I Never Dance With Strangers

Wait just a minute! I thought that was the mystique of tango: the freedom to hold an absolute stranger in your arms for ten minutes without having to explain yourself. (Thanks Gustavo*)

Let me clarify.

Absolutely, I dance with people I have never met before, people who often have never danced Tango. In fact, these are often my favourite dances and dance partners. 

So yes, they are new – both to me and to tango. But I don’t consider them strangers. 

Most anyone who comes to Tango, especially for the first time, shares some common attributes and attitudes. They bring a mix of apprehension, self-consciousness, fear of embarassment, vulnerability, but also curiosity and hope to capture some of the mystique and allure of Tango.

When we embrace, somewhat tentatively at first, this fear melts away into trust, curiosity and confidence, and blossoms into intuitive, instinctual movement. Amazingly,  by the end of the dance my partner is typically doing steps that they should have had ten lessons to learn. 

Of course, their technique is not perfect but then neither is mine. The delight and satisfaction is not in the flawless execution of steps but in the realization that this person who at first glance seemed to be a stranger to me and to the dance, was actually someone with whom I could quickly connect at a core level through trust and vulnerability and our mutual desire for connection.

So yes, I love dancing with people whom I don’t know and who don’t know tango. But they are not strangers, neither to me nor to the dance…. 

….which leads me to theory about dance generally and Tango specifically. 

Learning to dance Tango is as much about unlearning as learning. It is refamiliarizing ourselves to what we have always known. It is about abandoning our adult aversion to touch and sensuality and our fear of making mistakes and opening up to an instinctual delight in play, movement and physical contact.

This is not a new learning. We lived it as children. It is merely peeling back the egoistic layers of fear and mistrust of ourselves and others and indulging our instinctual body awareness. When we dance Tango, we are reverting to our shared childhood delight in all those experiences and expressions that make us richly human. I come away from almost every dance with the conviction that my partner and I share a deep familiarity, a lifelong knowing. 

A young German woman, new to the city and certainly to me, arrives at the milonga. As host I welcomed her and invite her to dance. She is a skilled dancer but the music is slow and our dancing is soft, simple and close. After each song we remain in close embrace and move seamlessly into the next song.

I had never danced like this before. At the end of the tanda I was mesmerized and speechless, almost breathless. And a little self-critical. Had I been too clingy, forward? I approached her afterward to apologize if I had been inappropriate.

Her response: “I am a biologist and have been working in the mountains alone for the last three months. I just needed some close human contact. Thank you for holding me.”

Not a stranger.   

Approaches to evoke trust and spontaneity in a novice partner. 

1. Sincere delight in this opportunity to share in this moment of exploration.  
2. Complete confidence in my partner’s ability to figure things out as we go along. Rather than correcting what they can not do, I draw out their instinctual ability to dance. I focus on the positives and strengths, not weaknesses.
3. Genuine admiration for my partner’s courage, curiosity and adventurous spirit.
4. Have fun.
5. Compliment. Greet with a smile. Exude positivity.
6. Limit my leading to steps and movements to what they can readily master, rather than showing off my skills. 

A wonderful video about encouraging exploration and curiosity in Tango:

*(gustavo bezencry saba)