More often than not, I dance no more than 7 or 8 tandas in my 3 hours in milongas in Buenos Aires. I do that partly to conserve my energy for a) the music I really like, and b) the women I really want to dance with. Any single tanda is both physically and mentally taxing, so when I dance I want to put
all the meat on the fire.
So how do I spend the rest of my time in the milonga apart from sipping on my mineral water? I listen to the music and I watch the dancers. Sitting at a table at the edge of the ronda, I feel part of the milonga, even when not dancing. But as I watch, I also learn. Of course, I watch the ladies’ pivots, their embraces, their responses to their partners, in order to guide my ‘cabeceo’ in future tandas. But there is more.
I watch the men – their rhythms, changing dynamics, playfulness, intensity; how they protect their partners, how they move their bodies with their partners; and I note small variations in movements that I regularly employ. I notice how their dancing changes with different orchestras, with the emotion of the singers, with the ‘light and shade’ in a piece of music. Not all men dance this way, but those that do are worth my intense scrutiny.
I often wonder about men, and women, who dance every tanda. Might they be missing an opportunity to observe and learn from others?
My advice: STOP. LISTEN. LOOK. LEARN.
Bob