San Martin. This is
the big theater on Corrientes Street, and it is also
the cultural center of Argentina for theater,
photography, contemporary dance, music, and tango
(Teatro Colon is the center for ballet, opera, and
concerts). It takes up almost a city block, and the
back part of the building is a huge place with many
floors and rehearsal halls. FM tango radio station is
on the 9th floor of this building. Alejandra and I
were allowed to attend one of the classes she gives
there for serious students of performing arts, but
first I want to write about a class she gave at her
club, that was for social dancers.

The first thing that surprised me about her is that
she uses the eight count basic to teach tango! I'm
not sure why I assumed this wasn't used much by good
teachers. I suppose it is because I associate it with
my first experience with tango classes.

My first instructor knew absolutely nothing about
music or tango dancing, but he knew the eight count
basic, and he used it as the first step in a long,
endless series of classes that consisted of memorizing
patterns. He was a nice fellow, though, and he seemed
to be able to keep students coming back, with a mix
of good humor and lots of flattery. He had a subtle
way of discouraging people from attending any other
type of tango related activities, which tended to keep
everyone clueless. But you really didn't have to go
anywhere else, because he and his partner ran a full
service operation. They entertained the students with
a lot of performances, and he held his own unusual
versions of practicas and 'milongas', often held in
spacious, empty rooms. I guess his students enjoyed
it, because many stayed with him for quite some time.
You left each class with a sense of real progress,
because after each one you had learned a couple of new
and complex ways of dancing tango. Sadly, there was
no instruction on posture, musical connection, or
walking. And you weren't really leading anything,
because all of the followers had memorized their parts
as well. He would teach the men on one side of the
room, and his partner would teach the mirror image to
the women on the other. The only technical detail
that was ever taught in the class was an absolute rule
enforced by the woman that was his partner: The
leader's right hand must be positioned exactly on the
woman's left shoulder blade, with the tip of the
middle finger one inch from the middle of the back.
Exactlyone inch. Violate this rule, and you would
hear about it fast. It took me a while to figure out
that this was not far and away the most important rule
in Argentine tango.

I remember once when I got a little more advanced,
trying to change direction in the course of one of
the patterns they were teaching. I was doing the
steps with his partner, when someone got in the way
and I tried to lead her in another, unexpected
direction. She made a big show of stumbling, and
falling backwards, and lectured me very loudly for
making a big mistake. I wasn't a complete fool
though, and after that incident I began to suspect
that something wasn't right. After about four months
I ended up throwing everything out, and I began to try
to learn tango from videos. Those classes were
marketed aggressively as 'genuine Argentine tango',
and his students may still be marching around in those
big rooms, tango music playing softly in the
background like the soothing elevator music played in
the day rooms of mental hospitals. Actually, they are
both nice people, and all of his students love the
praise he lavishes on them, but today I approach every
tango class and everyone who says they are a
tango 'instructor' with healthy skepticism. It was
the road to tango hell, and to this day I am still a
little angry about it (Does it show?).

Wow, that just came out of nowhere! I really I feel
better now, so let's take a deep breath, and
continue. If this man's classes were like a 'nice
stroll in Palermo Park', the classes Celia gives at
her club are something else. I'm searching for an
analogy. The words Iwo Jima, Normandy, and Bosnia
come to mind. Maybe some place with land mines.

Celia's club, Lo de Celia's, is pretty much
acknowledged as the place where much of the best
dancing in the city takes place. She teaches classes
both in Teatro San Martin, and also in her club, and
the other night we went to her club and sat in on
one. She's a great person, but don't mess with her.
Although Alejandra says she has mellowed in recent
years, a friend of Alejandra's, who was really more
interested in meeting a man than dancing tango
recently insisted on going to Celia's classes.
Alejandra tried to discourage her without success. By
the second class Celia was on to her, and told her to
hit the road. The woman was furious.

Here is my experience watching one of Celia's
classes. She and I have met before, and she greets us
warmly, with a lot of interest in me, the gringo who
is dancing with Alejandra. We sit in her club on the
far side of the room because Celia smokes constantly.
Much of the time she is seated, talking to two older
milongueras who are friends of Alejandra's from the
milongas, and who help Celia with the classes. The
students dance, and the music is so good that it's all
I can do to hold myself back from getting up and
dancing. But I'm a little intimidated by Celia. She
seems to be talking to her friends and smoking, but
it's obvious she sees everything. I hear her bark out
something and Alejandra laughs. 'Did you forget how
to count?' Celia yells. Most of the students are
younger, but a man about my age sneaks over behind her
and sits. She pounces on him. 'The class is for
working. If you want to sit, go home, and don't come
back.' He shakes his head and grins to himself, but
after a minute he gets back on the floor. Apparently
he's not that scared of her. Alejandra says she has
actually seen Celia speaking on the phone, with her
back apparently turned away from the class, and then
suddenly turn and yell at a student who was making a
mistake. Spooky. A minute later, someone else takes
a hit. 'What's the matter with you? Can't you hear
the music?' she yells from her table. But no one
seems very indimidated. They must be used to it.
Sometimes she gets up to demonstrate or correct
something, and she often leads the women. The
milongueros say she is the best woman in BsAs at
leading tango.

(End of part 1. Part 2 is continued in Report #15)