Que es mas macho?

Had a new lesson last friday, and it went pretty well.

Unravelled how I was leading a cross, which was forcing a leg extension by my follows: I was coming into the last step (together for me, cross for the follow) with too much energy, sending the back leg out and around.

Eliminating that extra energy, and focusing on closing with the right shoulder after the cross, there is now a very nice little pivot possible at the end of the cross. It feels nice!

After that, though, we tried to make my dancing a little less soft. I (and, as I'm told, many Americans) dance with a very soft style. 'Soft' is probably not descriptive enough, as it includes a lot of things: precision in steps, directness of movement, machones in attitude, walking technique ... as it happens, I don't dance a lot like an (mythic or idealized) Argentinean.

So I have been working on this a little, and it's hard work.  I actually don't want to change entirely - many people like the softer style. I would like to have both available to me, though, as dictated by partner, mood, and music.

Lots of interesting discussion of technique, as well as videos of dancers here. As far as I know, the most comprehensive on-line source for Tango videos (well, except for youtube, perhaps) and discussion. I have tried before to walk more straight-legged, but it never seems to work quite right with my body.

Injured Shoulder

I pulled my shoulder last Sunday.

Perhaps ironically, I pulled it while stretching. I stretched a little too far, using my weight to lean into it, and I felt like I suddenly developed a little knot right under my shoulder blade. This knot persists, though I can tell it's improving -- I can now take a full breath without a twinge of pain.

It was that twinge of pain that prompted my post, though. I danced  with a friend in my kitchen after pulling it on Sunday; I haven't been out to a milonga. While dancing, I would occasionally have a spike of pain from my shoulder. This created a difficulty: every time my shoulder spiked, I was jerked out of connection, music, and embrace. Indeed, quite literally, my embrace was hurting me. It spurred two thoughts.

First -- as a result, I had to focus extra hard on re-gaining connection after each spike. I wouldn't want to use pain for it, but something similar would make for good practice, I think. Songs that stop and start randomly, having to change partners or directions without warning, etc.

Second -- I think the ability to avoid causing moments like this (in either yourself or your partner) is one important role for focusing on physical technique. Not moments of pain, necessarily, but moments where your body feels awkward for yourself, or unclear for your partner.

I  return to dancing tonight, and here's to better connection and re-connection on the dance floor.

Excitement and Frustration

I spent a great weekend at the inaugural LA Tango Marathon. I traveled with two of my friends, and we proved to be good roommates and travel partners. Many in-jokes were created, and lots of laughter accompanied the trip. The dancing was great - I danced with many new people, for hours and hours. Music was generally excellent, I don't remember ever feeling let down by it.  I also danced with people I have seen at other events, and it was fun to reconnect.

The marathon itself had one main issue: the floor of the venue was tough. It was very hard, and slightly sticky linoleum. It was also old: sunk in some places; rippled in others; generally not very nice. From about 1-inch upward, the room had been remodeled, and it was gorgeous: stained-glass-like painted panels in the ceiling, chandeliers, and high ceilings. My feet mostly lasted through the dancing, and I'm very glad I went.

While in LA, I took a private lesson. I have not done a lot of private tuition in the past; most of my learning comes from group classes, and time spent dancing. I also must admit to not a whole lot of practice time. Therefore - the lesson was hugely useful, in a technique sense. I mostly dance close, and my pivots lack a certain amount of technique or balance. They are just not something I perform very often as a lead. We also discussed some posture (always welcome) and leading changes, which I enjoyed (I might expand another time, but basically: incorporating thoughts of my belly as a leading tool). Apparently these changes were successful, as a regular partner immediately commented on them when I returned to Seattle.

However, the immediate effect was to make me feel hugely unsuccessful as a dancer: how could I think I have any ability at this, when there are so many basic, fundamental movements I still don't do well? It took me a couple of hours at the dance (and some very enjoyable dances) to shake it off. I think I feel this way in a lot of areas: when faced with an expert, I am reminded that I am not one.

A friend did tell me this, and it made me feel a lot better: "Your dance can always improve, but don't forget there are already a lot of people that love dancing with you." If you are feeling similarly down about your abilities, remember that this is likely true for you as well.