The Plateau

Revenons a nos moutons. I set out to write about tango, self and possibility and went off at a tangent, as you do, but I have an hour to kill before my vals class, so here goes:

When I first arrived, I felt as if every lesson was taking me forward and this was deeply satisfying. My posture improved and consequently my balance. With the help of my skilful tutors, I started to see my body as an instrument of tango and began to see that it needed to be played in a particular way in order to produce tangoesque movement. I started to work with my breath, as in yoga and martial arts, for smoothness, effortlessness and control of movement. I started to understand the importance of the expansion and contraction of the spaces in my body, for instance between my dorsals, between my ribs and hips and within my shoulder joints. I started to become aware of dancing within my frame. I started to use my palms and fingers as crucial points of connection to lever my movements. I started to acquire a deeper understanding of the lead and the anatomy of tango moves.

Then, I reached a plateau and I felt as if nothing much was changing, that I was no longer feeling excited about my rate of progress. I realised that this was partly down to the state of my body. If tango dancers had to have MOTs, I´d be the one that looked passable on the outside, but that needed its chassis welding, motor tuning and new tyres. I have not been getting up in time to attend yoga classes and this has been a big mistake. Being fit and flexible is a prerequisite of dancing good tango. I also decided it was time to be test-driven by an expert, to have my dance scrutinised for bad habits. So, I booked a short series of private lessons and practicas. The only way is up.