Pt. 1. The last one to arrive wins.*
*English translation of a brilliant Instagram/ FB post by Candela Ramos, “cuerpotango”. Follow her for some wonderful instructional Tango videos.
The last one to arrive, wins. The faster you want to get there, the more things you miss.
Tango doesn’t appear when you run to complete the movement. It appears when you open time-space.
You slow down. And I don’t mean to go slower.
I’m talking about making room for perception. To let the attention decentralize and start to capture all those tiny subtleties that are happening, …when the leg cushions, …when flexing and extending aren’t shapes but ways of giving density to time.
Because in between one step and another there is a universe of information,…the pressure of the floor, …the plasticity of the legs, …the arrival that is not hurried.
And there, when you don’t want to make the movement but to inhabit it, a sensitivity appears, a listening.
That’s when Tango appears.
Candela Ramos
Pt. 2. Tai Chi Tango.
“Reality is an illusion. Albeit a very persistent one.” A. E.
My hunch is that Einstein’s thinking, certainly his imagination, was affected more by his musicianship than his experiments.
In truth, his theory of special relativity – that time and space are not absolute but are relative to the observer’s frame of reference – was imagined long before it could ever be tested, perhaps while playing his violin or out on his morning stroll.
Every musician knows, as does every dancer, martial artist and mystic, that time and space can be shaped, stretched and condensed through our engagement. A musician who does not stretch time is as entertaining as the tick-tock of a metronome. A dancer who does not energetically engage with space is simply flailing their arms and legs nonsensically. A martial artist whose intention extends no further than the end of their fist or foot is powerless. A mystic who does not journey beyond this mechanistic realm should shampoo their magic carpet.
Meaning, power, and engagement with this world order all rest on our conviction that time and space can be stretched, reshaped, and condensed through motion and intention.
In my solo practice of Tai Chi, the space I move in is shaped by the energy and intensity I infuse into each movement and moment. I slow down or speed up. I pause, I breathe, I relax, I tense up. It is as if I am playing with taffy, pushing and pulling, stretching, punching, kicking.
Similarly, in Tango. Refer back to Candela’s excellent exploration of slowing down, attending to the moment, listening to each muscle movement and sensation.
Add a layer to this practice of attentiveness. It takes two to Tango. I need to be attentive not only to my own balance, positioning, tension, and responsiveness, but also to my partner’s.
And then there is the music, others on the dance floor, the embrace, the sensations of touch, sights, sounds, smells.
How can I possibly keep all of this in my attention?
I use the same techniques I use in Tai Chi. I play with time and space…. I slow everything down (and occasionally speed it up for contrast)….I adjust my embrace with my partner to create more or less space between us….I turn my focus away from step sequences and fall into the infinite expanse of the moment….I embody the ancient Buddhist mantra: stillness, silence, spaciousness.
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Some words ask to be read. Others ask to be lived. This is one I will carry with me for a while. Thank you.