Milonga tandas and I have had occasional short flings, but there’s never been much indication that we’re relationship material (not that I can claim any expertise on that topic!).

I actually began writing this as a section of the marathon, marathon post, but Scotty told me the WordPress engine cannae take it, so I had to split it off into its own post …

Most leaders stay as far away from milonga tandas as they can, for as long as they can. One teacher told me he spent the first few years hiding in the toilets whenever a milonga tanda was due.

That wasn’t the case for me. I actually started dancing milonga ridiculously early (yeah, ok, I did everything ridiculously early, from first dancing in a milonga, to visiting BsAs).

But I soon fell victim to a consistent pattern. Namely, I’d enjoy it for a while, then one of three things would happen, and I’d retire from milonga. Those three things were …

One, I’d watch some people who can really dance milonga, and slink off into a dark corner, feeling like I had no clue. Or …

Two, I’d find myself getting frustrated with the difference between how I wanted to dance milonga, and how I actually could. Or …

Three, I’d simply get bored with my overly-simplistic dance.

At that point, I’d announce my retirement from milonga – until, some way down the road, I’d find I had one more tool in my mostly-empty milonga toolbox, and give it another go.

Rinse and repeat.

Something clicked in the night

Well, something clicked on a Sunday afternoon, actually. I’d just arrived, and as I was putting on my shoes, when I felt a laser mirada from off to one side. She too had just arrived, getting there one song before me.

We danced the last half of the song … which turned out to be the last song of the tanda. I did my usual “Shall we wait and see what’s coming?” – adding the rider that I’d be running away if it was a milonga tanda.

It was. Not only that, but the opening song was heavy on the vocals. This is normally exactly what I want in a tango song – but not a milonga one! My body always wants to dance to the singer, but it would feel weird in milonga not to be dancing to the beat. So my dancing brain just crawls under a rock and hides there for the rest of the tanda. Only …

It was a gorgeous song! (I can’t tell you what, because where milongas are concerned, I get no further than being able to recognise Milonga Sentimental.) My follower stood there patiently for a few days while I figured out whether I was going to risk it.

I mean, I loved this song, and my body assured my brain that it had got this, and my grey matter (or as much of it as I had left in my sleep-deprived state) wouldn’t need to get involved. I told it ‘Ok, maybe, but you know milonga tandas just get faster and faster, right?’ It just shushed me. I pointedly told it that I was holding it entirely responsible for the consequences.

We danced. I can’t tell you how, because my brain was doing the three wise monkeys thing. But the songs didn’t get faster. It was the calmest milonga tanda I’ve ever heard. I loved it. I think I will have to propose to Yuko after all.

My core challenge is that I find it difficult in general to lead changes in time system, from single-time to double-time and back (especially back!), and never more so than in fast milonga songs. One thought I’d had was to lead a pause, and use that change speed. But there were two problems with this idea.

One, I don’t know milonga music well enough to know when an opportunity for a pause will arrive – and by the time I recognise that one has come, it’s already somewhere over the horizon.

Two, I couldn’t figure out how to lead a pause from double-time – there just didn’t seem enough time to do so. I’d find myself trapped in double-time, unsure of how to get out. 

But then I watched a couple dancing beautifully while I was peeking out from behind my fan to ensure nobody could catch my eye. I saw the leader use his right hand to begin signalling a lifting motion. They slowed. At the top of the ‘lift,’ they paused. Could it be that easy?

Later in the evening, I cabeceod a follower I didn’t know. For a milonga tanda. In which I was going to try an experiment. I can hear you yelling ‘Nooo!’ from here. Believe me, my brain was doing the same. But my body again did the ‘shut up, brain’ thing, and off we went.

It worked! Afterwards, the leader I’d watched earlier was amused to have this unknown guy walk up to him and thank him for the free lesson!

It’s actitude all over again

One of the best pieces of advice I got right at the beginning of my tango journey was to apply actitude!

A combination of Acting (pretend you’re super confident in your dancing) and Attitude (dance as if you are).

And also Laura’s more recent advice about looking out, not in. The fact is that followers who are familiar with my milonga dance do cabeceo me for milonga tandas, and convincingly tell me they enjoy it.

And take the same approach to dancing milonga as I do to dancing tango: focus on the how, not the what.

And (I promise this is the last ‘and’) remember that milonga is all about lighthearted fun. Skill and technique are of course worth chasing, but in the meantime, just treat it as the tango equivalent of nightclub dancing (glossing over the fact that I’ve danced in a nightclub all of once in my life).

So ok, if you want to cabeceo me for a milonga tanda, and are willing to sign my standard liability waiver, go for it!

Photo: Ron Fung/Unsplash