Tonight was the monthly Tango Space drinks, when students and teachers get together to drink wine, talk tango and– Well, ok, we pretty much just drink wine and talk tango.
The pub plays a pretty eclectic selection of music, but I’d never before heard any tango music. On this occasion, however, it was playing something that sounded like a pretty convincing impression of a milonga …
P and S decided to take advantage of this and the wooden floor in the centre of the pub, and danced a very fast milonga. Not long afterwards, there was another song which, though not tango music, had a kind of milonga rhythm to it. S and I looked at each other, nodded then headed to the wooden floor section.
As Drunk Tango goes, this was strictly amateur level compared to my first ever experience of the art. This time I’d had a couple of large glasses of wine, rather than made an unfair contribution toward consuming four bottles of same. But even so, it was milonga-paced music with a follower I’d never actually danced with before (though we’d had a very good class together).
I didn’t attempt anything other than steps and small & large rebounds. But we were connected, it was musical and it was fun. That’s the hat-trick where my level of milonga is concerned!
It was, on one level, a moment of silliness in a pub. But on another, it represented a milestone of sorts. First, just spontaneously deciding to dance, without any hesitation or doubt. Second, knowing that I could dance in socks to some unknown music with an unfamiliar follower. Third, not being embarrassed to do so in front of a large gathering of tango dancers, including one of my teachers.
That represents a degree of comfort, familiarity and confidence with the dance I couldn’t have imagined a few months ago. Drunk tango still rules.
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