Limerick Tango

In response to Simba and Tangocommunter’s recent posts.

I’ve encountered among contemporary artists an almost consistent fear of structure. “Oh it’s so restrictive” they moan. To me this exposes their misunderstanding of the structures in question. They view structure as a shell that inhibits and restricts their growth, an exoskeketon.

It doesn’t have to be. Structure can be endoskeletal. Supporting you from the inside and affording both flexibility and stability. Well devised structures can include a redundancy that allow you to slip out the odd prop or two when they are not needed. Structure is the giants shoulders that allow us to reach further.

It’s the inability to view structure in this way that prevents musicians from exploring danceable tango. Add to this the restriction that comes from playing in groups that are too small. You’re not going to get the same opportunity to improvise in a trio than you are in a sextet. You are going to be spending too much time being support for your other two musicians to get the feel for improvisation. Now in a group of six if one member wanders off a little it’s less likely to bring the whole thing crashing down.

If you listen closely to some golden age tango recordings you will hear not a group of straight-jacketed musicians but six or so lads that drink, play cards, womanise and perform all night long. What is missing at times from modern recordings is that sense of the camaraderie of working musicians instead of the seriousness of suffering artists.

And finally of course you’re not going to get the same experience playing tango as you are playing jazz because, guess what, it’s not jazz.

There are days that I have and address there that I don’t occupy.

Some times I live there and others I’m just at home.

But none of that is enough. You have to inhabit the music.

You try and get under my skin and I’ll try and get under the orchestras skin.

Don’t worry about what I’m doing.

Worry about what I’m doing does to you.

Limerick Tango, in association with Paris-Tango.co.uk and Tango Essence, is proud to present:

Adrian & Amanda Costa
13th & 14th November

Friday 13th November
Private classes during the day
Workshop 1: 8-9.30pm
Milonga: 9.30-1am
including performance and celebration LimerickTango’s 30th birthday
Saturday 14th November
Workshop 2: 11.30-1pm

Venue: The Best Western Perys Hotel, Glenthworth St, Limerick

Full details on limericktango.com/november

Tango is not ganchos.

When I was in my teens, I loved Henry James. I read him with uncorrupted pleasure. Then, when I was eighteen or so, and had just started The Golden Bowl, someone - older, cleverer, whose opinions were offered gravely - asked me whether I didn’t find James very difficult, as she always did. Until then, I had no idea that I might, and I didn’t. From that moment, I couldn’t read him but self-consciously; from then on I did find him difficult. I do not wish to insult by the comparison , but I had a similar, Jamesian mayonnaise experience. My mother used to make mayonnaise weekly, twice weekly; we children would help. I had no idea it was meant to be difficult, or that it was thought to be a nerve-racking ordeal. Then someone asked how I managed to be so breezy about it, how I stopped it from curdling. From then on, I scarcely made a mayonnaise that didn’t split. It’s not surprising: when confidence is undermined or ruptured, it can be difficult to do the simplest things or take any enjoyment even in trying.

Nigella Lawson, How to eat

Telling someone that tango is difficult doesn’t make it any easier. Worst of all is peoples insistence on telling new leaders that “it’s more diffucult for the man”. I’m not saying that starting tango and taking on the role of leader at the same time is easy, but don’t burden the poor guy with extra baggage when his hands are already full.

Organised by Cork Tango