Condor y Águila

2021/09/08 by Willow Running Hawk

It is my hope that this message will reach out to all our sisters and brothers of the Americas, north, south, east and west. We are a collective of women, a multitude of colors, tribes, ethnicities and languages. For all of our differences, we are all sisters, and we are all daughters of Unchimaka, our planet Earth, our mother. As women we have struggled to be acknowledged, to be respected, to control our own bodies, to follow our traditional ways. We have fought so that our histories be not forgotten. Our voices speak to our collective histories. We have endured violence and economic marginalization. We have learned the hard way. We have lost family and loved ones to a powerful enemy who knows no reason, no justice, no kindness or understanding. We have lost elders who are the last speakers of their native language. Our human species, and many other species of the plant and animal kingdoms, are now at risk of extinction. Is it someone else’s fault? Who can we blame? Are we helpless victims? No. We must hold ourselves to account, because if we don’t, no one will. All we have is today. Be strong! We are the Lifegivers. Through our bodies we bring life into the world. We must rise up and do the right thing, for all of our mothers, sisters and daughters. Be a woman, be strong, you can, we can! Because we have to. And yes, for our brothers, too. Let us be a source of strength for each other. There is no other way forward.

Versión en Español

Somos un colectivo de mujeres, una multitud de colores, tribus, etnias e idiomas. A pesar de todas nuestras diferencias, todas somos hermanas y todas somos hijas de Unchimaka, nuestro planeta Tierra, nuestra madre. Como mujeres, hemos luchado por ser reconocidas, respetadas, por controlar nuestros propios cuerpos, por seguir nuestras costumbres tradicionales. Hemos luchado para que no se olviden nuestras historias. Nuestras voces hablan de nuestras historias colectivas. Espero que esta revista llegue a todas nuestras hermanas y hermanos de las Américas, norte, sur, este y oeste. Hemos soportado la violencia y la marginación económica. Hemos aprendido por las malas. Hemos perdido a familiares y seres queridos por un enemigo poderoso que no conoce la razón, la justicia, la bondad o la comprensión. Hemos perdido ancianos que son los últimos hablantes de su lengua materna. Nuestra especie humana, y muchas otras especies de los reinos vegetal y animal, están ahora en peligro de extinción. ¿Es culpa de otra persona? ¿A quién podemos culpar? ¿Somos víctimas indefensas? No. Debemos rendir cuentas, porque si no lo hacemos, nadie lo hará. Todo lo que tenemos es hoy. ¡Sé fuerte! Somos los Dadores de vida. A través de nuestros cuerpos traemos vida al mundo. Debemos levantarnos y hacer lo correcto, por todas nuestras madres, hermanas e hijas. ¡Sé mujer, sé fuerte, puedes, nosotros podemos! Porque tenemos que hacerlo. Y sí, también para nuestros hermanos. Seamos una fuente de fortaleza el uno para el otro. No hay otro camino a seguir.

On the “Freedom of Intimacy”

2021/05/27 by Willow Running Hawk

Some years back, The Supreme Court majority wrote: “The nature of marriage is that, through its enduring bond, two persons together can find other freedoms, such as expression, intimacy, and spirituality.”

Scalia scoffed at this assertion, saying that even “the nearest hippie” would know that marriage hinders the freedom of intimacy. Here are his words:

“Really? Who ever thought that intimacy and spirituality (whatever that means) were freedoms? And if intimacy is, one would think Freedom of Intimacy is abridged rather than expanded by marriage. Ask the nearest hippie.”

Scalia wrote that if he ever were to join an opinion beginning with that sentence he “would hide my head in a bag,” saying such language was more like the “mystical aphorisms of the fortune cookie” than, say, legendary Chief Justice John Marshall.

•••••••••

Un escritor que maneja el sitio twitter de Jorge Luis Borges me envió un mensaje:

“Un placer encontrarnos en este rincón de letras perdidas entre laberintos, espejos y símbolos Borgeanos. Nos leemos en @EstebanMPinotti.”

Estoy armando una respuesta:

A mí también me pierdo en los laberintos de callejones virtuales torcidos que me arrastran en un silencio sin piedad … pero no me hace falta mas que una mirada, o un tango bien bailado, para devolverme a la temporalidad frágil y maravillosa de aquí y ahora.

No es cierto que, algunas veces, cuando te pongas a escribir, las ideas te salen de la mano y de repente te has escrito algo mucho más bonito de lo que hubieras pensabado?

la respuesta:

“Hermosas tus palabras. Maravillosas tu reflexión. Placer compartido. Las letras acercan y unen más de lo que las distancias puedan …”

Sí, d’acuerdo hasta cierto punto. Sin embargo, la conexión a través de las letras siempre será una conexión falsa. Hay siempre una máscara, una ilusión hecho por la identidad que uno quiere proyectarse al otro. Por eso me gustan mucho a los caballos, los niños (fui docente de primaria) y el tango, en donde los sentimientos se expresan con cara y cuerpo, y no se hace falta las palabras.

Over and out from Buenos Aires!

When Tango Breaks Your Heart

2014/06/12 by Willow Running Hawk

This could happen to YOU! It happened to me!

Man Overboard! Metaphorically, that is.

>?!#*>&^?!!@<%^*$#*&+)&?=!!${@!

Get it? I thought so.

What happens if you LIVE for TANGO, but your dance partner’s secret desire is for YOU to want to dance with him ALONE?

“Baby, I want you to love me like no one has ever loved me.”

I guess that means I never loved you enough? Has anyone? Is it humanly possible?

“If I was the LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, you wouldn’t WANT to dance with anyone else.”

How many times have you been dancing… let’s say, in a class in Miami, New York, Buenos Aires… and your boyfriend suddenly walks over and rips you away from the guy you just rotated to?

Yes, he’s an animal! Sorry! Talk about embarassing!

How about when two of your favorite teachers comment that you are a saint to put up with him?

Yeah, the relationship was disintegrating over the last year or so. The vibe was toxic. I had to get out.

know the feeling?

He’s a extraordinary guy in so many ways: smart, sexy, generous… a real heartbreaker. “Qué pinta de malevo!” they said in Buenos Aires. Definitely old school.

el malevo

He played the possessive, jealous Latin Lover to a T. He expects a woman to devote herself to him 100%… you know, like our parents’ generation. He was raised that way. All the women’s lib and progressive politics never really made a dent in his consciousness. He couldn’t hear what I had to say or understand what I was feeling. Blah blah blah!! You get the drift.

Tango gigolo

Yeah, he should’ve been a King. Maybe he was in a past life. Carlos V? Shakespeare’s Othello?

Ah, yes, my Caliban, the “passionate child-curious part of us all…” (from The Tempest).

He would have been happy burning and pillaging, plundering women by the score. Taking “art groupie” to a new level! [1] ¡Cómo no, Comandante de mi vida, por supuesto que te quiero! Be Merciful, O Love of my Life!

I just had to get lost in Jane Austen for a while. Like, take a time out from the 21st century?

I reread Persuasion. Dashing sea-captain wins girl’s heart. Girl’s family doesn’t approve: he’s not sufficiently rich or well-connected. She breaks the engagement. He goes off to sea, endures raging tempests and howling gales, pillages French merchant ships aplenty, survives enough courageous exploits for a whole season of telenovelas. He returns 7 years later, fabulously rich. Everyone adores him now. Quite the huffy Salty Dog about town. What happens next? Read it yourself, you lousy knave! Or at least see the movie version.

Have you noticed “the versatility of shipwreck imagery in conveying various forms of misfortune?” [2] Speaking of his ship, the Asp, our hero was rashly confident: “I knew that we should either go to the bottom together, or that she would be the making of me.” (Persuasion, 71)

The guy’s got attitude. My guy had plenty of attitude, too. Definitely a tough customer.

Austen’s Captain Wentworth

But whom would you prefer to live with? A feudal warlord or a happy village idiot? As those really our only choices? Of course not, silly. But my point remains: we have indeed strayed far off course in this 21st century. Are there no crossover models available? Like, a compact SUV? A mini-Hummer? What ever happened to the ideal Renaissance Man? You mean the DNA still hasn’t evolved?

Wherefore art thou, Leonardo? Veni, Vedi, Vinci: I came, I saw, I conquered. Not sure who said that; a Roman Emperor perhaps? Maybe THE Holy Roman Emperor… Carlos V? Alexander the Great?

Alfonso X El Sabio

Recognize this guy? Old Alfonso the Wise is the tío that kick-started the Renaissance. I’m not kidding! Check him out. He wrote the first book about the game of chess around 1283. The original lives at the Escorial, in Madrid. Yeah, he was a heartbreaker too, you can be sure. Renaissance Man cultivated “…a harmonious mind, whose splendid passions and imaginations are controlled and directed by [his] enlightened reason…” [Wiki] Where can I find one of HIM? Does HE exist?

Elizabeth Bennet disdains Mr. Collins

No, I don’t think he’s got it. His motto is Vini, Vedi, Vegi. ja ja! I came, I saw, I ate salad, I bored my cousins to death reading from Fordyce’s Sermons, then I got drunk and made a complete fool of myself. Too bad, so sad. Not my knight in shining armor. Not even California Chrome.

I’m tired of being the subjugated woman! Internalized oppression, get thee hence! Somebody please let me OUTTA HERE! Hmmm… no answer.

Am I dreaming? Do I have unreasonable expectations? Am I thinking too reductively? Is it too tempting to boil it all down to the struggle between dark and light? Am I done playing out my postcolonial subjugation fantasies?

Cristóbal Colón just back from the East Indies with a few captive Indians para Los Reyes Católicos

Guess I gotta be my own Rescuer.

Free at Last!! Lord have mercy!!

The Captain’s delightful sister, Mrs. Croft, comments on the voyages she has enjoyed with her husband, Admiral Croft. She advocates that women should go to sea with their husbands, and not be left behind to wait and wonder, despite the discomforts of life on board… not to mention being the only female amongst the crew… yikes!

Must have been tough to be a drama queen with no other women to bitch to. Oops, I meant to say, to pour upon each other the sisterly balm of wise and considered counsel?

“We none of us expect to be in smooth water all our days,” Mrs. Croft advises Anne, Austen’s heroine in Persuasion. (75) A critic notes, “Mrs. Croft is arguing, obviously, for the place of adventure and geographical mobility in women’s lives.” You go, girl! [3]

Maybe I’ll go live on a boat… a little morning yoga on deck, anyone? Plenty of sushi and piña coladas? Warm, tropical waters?

Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Mela? in Lina Wertmuller's Swept Away

Did I mention subjugation fantasies?Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Melato in Swept Away (1974)

It’s my turn to forge ahead with a little borrowed relentless self-confidence! I know you’re all anxious to see if I’m brave indeed or just foolishly reckless. Back on land, summertime is just around the corner… throwing out those delicious green tendrils, the tiny budding sweet peas, the gorgeous bursting hollyhocks… yeah, could be salad, could be scenery… is there still time to plant my garden?

Jane Austen describes a farmer in Persuasion, the scene at Winthrop. I feel like him. He “does not simply think that the season will change; it is as if his exertions will somehow help to bring the change about. His labor is a sign of his hope.” [4]

The farmer’s hard work can be seen not as an attempt to control the natural world, or to force a particular outcome in the narrative of our lives, but as a collaboration or stewardship with nature which guides our efforts, and which may grant us a deeper understanding of nature, including human nature, and give us hope for bounteous harvests to come.

“When characters in this novel exert themselves in such a spirit, they gain, by degrees and despite inescapable human limitations, the liberty of soul that makes possible authentic happiness.” [5]

Yeah, I have been reading and rereading the last issue of Persuasions, the journal of the Jane Austen Society (JASNA). Does random literary analysis float your boat? I find it particularly convenient when trying to escape reality. Yet another rereading of Persuasion is next, as soon as I unpack my books. Yes, moving again. How many times now in the last three years? I’ve lost count. For now, it’s the ranch for the summer. Just me and that ornery palomino mare, let’s hope she doesn’t slam me into any more phone poles! Full speed ahead! Let loose the topsail! Damn the torpedoes!

Yes, Virginia, even married couples danced with others a century ago: a quadrille.

See you soon on the dance floor!

and goodbye to a great friend.

[1] Stole that line from Woody Allen’s movie, Midnight in Paris. A must-see for all Francophiles.

[2] Toby R. Benis, “Shipwrecked on land in Persuasion,” Persuasions, No. 35, 2013, 203.

[3] Ibid, 202. Persuasions is the annual compilation of critical essays on Jane Austen’s life and works, published by JASNA, the Jane Austen Society of North America.

[4] Kathryn Davis, “Austen’s Providence in Persuasion”; Persuasions, No. 35, 216.

[5] Ibid, 223.

Tango Dancers Open Café

2013/12/20 by Willow Running Hawk

Carlton Café & Bakery

We’ve opened a café of our own right here in the backcountry of California’s Central Coast. This little backwater halfway between Frisco and LA is its own kind of gorgeous, straight out of Steinbeck: rolling hills covered with vineyards and statuesque oaks; cottonwoods and sycamores along the creeks flowing into the Pacific Ocean and the mighty Salinas.

Salinas River

Atascadero, once so sleepy it rolled over and played dead every night at 6, now practically teems with amorphous protomorphium swimming blindly upstream through the marine layer into they know not what or wherefore (picture 3 pm when junior get-highers get out of jail free). But no worries, we are all about helping our fellow pleistozoic critteralium evolve and merge into the more convoluted streams of higher consciousness, otherwise known as twenty-first century artsy wine-guzzling nouveau-cui$ine Culture with a Capital C.

6005 El Camino Real
carltonbakery@gmail.com

There was at last count one really good restaurant in our three-block downtown: Fig; another one in nearby Santa Margarita: The Range (as in, “Home, home on the Range”)(*if you don’t love classic western writer Will James I’m not talking to you anymore!); one great burger joint: Sylvester’s Big, Hot n’ Juicy; an awesome homestyle Mexican place (El Compadre) next to a fine bakery (Hush Harbor); and a classic dive: the newly reborn Whisky n’ June. (Never trust a man who doesn’t like whisky and women!)

yeah baby!

Hmmm… where was I going with all this? Floating facedown in those muddy waters of swirling upwardly mobile sometimes divinely-inspired (as in a chocolate croissant) sense and sensibility, was I? Oh, yeah, downtown Atascadero also has…

The ARTery

a hangout frequented by cool artistic types that boasts a scandalous history of NIMBY activist-inflaming murals painted by folks from that evil southern city of the Fallen Angels. And the shining star of A-Town, the Rotunda…

City Hall

… a wannabe colonial domed and pillared squarish brick city hall structure (reminiscent of an abandoned feminine implant from 20,000 feet up) casting its authoritative gaze on the strangely-named “Sunken Gardens”: our courthouse square minus the courthouse. “Sunken” perhaps refers to the meaning of atascadero in Spanish: a place where one gets stuck in the mud, a kind of hell hole. A close friend’s husband, born and raised in Puerto Rico, told me that when he was a kid, his mom would yell at him to clean his room ‘cause it was an “ATASCADERO!”

Heck, even Oprah’s been here!

Atascadero has too strip malls, too many Starbucks, too many stoplights, and nine too many exits off the 101. Just another California town basking in the warm fall sunshine. Lord, please bring us some rain sometime soon! Which is why we couldn’t come back to God’s Country without bearing special gifts gleaned from our 2-1/2 year tango-crawl through the wilderness of the civilized world.

the newly reborn Carlton Café

a room at the Carlton… up above the bakery!

How much time could YOU fritter away lounging in a great café in a great city like New York, Paris, Buenos Aires, Barcelona?

Café Tortoni, Buenos Aires

So how ‘bout we don’t call it frittering. Call it a waste of time if you will, but a QUALITY waste of time (oink oink KPIG). How many hours could YOU spend sitting around drinking a velvety latte or a structurally perfect macchiato? I sure can… and I don’t know where the time goes but it does keep going…have you noticed time passes on the left? ‘Cause it’s always going faster than we are. And left is the evil side: “a sinistra” (to the left). When Dante descends into hell, his path winds down to the left. Counterclockwise. Got it?

hmmm… did we take the wrong turn?

Picture yourself sitting in a nice comfy chair in a cool, beautiful wabisabi space… quality time, chill time. Time to think, to dream, to get inspired; to power thru your daily in-box, google this’n’that, check your FAQs, consult your horrorscope… fire off a few nasty grams to the big cheese… wait a sec… don’t toss your luck to the winds and ruin your forecast! Breathe, do some yogalates, take time to visit with a good friend, take your mom out to lunch, celebrate your cumpleaños in a great café… dancing tango, of course.

Confiteria Ideal

So, you may be wondering, where IS she running off to now with this late night verbal soirée? Just explaining to y’all why we HAD to bring a little taste of café-culture home with us, in the form of delicious artisan breads and pastries, high-octane coffee, and a beautiful wabisabi space for dancing tango!

Salsa break at La Milonga del Carlton

The tall relentless guy in my world just HAD to open his own bakery, so he could bake the bread and bring home the bacon. A place to wine and dine friends ‘cause he loves to feed hungry hordes.

Courtney’s Chocolate Bread

still life with 5-grain loaf, cheese & olives

And a place where he and his buddies could stand around and spin lies, surrounded by lots of dough, solving the world’s problems over and over again, day after day. Luckily those problems never get solved (you’ve noticed that, too?)… so they rework possible outcomes, endlessly reposition themselves… when people consume caffeine they can talk all day long!

boy can they talk!

Besides, we were drinking so much coffee out, one day he did the math and decided it would be cheaper to open our own café! Now he’s wondering about that math… duh!

2+2=22?

Must be the faulty DNA we all share. Didn’t those wiser-than-us extraterrestrials toss all the rejects on our planet? Where did YOU think politicians came from?

Ho ho ho

If you think too much and too frequently, like yours truly, you really NEED to dance, and you particularly NEED to dance tango. Tango dancers DANCE through our ups and downs, our romances, our breakups, our broken hearts, broke-down cars, our fallen soufflés, disinflated egos…

when in doubt keep dancing

Just in case you’re already thinking about those New Year’s Resolutions, let’s review the guiding principles of Tango:

1) you keep doing it
2) every time you do it you feel happy
3) it turns your life upside down but you don’t care!

Pati & Willow at La Milonga del Carlton

Stop by the café, get comfy, relax, have a lovely mocha or macchiato, bite into a flaky crunchy croissant, a berry twist, toasted 5-grain bread with butter and jam.

Watch yourself go from pathetically morose and incommunicative to chatty and sociable! Instantly reenergized and ready to take on the world! What are you waiting for?

¡Felíz Navidad!

Portland Tango Scene plus… Milonga Tips, Codes, and Advice for Newbie Dancers in BAires

2013/06/17 by Willow Running Hawk

If you dance tango in the U.S., sooner or later you’re going to gravitate to Portland, like a small planet unexplicably attracted to Saturn or Jupiter… a pull that can cause a small planet like Earth to… flip its axis! A Tango mecca like Portland exerts an influence on everything in its gravitational field. Where else besides Buenos Aires or Paris can you hear a musician playing Piazzolla on the street corner?

So what’s there to do in Portland? Like, Tango every night!

birthday dance at Norse Hall

The Portland Tango scene is really awesome. Partly because the music is traditional (but I miss those Buenos Aires salsa breaks) and also because it’s accessible: no more than 15 minutes to any of the milongas.

Saturday night milonga at Berretín

Did I mention the outstanding DJs spinning classic tango every night of the week? …like tango DJ Joe Leonardo. He also creates retro black and white tango films. (tangosilentfilms.com).

DJ Joe Leonardo & girlfriend Hannah

Monday night you can dance in the dough… next to the vault!

Fort Knox North

in the old U.S. Treasury building downtown

The Treasury Milonga replaces the PPPA milonga, which was at a really cool location on the east side of the river. Kinda wabi-sabi, ¿qué no?

Tuesday nights there’s a brand new, fabulosíssima milonga at the Bossanova Ballroom.

Bossanova Ballroom

Wednesday nights are for all you Alternative fans…

they just call it Wednesday Tango!

What I just don’t get about alternative tango is, how can you call it Tango if it’s not TANGO music? Is Tango a dance, or is it a genre of music? Can you separate the two? We went to check out the Wednesday milonga, and when I asked if the music was alternative, aka Nuevo, the doorman told me “it’s so far alternative it’s not even tango.” Wow! For an interesting discussion on traditional vs. nuevo, see The Rise and Fall of Tango Milonguero Style at tangovoice.wordpress.com. But we are so far from Buenos Aires, and so close to……. the Dark Kingdom.

beautiful Portland evening

Thursday nights at Norse Hall are unforgettable… what a great milonga!

Norse Hall

cortina at Norse Hall… who is that guy?

Let’s see, where was I… Friday nights is La Milonga Felíz Alternative.

Oops! that’s not it!

I wish we were in BAires at Café Vinilo!

I wish we were in BAires at La Milonga de Vinilo!

Saturday nights is Milonga “aime comme moi” at Tango Berretín. Alex Krebs’ place, ¡buena música, buenos bailarines, buena onda! (Spanish lessons on the house.)

De vez en cuando toca el quinteto de Alex: (sometimes Alex’s quintet plays):

with guest artists in this case

Sunday evenings you can tango at Lenora’s Ballroom: beautiful space, friendly atmosphere, and all the traditional tango you need to get your endorphin fix for the night and all your mental faculties gratuitously upgraded and ready to face the work week.

urban chic tango venue

“Tango invites you to become the protagonist of an ongoing story, which is danced with another through a mutual improvisation that depends on a deep, body-to-body communication, an entwinement of the spirit and the limbs. When you dance it, if you want to dance it well, you immediately understand that it is perhaps the only dance that requires the equal participation of both dancers in order to be fluid. Thus its difficulty, complexity and sensuality…. Tango anyone?” [Velleda C. Ceccioli, Psychology Tomorrow, May 2013].

a good connection is essential…

A foto-cortina from a visit to the Peninsula (SF Bay Area). I know most of my readers will recognize Ben, el Rey de la Milonga, and tango teacher Igor Polk:

having’ fun!

girls making' friends while the guys dance! go figure!

Cecilia & Willow making’ friends while the guys dance!

OK, and finally, coming straight to you from my spies in Buenos Aires:

Advice for newbie dancers heading to BAires: milonga tips, codes, and what you need to know to get dances!

milonga at Aires Tangueros, Rivadavia 1392

An Anonymous Tanguera speaks:

The reason guidebooks and friends contradict each other is that there is no way to answer your questions. Where would men be more likely to ask a stranger to dance? What kind of stranger? There are so many factors that affect whether you will get asked: your appearance, your height, your level of dance, the confidence you project, the warmth you project, your style of dress… and so on. I go to two or three milongas a week, and at any one of them I might dance nonstop or I might never leave my seat. I’m the same person each time, but there may be fewer men I know one week… or maybe I’m projecting a different energy.

milongueras de BAires

Where do men who dance well go to dance? Maybe the men you consider good dancers are not the ones I would consider good. My friends don’t necessarily like the same leaders I do… we all have a different connection. In any case, it is not true that the afternoon milongas attract better dancers. I can’t think of an afternoon milonga that has a level of dance that matches some of the better night milongas. That said, I dance with some great leaders at afternoon milongas. It is sooo variable.

matinee milonga at La Ideal

Anyway, as a 35-year-old woman, especially if you are attractive and look younger than your age, you will get asked to dance often. Unless the day you go there happens to be dozens of other young, beautiful women… many of whom are already known by the men. That happens. The best thing to do if things look hopeless is to go to another milonga.

Milonga Viejo Correo

My best advice would be to not stress about it. You will get to dance. You will have a good time. You will be here for long enough to find your own favorites. Some little milongas del barrio are much more fun than the famous ones that all the tourists go to. I mean, I wouldn’t go to Niño Bien with a gun to my head!

I need to understand what style of dance you’re looking for. You mention “milonguero salon style,” which is really confusing. Milongas here are increasingly breaking down by age/style — unfortunate, but a reality. The young milongas are almost exclusively salon style… a more open embrace with more elaborate movements and adornments. Milonguero style is quite the opposite… very close embrace, with teeny movements (back crosses instead of ochos with pivot, for example) and almost no decorations. Since you said you liked Canning, I suspect you are looking for close embrace, but not true milonguero style.

A friend of mine likes a couple of young, salon style places… Villa Malcolm and Milonga 10. If you don’t usually dance salon, you may find them a bit intimidating (not knowing anyone and facing a lot of stunning 20-year-olds). As he says, La Viruta is good only very late… and yes, the good dancers all dance with each other.

good friends at Sunderland

An Anonymous Tanguero speaks:

I think that the key is to understand and respect the codes. If I see a woman who stands up after a cabeceo and looks for the man, I just don’t invite her: beginner and super banned.

If, when the tanda finishes, she stays talking with somebody on the dance floor, banned, too easy and I don’t want milongueras to think that I am fishing.

los Reyes del Tango en la Viruta

I also suggest you study the dance floor. It’s easy to see who is who. If nobody knows you, nobody wants to take the risk. If the milongueros see you dancing with somebody they respect, they are going to invite you.

milongueras de la Viruta

If you don’t want a coffee invitation, go home early. At El Beso, after 1:30 nobody dances if there is nothing after, because then is when they invite, they expect to be invited.

El Beso – I love the walls!

Basic but important, don’t dance more than 2 tandas in one night with anybody. Since I have a family I prefer to dance only one tanda per night so there are no misunderstandings.

no misunderstandings here!

You sit with women, and if a man invites himself to sit down next to you, look at him as if he’s raping his own mother. In other words, give him a dirty look and DON’T DANCE WITH THE PENDEJO!

who, me?

We have two reasons for inviting a new girl to dance: she is an outstanding dancer or she is super cute.

super cute!

La Viruta is more a place to hang out with friends, to continue dancing with people you know after other milongas close, or to look for a hook-up. If you are only interested in tango, it is best to enter when the entrance is waived between 2h30 and 3h30, since before you also have tandas of rock and salsa. At La Viruta, men typically do not cabeceo, but walk around and ask women to dance. The guys that ask women to dance are typically not the ones hanging out with friends, so you have to judge if they are the kind that looks for a hook-up, and if you want to dance with them. It is normal to say “no, gracias” if you are not interested. Don’t go to La Viruta on Thursdays, there are no tandas. And never dance after 5:30. The lights are off for a couple of seconds just before la Cumparsita.

Orquesta El Afronte en la Maldita Milonga, Perú 571

Tango is the same all over the world but dancing in Buenos Aires is different from anywhere else you have ever been.

Teatro Colón

house band at Café Vinilo, Gorriti 3780

Be friendly, smile, try not to dance with the vultures, be open to new experiences, have fun and leave plenty of room in your suitcase for shoes! You are going to have a great time!

el Obelisco en la Av. 9 de Julio

Ciao from Portland!

And for my political commentary of the week, please take note:

Costa Brava to East Coast

2013/04/25 by Willow Running Hawk

Preview: Atlantic sunrise

Opening this post with no dazzling first line was not really what I had in mind. Somebody please just toss a poetic blast of bombast at my beleaguered brain! Say what? Can you repeat that? No matter, let’s just get down to the biz of catching up on our whereabouts since we left Barcelona last August. People keep asking me, where are you guys? Well, right now we’re in Portland, Oregon. And, sad to say, many long miles from the beautiful Costa Brava, España. Here’s where we were in August 2012: along the coast north of Barcelona, known as the Costa Brava. We rented a car and went exploring.

Big Sur’s got nothin’ on the Costa Brava!

Many years ago I asked one of my uncles, in Italy, how they manage to keep Italy so clean, green and well-tended. “We toss all our trash into the Mediterranean!” he replied with head-tossing laughter!

a noisy little cove... check out the boats!

no trash in sight… just lots of gorgeous scenery!

Not trashy here on the Costa Brava, and only 116 km south of the South of France. Check it out! This beach borders the historic town of Sant Feliu de Guixols. I have no idea who that happy saint was, it’s Catalan to me.

Sunday afternoon at the beach – Renoir could have painted this

Sant Feliu has an awesome museum, the Espai Carmen Thyssen, founded by the late Baron Hans Henrik von Thyssen-Bornemisza (1921-2002), a wealthy Swiss-German industrialist art collector with an ancestral Hungarian title and a villa in Montecarlo. The museum is named for von Thyssen’s fifth wife, Carmen “Tita” Cervera, a former Miss Spain, whose art-loving instincts played a key role in bringing her husband’s valuable collection of nineteenth century Andalusian and Catalan art to Spain.

The museum entrance is on the right. Behind the arch is the 10th century Roman monastery, built over the ruins of an old castle which saw plenty of action back in the day. Apparently the monks were occasionally called upon to drop their rosaries and defend their turf from marauding turks, moors and other riffraff, with arrows shot from narrow openings in the high walls.

Carmen Thyssen Museum on right

Benedictine monastery, rebuilt in 1723

Ben at the Arc de Sant Benet (1747)

Quite the jetsetting playboy, Baron Thyssen once famously explained his surname: «Bornemisza significa que no bebe vino, y yo más bien debería decir que no bebo agua». (“Bornemisza means “doesn’t drink wine,” but in my case “doesn’t drink water” would be more apt.”) The Baron also has museums in Málaga and Madrid. In the 1980s he created a foundation to prevent his fabulous collection being dismantled and sold off to private collectors. My mom, a retired art critic, reminded me that she interviewed Baron von Thyssen when he visited the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, accompanying an exhibition of his personal collection.

PR for the fabulous inaugural exhibit at the Espai Carmen Thyssen. What a gorgeous day, and filled with spectacular art. The above painting made me nostalgic for our time in Paris: it rained so much last spring.

The Baroness Carmen Thyssen said of Sant Feliu: “…her dazzling beauty and joyful people I found captivating from the first.”

Sant Feliu aerial shot

Adios, España! In late August we flew from Barcelona back to Paris and on to San Francisco. After visiting family and friends in California we took a month-long break in beautiful South Carolina.

Charleston SC

From Charleston — where I could stay forever — we drove south to Murrell’s Inlet for a vacation from the vacation! A restorative, off-schedule downtime of surf, sun, sleep & fresh seafood prepared by Chef Ben.

late afternoon on the inter-coastal waterway

Avendaw Creek

Ben caught a big fish.

we kayaked

we spotted a dockside watering hole.

a working fishing boat

Art on the docks

tidal marsh

even a pirate ship!

ciao! from South Carolina

we head off into the sunset

South Carolina was wonderful last september, with its sizzling beachfront and dripping wet hot humid weather… I loved it! But eventually it was time to move on…

we spent a few days in the Great Smoky Mountains

we tango’d near the Capitol Dome

We milonga’d in DC one night before heading to New York state. It was a warm and beautiful night in DC, and really cool to be dancing in Freedom Plaza, with the words of Martin Luther King Jr. engraved on the stones beneath our feet. The next day we drove through northeastern Pennsylvania over into New York, and then more or less followed the Hudson River Valley north, bypassing New York City, Connecticut, and Massachusetts.

Freedom Plaza – Capital Tangueros

the old homestead in PA

Wayne Hotel, Honesdale, PA

upstate New York

Albany

grazing appaloosa in the Green Mountains, Vermont

falls near Rochester VT

Red Barn

Sandy’s Books and Bakery in Rochester VT– where old hippies munch good munchies

The frenetic grease-dripping fast food twilight zone of a cross-country road trip finally came to a standstill when we took up lodgings in Montpelier, Northeast Kingdom, Vermont. Time slowed to a crawl. We woke up to shorter days, longer nights, cafés and restaurants shutting down so early — and this is the state capital! (pop. 8,000) People actually watch TV and play board games in the evenings. Not to be left out of all the fun, we picked a free tv (the formerly glorious, heavyweight color tv, so impressive back in 1965!) and signed up for cable… like hooking up a one-way IV sucking down your bank account. That lasted a couple of months till we went back to watching news and soccer matches online.

Vermont was picture-postcard pretty! Ben started artisan bread-making classes at the New England Culinary Institute. We found a 3rd floor apartment in a 100+ year old house downtown. Pretty comfy, though we only had a bed, a kitchen table, 2 chairs and some cardboard boxes. When we arrived in October the leaves were turning and the days were still pretty nice, not really too cold yet, the nights just barely dipping into the 40s.

view of the Montpelier Capital Dome and clock tower from our apartment

Ben enjoyed his breadmaking classes at NECI, though the expectation level was decidedly a few rungs below his experience at the French Culinary in Manhattan a few years back, where highly paid world class egomaniacs belittled & berated their students’ efforts… turning out some highly trained professionals nonetheless. A little constructive criticism can be a useful part of the learning process… ouch! Every day was a blast for Ben; he even enjoyed trudging through the snow to be at the bakery at 6:00 am. He was lightyears beyond most of the students… mostly mouth-breathers, you know, adolescents with perpetually hanging lower lips. When he had extra time (he’s fast) the chefs let him do his own thing, and he made the most of it: croissants, pan au chocolat, marzipan pastries, escargot, stollen, panettone… you name it. Lots of yummy stuff… not to mention a million varieties of artisan breads, made the traditional way. Like, the way they make it in Paris. Voilá!

La Brioche, the NECI bakery

Ben cooking at home

Yeah, he loves to cook and the kitchen always looks like a tornado’s touched down, but it’s worth it. Delicious! Notice the way cool 1950s electric stove? The oven window looks like a porthole on a spaceship. My spaceship!

a vintage classic

The door on the left is a warming oven, and the rear left burner is a deep well with a built-in soup pot. Crazy! Some nut will pay big bucks for it on eBay someday!

Speaking of tornados, we were in Vermont when Hurricane Sandy tore up New York and New Jersey.

Hurricane Sandy NYC

She was just a breath of whispering wind by the time she reached northern Vermont — lucky us.

beautiful St. Anne’s was right next door

Fall colors in Montpelier… flaming red, orange and gold. There were still a few warm days but not for long… the days got shorter and colder, and there wasn’t a heck of a lot to do after dark. Burlington had a small tango community, but their milongas were not what we were used to — sorry, friends! Although we did have a fabulous evening at the Palais de Glace Holiday Milonga, in Stowe, and a New Year’s Eve Milonga with live music (and a hysterically funny skit!) in Hartford, Connecticut.

he’s gotta quit flirting with the waitress… or there’ll be hell to pay!

Happy New Years’ Eve!

Three months in a deep freeze was a little much for me… I’m a California girl! Snow is exquisitely lovely, of course. Making cut-paper snowflakes is my idea of a good time in the snow. Furnishing our apartment was kind of fun, though. We found this really awesome blue ultrasuede chair at an estate sale:

with lime green piping… and a matching couch

Getting it up to the apartment was a challenge

nothing like a few bored neighbors to lend a hand!

nothing like friendly neighbors to lend a hand

Needless to say, the winding steep and narrow stairs up to our spacious atelier in Montpelier would not admit the couch, nor the bed. Lucky for us when we moved out three months later the new tenant took it all. I kept picturing how much fun it would be, rappeling all that furniture back down in the snow.

fast forward to snowy night on our street

Montpelier West Branch

Beautiful Montpelier Round Porch and Tower

Before long our world became an exercise in whiteout conditions, arctic blasts, ice showers and icicles, frozen cars, frozen streets, sidewalks and noses; woolen mittens and lost kittens, gloves, scarves, wool caps, snow boots, layers upon layers of the warmest stuff you got… fleecy jammies and bathrobes (or my version: just drag the blanket around the house with you), down jackets… and don’t forget sheepskin booties for indoors. Snowy winter holidays prevailed. But before all that white stuff covered everything, we took a weekend trip in Maine, including a stop at L.L.Beanville.

battling moose at LL Bean world headquarters

Maine coast

New England Saltbox

boats in dry dock: Wicked Good is no secret; La Galatea, Cervantes’ first novel (1585)

having dinner in Bath, Maine

Home of the Lobster Roll

Maine harbor

cold mountain, New Hampshire

Brrr! Those were cold days.

icicles in Montpelier

downtown Montpelier

my son and grandson hiking

the old stone tower

the sled run

view from the tower

tall snowy trees

our building on a snowy evening in Montpelier

a snowy evening in Montpelier: our apartment top floor

Christmas in Montpelier

We left Vermont in mid-January, driving across the frigid Midwest. Mile upon mile of frozen highway: bleak, cold, heartless. Miraculously, we only met one snow storm, near Buffalo, NY. It lasted less than two hours. I parked us in the draft of a big semi and hung onto his coattails till the storm eased up. We kept to the northern route: Buffalo, Chicago, Omaha, Cheyenne, Boise… all the way to Portland. One evening we found a great little milonga in Lincoln, Nebraska… what a pleasant surprise! The Milonguero Spirit appearing in a place previously disguised as Nowheresville! No wonder… the home of the Univ. of Nebraska Press. Publishers of books and journals specializing in American history, the American West, and Native American studies. (Lewis & Clark fans, take note!) Our next destination: Portland, Oregon. Stay tuned!

Next stop: Portland

¡Felíz Año Nuevo! 2012 in Review

2012/12/31 by Willow Running Hawk

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 8,000 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 13 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Barcelona III: Milongas and Prime Directives

2012/12/11 by Willow Running Hawk

Are you ready to tune into a new channel? You could call it the Universal Channel (no, not Universal Pictures; not the Disney Channel, either). Let’s call it the CLC: Cosmic Light Channel. Ready to tune in and have your DNA synced? Ready to get rebooted by the galactic synchronizer? I keep hearing from every twinkle twinkle little star, saying that our bodies are gonna be receiving electromagnetic pulses from the CLC which will greatly accelerate our own personal evolutionary journeys! Not a roller-coaster ride, please! Just a gentle ZAP! from the cosmic mother board, like the little slap on the bottom babies get after leaving the tranquil maternal seas.

Spock

A lot of that grey matter which most of us have never used to capacity (Hey! speak for yourself!) may finally be put to work! And not just for ourselves, but for the benefit of all humankind. They say we should NOT go online, not watch TV, not travel, not use electronic devices (you gotta be kidding! ya mean, wean ourselves from the mother boobie?) during our “stimulus package” makeovers to avoid a quantum leap out of the cosmic jamba juicer into the proverbial (uh-oh!) frying pan! Not good! Steer clear of the Dark Side! No burnt side with my jumbo meal today, thanks! Definitely gotta cut back to fruits and veggies, nuts and spuds, during your cosmic tune-up and chakra alignment! I mean, you wouldn’t pour Karo syrup into your gas tank before a major road trip, would you?

So, what should you do during your universal involuntary Solstice Synchronizing weekend? Well, food, sex and tango is always recommended… um, what else is there? More endorphins, please! Some serious prayer and meditation is always good idea, of course, with a little cosmic-chip wafer and wine. A scoop of Cherry Garcia in your smoothie will give you a better chance of chatting with you-know-who on the other side. Dark glasses to avoid being blinded by the Light. And don’t leave out the Xocolate!

Well kids, If we’re going to be the heros and heroines of a universal paradigm shift, let’s do it with style and class: Enzo Ferrari all the way! Max out your carbon-cylinder footprint! Be the protagonist of your own story, not the silent witness! If you decide to hibernate (highly recommended by non-tango dancer friends), stay at home, read, fix a fruit salad, bake your own bread, play with your kids, be creative! Make your own post-apocalypso holiday greeting cards, write a story and read it to your cat or dog (your cat will just fall asleep; your dog may provide helpful critical feedback).

So, just to be on the safe side, keep in mind these universal mandates:

Resistance is futile (the Borg)
Mutate now, avoid the rush! (Katie & Renie)
Resist much, obey little (Edward Abbey)
If you don’t like the news, go out and make some of your own! (Cosmic Muffin)

and these other guiding principles of La Vida Tanguera:

1) keep doing it
2) every time you do it you feel happy
3) it turns your life upside down but you don’t care.

La Yumba… our favorite Barcelona milonga!!

before the crowds

All the flavor of a real authentic Buenos Aires milonga!

delicious dance floor!

We also like the Acuarilonga: an open air milonga a few steps from the aquarium, in the harbor right next to the Mare Magnum, surrounded by water with a bridge that connects to terraferma.

Sorry, I forget the name of this next milonga! Only a few blocks from our Eixample neighborhood, near Carrer d’Árago x Calabria. PR for milongas, prácticas, tango classes and workshops is spread out on the pool table. Nice bar, nice floor, nice vibe! Now, if we can just find it again… that would be nice!

possibly, La Milonga del Café

Catalans really like to play with words. There are 9 million Catalan speakers in Spain — no wonder they want their own borders — I don’t know how that would affect their economy; the way things are now, it could hardly be worse. But I’m no economist, so don’t string me up! I mean, I still use my fingers to count, ok? (All those years teaching kindergarten…) But the wonderful Catalan way with words leads to all these delightful milonga names, such as la Acuarilonga, la Milongallega (a gallego is someone of Spanish descent); la Gratalonga (a beautiful time); a milonga on the fringes of town: la Arrabalera; a milonga with a well-polished dance floor: la Bien Pulenta. How fun is that? Another night we stumbled onto a really cool milonga with live music in a tiny club. The sound was pretty decent, dance floor not bad, nice lighting, good dancers… check it out!

Milonga Bellos Aires

We went to an evening concert at Teatro Grec, an outdoor amphitheater up on the hill called Montjuic (monte de los Judíos), site of a Jewish cemetery dating to the Middle Ages, now a park and home to the Barcelona Olympic Stadium and numerous museums and event centers. Are you ready to recite the Barcy museum litany? : there’s the MNAC (Museu Nacional d’Arte de Catalunya), the MACBA (Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona), the CCCB (Centro de Cultura Contemporánia de Barcelona), el Museu Picasso, la Fundación Joan Miró, la Fundación Antoni Tapíes, el Museu de la Historia de la Ciudad de Barcelona, el Museu Maritimo, and of course, la Pedrera, one of Gaudí’s many masterpieces. There’s lots more museums and galleries, but ¡ya basta!

Dalí: the original iconic Art hipster

If you’re serious about Art, besides learning all the acronyms, reciting the litany, and looking the part (see above), you’ve got to get a museum pass, the Articket Barcelona.

It costs €30, saves you a ton of plata and no more waiting in lines. Pre-concert to-do list: kick back, have a drink, and watch the Barcy sky fade to indigo blue.

Teatro Grec

Tango en vivo! Juan José Mosalini, in center with white hair and sensational bandoneon, in the midst of his superb orchestra.

Orquesta Juan José Mosalini

Nothing like the earthy atmosphere of ancient rock-quarry walls ceilinged with stars for awesome sound; mix in a few spotlights slowly morphing from blue to purple to red, highlighting the orchestra and the dancers. I was swept away by a sense of timelessness: what a fabulous evening!

dancers in white

Mosalini had different couples wearing different colors to complement the different Nuevo Tango pieces, including several Piazzola heartbreakers.

dancers in red

dancers in… um… flowers

Recognize this couple?

Sebastian Jimenez y María Inés Bogado……winners of El Mundial, salon style, 2010. We saw them at the Sitges Tango Festival in July.

And how about that Pipa Club? I think we should spend another month in Barcelona just dancing at La Pipa, Plaza Real (ok, Plaça Reial in Catalan)…

we spotted our friend Gato Valdéz here

Who’s the guy next to Aníbal Troilo? Somebody please tell me!

We didn’t see Quarteto Irreal, but you gotta love the poster!

Yet another sizzling hot tango poster, exemplifying this absolutely electrifying Mediterranean port! But that’s not all… what about Barcy’s amazing soccer team?

Yes, I’m a Barcy fan. Can you tell?

Of course, you already know about the Gothic Quarter, el Ravel (next time you listen to Otros Aires’ tune, Rotos en el Ravel, listen to the words… they speak of the multiculturality of this famous and fabulous city, an “encyclopedia of humanity”). And you may recall the sunset Jazz Chill-Out cruise… but there’s more! I have yet to write about world-famous Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí (does the name la Sagrada Familia ring a bell?) and the Costa Brava: the meandering coastline heading north to France, not just vaguely, but very reminiscent of our own Big Sur.

la Costa Brava

Barcy just can’t be summed up in a few words, but let me try: so many hip young people, so much music, art, creativity: such a phenomenal scene! The delicious (and cheap!) tapas, delectable wine, sangria, cava… affordable public transportation (buses, subways, trains), free drinking water and recycling bins on just about every block; protests for Catalan independence every other day; corner cafés, pubs and bistros everywhere, plus the amazing nightlife: the bar scene, the nightclubs, the parties spilling into the streets at all hours… and a waterfront! Barcy reminds me so much of Buenos Aires. How do you spell culture, nightlife, fun times, outgoing, passionate and compassionate people? ¡ESPANYOLES BARCELONA CATALUNYA!

the Maritime Museum

But wait… hold everything! No, you’re not going to the Magic Fountains before looking at some of the world’s most stunning artifacts from early Catalunya. An old Spanish friend of mine, Miguel de Cervantes, always reminds us to educate as we entertain! Besides, where else are you gonna get ideas for next year’s Halloween costume?

La Pelirroja: biblical heroine

winged saints…

meditating monks…

All these lovely artifacts can be found in a beautiful former palace, the MNAC: Museo Nacional d’Arte Catalunya. My favorite Barcy museum, and former palace. (Please note: la Pelirroja is not her real name. Just foolin’ around.)

el Palacio Real on a very pretty day

gorgeous black steed – rider’s head in the clouds?

So if you want to see the Magic Fountains of Montjuic, you must begin at the stunning Plaza España, just down the hill, in the middle of a very busy intersection.

Plaza España by day

looking up towards the MNAC from Plaza España

You climb up the hill, sonambulate around the museum for a few hours until it gets dark, turn yourself around and, wow!! quite the view of Barcelona! In the next photo you can see the Plaza España lit up in the background, between the giant obelisks. The big round building, once a bullring, is now a huge shopping mall.

looking down from up top

Yeah, they get quite a crowd around dusk!

the sound of the water, the lights, the music…

Happy Holidays from Barcelona!!

And don’t for get to have a superlative transformative Solstice!

Over and out from Barcelona!

Paris Retrospective

2012/09/19 by Willow Running Hawk

shock and awe at Deyrolles

One night I dreamt I was still in Paris, at Deyrolles. A fabulous scene was filmed here, in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris. In the dream, Ben and I spent a couple of hours just prowling around upstairs, and more than a few critters seemed to come to life before my eyes!

how do you think we look, dear? deer? aunty antelope?

I felt like I’d taken a step back in time. Perhaps a time warp of the imagination? Deyrolles still sells dessicated butterflies (dead, but still pretty), stuffed birds, and so on and so forth…. the price tag increases exponentially with the size of the dead critter, especially when the number of legs goes from 2 to 4 (with the exception of their insect collection, of course).

Oops! just noticed the grizzly?

Paris reverberates with music and musicians… every summer they have la Fête du la Musique, a big music festival, with free music all over the city, from small neighborhood cafés and clubs to giant concert halls and expo centers. We stumbled on this antique instrument shop one day as we were strolling around aimlessly… one of the best ways to see Paris.

old musical instruments for sale

are those lyres beside the harps?

Walking around Paris you find stuff you never dreamed of… like the best chocolatiers in the world.

Cocteau: avant-garde eggs

Unfortunately the average tourist who “does” Paris in a 3-day hypertour only gets off the double decker tour bus to file into the Louvre to see la Gioconda, and is too exhausted at the end of the day to relax and mingle with locals. Here are a few pix (hard to choose!) of some splendid creations:

Apricot pistachio tart…. yum

the essential baguette, fit for palace or attic alike

Ben, the aspiring baker, comments that the ONLY reason bakeries open (for a few hours) on Sundays is because people have to have fresh baguettes every day!

Salvador Dalí, well-known Spanish baguette lover and surrealist, did a fine series of illustrations for Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll’s fantastical story about a girl who wandered into a stranger than strange land. We saw the exhibit at the Espace Dalí in Montmarte. Dalí’s ink drawings are amazingly delicate: such loving, precise and precious details… perhaps intended for a particular child, as was the book. Of course, Alice in Wonderland IS a children’s book… for the imaginative child in all of us.

white rabbit

Dalí knew that even Angels need a little extra support sometimes.

even Angels have rough days…

Salvador Dalí circa 1940

And since this is a retrospective with some of my favorite Paris photos, here’s Adam giving God a drag in Montmartre:

maybe this explains why so many Parisians smoke

Angels on both sides of the Atlantic

The above angel is from Recoleta, in Buenos Aires. Our own Mackinze is perhaps a less worldly Angel, but she sparkles even brighter than the crystal chandeliers of Versailles!

“she doth teach the torches to burn bright!” (Will Shakespeare)

Speaking of worldly, unworldly, otherworldly… (am I missing anything here?) in Paris I noticed that, despite the monstrosities you see in Vogue or on the fashion page, what women REALLY wear is what you see in the shop windows on the Champs Elysées.

I’d wear it too if I had the bucks!!

But la femme does not live by frock alone; we must accessorize!

Spanish fans are wearable Art. Vale?

This amazing fan shop is right across from the Museo de la Historia de Barcelona, Plaça del Rey. (Please excuse the Barcelona photos, I couldn’t resist!) Needless to say, I bought several, even some teeny tiny ones!

this is only one wall…

One cannot recall Paris, retrospectively or otherwise, without seeing the Louvre again. It’s huge, stunning, imposing… even intimidating. Imagine being a peasant from the 18th century, seeing the city for the first time! A LIFE-CHANGING EVENT!! Even if you’re a 21st century worker-drone!

the Louvre from across the Seine

nice front door… yeah

my favorite street artist, Miss.Tic

My favorite Starbucks, so Parisian!

on the Champs Elysées

How about my favorite guy in the universe?

traveling tanguero, takin’ it to the water

Here he is at Sunderland Club.

who’s the babe?

COMING SOON: my long-awaited post on the Sitges Tango Festival!

Ciao from North America!

Last Days in Buenos Aires… sob!

2012/05/18 by Willow Running Hawk

Fall in Buenos Aires arrived with a vengeance! Before that we had lovely days, and delightfully warm nights. You’d leave a milonga at 3 am, and didn’t need a jacket or sweater. Then, all of a sudden, the temperature dropped into the 60s, dipping into the 40s at night, and that cold wind!!

San Telmo, photo by BuenosAires4U.com

Trees along the streets are turning yellow; leaves are falling, their colors blending with the assorted trash and grunge of the streets. I took one last shot of the Palacio de los Patos, the view from our apartment.

a parting shot…snif!

People walk by bundled up, with the omnipresent neck scarf and winter coat or jacket. Women have traded in their summer flats and sandals for ankle boots, riding boots, sexy lace-up booties, not to mention faux fur animal print boots! Cold weather seems to bring out the female feline.

on the prowl…

Alas, it’s time to leave our favorite city, time to head north to check in with family and friends. I’m fixin’ to hold my precious first grandbaby! Tagging along with the anticipation and delight of a wee bundle of joy, we tango every night till 3 or 4. What’s to stop us? I almost missed my 11:30 yoga class… so hard to get up in the mornings. I feel like a spoiled girl! Hmm… I guess I am a spoiled girl! Speaking of children, here’s my sweet baby Teo. See that reddish hair! Yes, there is some Irish blood in the family. Just have a look at our wee leprechaun!

my son Ode & baby Teo

I made a list of my New Year’s resolutions; I know I’m getting them in late; is that like bouncing a check? Or forgetting to file? Seriously, though, the New Year has brought us feelings of accomplishment, that is to say, progress in tango. Ben says he’s keeping his resolutions to himself… (should I be worried?) but I don’t mind sharing what I’m working on. After all, who doesn’t go through the same stages, more or less: the same fumbling bumbling beginner’s hell? (for a silly primer on the plight of the beginning dancer, go to <centralcoasttango.org> and click on Tango Hell.) Here’s a preview of my resolutions:

Posture, balance, embrace, walking… and you thought walking was just putting one foor in front of the other? Think again! My goal right now… ONE of my goals… is to keep it simple, focus on my foot to floor connection, and dance with my partner, not with myself!! Sublimate your expression, dance HIS interpretation of the music… and when he pauses to let you play, you can renegotiate the contract for a few moments. This brings the yin and yang energies into balance… ¿qué sí? qué no?

Along with my resolutions, here’s some photos of the last days. We accidentally met some traveling dogsledding skiing tangoing Alaskans!

new friends Jane & Peter in San Telmo

That same day in San Telmo Ben captured this shot of our friend El Indio dancing at his Sunday milonga in Plaza Dorrego:

El Indio & friend

And we also chanced to see Orquesta Típica el Afronte, playing on the sidewalk near the Plaza Dorrego Sunday Fair. These guys rock the house on Wednesday nights at Maldita Milonga, 571 Perú, in San Telmo. We’ve seen them many times and they are fab!

Orquesta Típica El Afronte

We had a relaxing day in San Telmo, spending time with good friends and gorgeous Buenos Aires fall weather.

Ben & me

If you’re young, dance tango, plan to visit Buenos Aires, and like to mix it up with all colors and flavors of other young travelers, then we may have found the best cheap hotel for you:

Hostel San Telmo

Our last days in Buenos Aires we tango’d all over town with our best friends. We had our best-ever privates with our dear friend Marcela Hourquebie. Marcela took us light-years beyond the usual private classes, losing ourselves and then finding ourselves again, transforming our way of being, of dancing, of thinking, of processing, of leading and following. I even learned to be on my own axis 100% of the time (unless he takes me off my axis, of course). Yes, I know I’m the poster child; finally, after almost 10 years of dancing tango, I manage to stay on my axis? About time, girl!

best friends!

Towards the end of our stay we experienced the deepest work. Our brains were de-fragged, our internal processors upgraded, and of course it all carries over into your relationship. When your dance partner is your life partner, you reach some deep practice. Your relationship is stripped to the core and then rebuilt, remodeled, like having your piano brought up to A440, or trying out a new bit on your horse, your hands softer now and your horse more responsive. Always working towards a deeper harmony. Your embrace is fine-tuned, adjusted. It’s fluid, mobile, re-negotiated daily. Taking a step will never again be just another step! If you were the house-mouse living on a touchscreen floor, what would the trail of your steps look like… points of pressure with only faint traces in between? Even better, visualize a blazing light-trail, revealing a minimum of pressure changes as the free foot moves across the floor? This is really too complex for me to explain! Pooh Bear may need to call on Christopher Robin to assist. Have patience with me, cause trying to explain helps me integrate the new structures into every cell, every molecule. Change means work!

Everything you thought you learned in those first few years of tango classes, workshops, milongas – all the money you spent on lessons, shoes, clothes – you find yourself rediscovering the basics, because you’re standing in a new place now, and everything looks different, feels different. You go back to the basics to relearn it all again. You refine your walk, your posture, your attitude. I still love voleos, sacadas, ganchos… but my focus has moved towards elegance, simplicity, refinement. I’ve quit trying to embellish every other step. I’m making more of an effort to really listen to my partner, to be really connected to him. It’s not easy! But I’m also letting go of judgement. There is no such thing as good tango or bad tango; Tango just IS.

at La Coqueta de Recoleta

More pearls of wisdom from Marcela: Quit chasing the music; let the music come to you, let it come from within, let it fill you, enter you wholly and completely. (No corres detrás de la música; deja que la música te llega a ti, que entra en ti.) This is such an important piece of the puzzle! From the male point of view it has often been said, and nicely I think, “for the man, there is only the music, and the woman.” Female point of view, anybody? For the woman, there is only the music, and the man. Absolutely fundamental, absolutely imprescindible!

be connected in blue

And who could live the true milonguero lifestyle without great friends to drag you all over town to all the best places to eat, drink, and dance?

best friends!

In yet another angle on the HOW TO WALK WITH YOUR FEET ON THE FLOOR theme, let’s focus on the arrastre, which in English means drag and can refer to steps or to the sound of the bandoneon: you slightly drag your toes on the floor… tracing invisible lines, invisible pictures, invisible perfume crossing and recrossing the dance floor, resisting, then giving into the floor, giving in to the music. Your feet should never stop, but move fluidly with equal pressure in mid-step. Your change of weight should be almost imperceptible. Let your feet talk to the floor, caress the floor…. my goal?… to dance like her!

Gracias, Marcela!

Taking Mario Orlando‘s DJ class hasn’t hurt my appreciation for tango, either. Au contraire, mon cher! I think I can honestly say that I carry around in my head the BUENOS AIRES TANGO TOP 400 24/7!! My personal background muzak.

gracias, Mario!

And who wouldn’t gain an infinite amount of floorcraft (and I don’t mean steerage!) after months of classes with Raúl Bravo? Gracias, Raúl!! I hope you’re enjoying your visit to Russia!

Gracias, Maestro!

Can you believe he’s in his 80s? He dances with the skill and energy of a 30 year old, and that’s NOT an exaggeration! Raúl teaches the fancy stuff, the moves, the choreographies, along with the technique that you need to stay on top of your game. Last July, his classes were so advanced, we honestly couldn’t believe he let us stay in the class! Almost everybody there was already a really good dancer or a pro; others dropped in for a refresher from the maestro de maestros, in preparation for the Tango World Cup (alias el Mundial). By the time we left, we were finally feeling worthy enough to take his class — how can I say it differently? Finally worthy… that’s BIG!

Okay, one more Thank you!!! to our Maestro of Milonga (and Milonguero style, and Vals) JORGE FIRPO!

Papito rocks!!

Jorge Firpo and his beautiful sweet wife and tango partner Diana Mestre, have been SO good to us, so patient, so comprensivos, so positive and upbeat 100% of the time!! How do they do it? Who the heck knows? They’ve got a good thing goin’! And as dancers they are soooooo fabulous!! He runs his classes like a drill sergeant with a smile, and she quietly and patiently passes on imprescindible tango technique, embellishments and other secrets to us ladies. They have a huge and loyal following, even on other planets! (cause their star shines that bright!!) not to mention their very own Fan Club, Los Fans de Papito! Ben made Jorge a Deputy Sheriff and even gave him his own badge!

I almost forgot to mention the night Guillermo & Dolores took us to Las Cañitas, a part of Palermo that has a few very cool blocks of pubs and restaurants. The night we went I was cameraless, so I swiped these cool pix off the web:

La Lupita, shrine to Tequila & la Virgencita

’round midnight the best time to go

the bar at La Lupita

she reigns over the bar and all of Mexico too

Get the feeling I like the place?

So the day finally arrived, we had to leave our beloved Buenos Aires. I mean, just for a moment, let yourself feel the angst, the pathos (what is pathos, anyway?). Ben kept reminding me I didn’t need to cry all the way to the airport, as I’ve done the other times. No, I had to be a big girl and stay focused on the future: see my kids, my grandbaby, visit friends and family, then on to Paris.

New Years Resolution No. 1: Let yourself go, be who you are, give your infinite Self up to the moment. Let your interpretation of the music, your passion for the music, flow thru you. Relax, ground, dance WHO you are! Feel more colors, more sensation, more attitude…. accept nothing less than total transformation!

New Years Resolution No. 2: Feel the lead! Listen to his body, listen to your body… Don’t just step… flow! let your feet have a conversation with the floor.

New Years Resolution No. 3: Connectivity! Connect with yourself first. Feel that invisible string pulling you skyward, and then feel the roots that connect your feet to the floor. Through them you ground into the earth. When you feel connected internally and externally, your mind able to focus and not running off in a million different directions, connect to your partner. You should feel the exact moment when you complete the embrace, that live circuit engaged. When the circuit is complete your electro-magnetic field becomes supercharged. Then you connect to the floor, to the room, to the circle of dancers, to the music, the musicians, the DJ. I learned in high school physics that the electrical connection can only flow when all the wires are connected and you are grounded thru the floor. Trying to anticipate the lead breaks the circuit. Crossing your fingers behind your back is cheating!

Flying out of Ezeiza, we had quite a rockin’ and rollin’ ride over the Andes – brown with white patches of snow – and we bounced over more potholes in the sky flying from Lima to San Salvador. I sang quietly to myself calling on the wakinyan, the Thunder Spirits, to bring this frolicking pony back to the barn safe and sound! I sang to the wanbli, the eagles, to fly with us and bring us safe and sound to our journey’s end. My flight mantra: “May the wind under your wings guide you where the moon walks and the sun sails…” (from The Hobbit)

The wanbli brought us back to San Francisco safe and sound. We spent a delightful few days visiting family and the new baby! He’s so adorable! Here I am with Teo and my comadre, Teo’s maternal grandmother.

el nene y las comadres!

We made a quick trip to Portland to look at artisan bakeries (part of the groundwork for Ben’s projected café-bakery-dance hall), visit old friends, and tango. We stopped in San Luis Obispo for a few days to reconnect with close friends: tango base camp. They put on a big throw-down for us! There was great dancing, and the music, food & drink, starry skies & view of the ocean from Val & Mary’s stunning hillside retreat was absolutely awesome!! Many thanks to all!! California milongueros really know how to party!!

Milonga chez Val & Mary

We celebrated Mary’s birthday, and had a sorteo just like the milongas in Buenos Aires, complete with prizes: CDs and other fun items.

Vive la France!

the lucky number is…

and the winner is…

Willow’s Short Version New Year Resolutions 2012:

There is no such thing as good tango or bad tango. TANGO just IS.

Don’t run after the music…. let the music run thru YOU.

RELAX

CONNECT

GROUND

DANCE WHO YOU ARE!

FOLLOW HIM, BUT DON’T CODDLE HIM

STAND UP TALL ON YOUR AXIS

BREATHE

Your GIRO is your signature…. make it your OWN

Don’t just step…. FLOW

FEEL THE LEAD

COLLECT

YOU are a DIAMOND

YOU are an ANGEL, an EAGLE…. DANCE with your WINGS!

Ciao from Buenos Aires!

Next stop: PARIS!

Tango awaits you

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