Exploring the calesita and volcada.
(A tip of the hat to Vera and Daniel, Edmonton Dance instructors at Casa Tango.)
Vera: “Remember guys, no violence here.”
Really? No violence? How rough can things get? This is a dance class, after all.
Vera’s caution is simply about the lead. Last class the boleo, this class the calesita. But it doesn’t matter the step. In tango there is a potential for any step to become violent (in a dance sense).
It is not that violent manuevers are taught, necessarily (though sometimes yes.) Typically what is taught is the exact opposite: connection, presence, engagement, sensitivity, communication, vulnerability, trust.
Ah, but there’s the rub. These gentle postures are precisely the opportunity for violence.
Consider: The current lesson is about the calesita (read: merry-go-round) – the ultimate balance exercise. The lead ensures the follower is upright on her axis, and steps around her in a perfect circle while she pivots on her supporting leg. A very delicate maneuver which can quickly go sideways if the lead misteps and causes the follow to lose her axis.
We spend fifty minutes of the hour practicing this walk-around move, focusing on nothing but providing support for our partner.
Then, at the last minute, just to spice things up, Daniel throws in a volcada (read: capsize) in which the lead removes support from the follower and she falls perilously, precariously into his arms (if she is lucky).
This move has violence written all over it! As if you were instantly picked up off the merry-go-round and dropped into a tilt-a-whirl!
That is how tango works. It is all a setup. All a ruse. Just when you begin to relax and trust – bam! Capsize. Volcado. Violence.
Of course this is still just dancing and well-executed volcados are a lot of fun. (Not so much if you get dropped.) But at its core tango is really just a charade in which we play-act the duplicities and complexities of life and relationships.
As in tango, so in play.
In real life, vulnerability is often the precursor for violence. Most perpetrators are people we know very well. Friends of the family or in fact family members themselves. People with whom we are familiar, comfortable, share space, trust. (My account is recorded in Trauma to Tango: dancing through the Shadows.)
All a set-up. Just when you let down your guard – bam! Violation. Violence.
So why practice tango? Are we running a training school for sexual deviants? Hope not.
In tango we learn to walk the fine line between vulnerability and violation, trust and betrayal, support and capsizing – all as play. We learn what it feels like to support someone in their space without wavering and then at the last moment choose our exit, (a delicate voleo or a volcado.)
We identify the turning point. We feel in our bodies where we transition from one intention to the other so that we can execute our interactions and transitions with delicate precision.
dance and life without violence.
As I return to news headlines about soldiers killing and innocents being killed I remember a Second World War cartoon with platoons of soldiers marching uniformly, arms outstretched and legs projected out in front. The caption: “If Hitler had taught his soldiers how to do the two step rather than do the goose step, there might never have been a war.”
Imagine: if everyone just learns to dance the tango …
(Originally published 2014)
A delicate, sensitive exit to a any move in which I am entrusting support (such as a calesita or a volcada) is not violent in any way shape or form in my humble opinion. Such a person has become educated on my level of trust and security, my comfort level and needs. In those circumstances I am a full participant, active in every step and move. Tricking a person or using surprise is not at all the same. When a leader wants me to relinquish my individual sense of safety. . . and accept his definition of what I need . . . we are rapidly moving toward the code words, “thank you.” That very lack of checking, lack of skill, lack of sensitivity and ability to adjust to my comfort range in moving out of my axis is why I have 1,000 ways to get out of those situations on the dance floor. Tango is a dance that invites partners to remain in connection and therefore it is very challenging. This is different from the pattern of connect, exit, connect, exit that mimics so many relationships off the dance floor.
I have appreciated every apology from said Daniel when he knows he has lifted me off my axis, removed me from my full abilities in the dance and deprived his ability to receive me fully in the dance.
The aim of my dance is not off and on and off an on. It is ON. The women I speak with are angry when tricked. We have given ourselves to this dance and don’t like our generosity to be stretched or put upon.
The fascination with power and powerlessness is a mildly interesting very old story in my opinion. Tango as a dance of equal power, full connection and flow through one conduit is what has my attention. I have no room and no tolerance for violence in tango.
Language is also important. There is so much to pay attention to, that there is no way we are going to get it all right. But attitudes and intentions make a big difference, and a non-violent community is one that really helps people to learn tango.
excellent, intelligent, thoughtful response. and I love your comparison between tango as always on vs. the on-off of other relating. one further comment that I would make is that the only reason we can have these types of conversations about tango is that tango plays one the edges and invites images of connection and disconnection, even though, as you say, in properly danced steps there is always connection. Consider a sacada. it is intended to look as though the lead is almost kicking the follow’s leg out from under her (him) although we know that this is again just a ruse. there often is no contact at all. it is all fun and games, but it mirrors or expresses real life skills.