“Tango is Life.”

What does this sentence mean? It suggests that those that do not tango don’t know what life is. Can such a radical thought make sense?

But ask anyone who is involved in Tango, passionately, which is the only way to be involved in it, and that will be the answer.

This attitude in relation to Tango is rooted in the fact that Tango provides you fulfillment, opening you up to the possibility of making your life a work of Art.

In America (North America), you think of Tango as a dance (always with the prejudice that dance means “performance”, conceived as something done for a spectator), perhaps also as a music genre, but the Spanish speaking population of the world knows that Tango is also words, lyrics, poetry, “chamuyo” (for Argentineans). Words without which you can’t really know what Tango is. Enrique Santos Discépolo, author of many essential tangos, declared that “Tango is a sad thought that is danced”. Every word in this phrase demands explanations that will never exhaust their meaning. What kind of “sad thought” then, is Tango? Looking at the past with the feelings of what went away, and the realization of how little we have left to leave us too.

“Jamás retornarás”

“Cuando dijo adiós, quise llorar…
 Luego sin su amor, quise gritar…
 Todos los ensueños que albergó mi corazón
 (toda mi ilusión),
 cayeron a pedazos.
 Pronto volveré, dijo al partir.
 Loco la esperé… ¡Pobre de mí!
 Y hoy, que tanto tiempo ha transcurrido

sin volver,
 siento que he perdido su querer.
 
 Jamás retornarás…
 lo dice el alma mía,
 y en esta soledad
 te nombro noche y día.
 ¿Por qué, por qué te fuiste de mi lado
 y tan cruel has destrozado
 mi corazón?
 Jamás retornarás…
 lo dice el alma mía
 y, aunque muriendo está,
 te espera sin cesar.
 
 Cuánto le imploré: vuelve, mi amor…
 Cuánto la besé, ¡con qué fervor!
 Algo me decía que jamás iba a volver,
 que el anochecer
 en mi alma se anidaba.
 Pronto volveré, dijo al partir.
 Mucho la esperé… ¡Pobre de mí!
 Y hoy, que al fin comprendo
 la penosa y cruel verdad,
 siento que la vida se me va.”

(When she said goodbye, I wanted to cry …

Then without her love, I wanted to scream …

All the daydreams that housed my heart

(all my illusion),

fell to pieces.

I’ll be back soon, she said as she left.

Madly I waited for her… Poor me!

And today, that so much time has passed without coming back,

I feel that I have lost her love.

You will never return …

my soul says so,

and in this solitude

I call your name night and day.

Why, why did you leave my side

and so cruel have you destroyed

my heart?

You will never return …

my soul says,

and, although it is dying,

it is waiting for you incessantly.

How much I begged her: come back, my love …

How much I kissed her, how fervently!

Something told me that she would never return,

that the nightfall

in my soul was nesting.

I’ll be back soon, she said as she left.

I waited for her a lot … Poor me!

And today, that at last I understand

the painful and cruel truth,

I feel that life is leaving me.)

Osmar Maderna and Miguel Caló, with Raúl Berón singing.

The lyrics are about love, about a broken heart, an unfulfilled promise and unsatisfied hopes. It is also a view of life from the perspective of realizing that life, and everything with it, goes away: “Y hoy, que al fin comprendo / la penosa y cruel verdad, / siento que la vida se me va.” (And today, that at last I understand / the painful and cruel truth, / I feel that life is leaving me.)

Did Osmar Maderna, one of the authors, know that he was destined to die, suddenly, at 32, in an accident? His short life was feverishly productive: a piano virtuoso, a gifted composer, a in-demand arranger, a successful conductor, a great friend, a beloved husband, a passionate amateur aviator… When he left his home, in Pehuajó, a city located 230 miles southwest of Buenos Aires, to start his independent life as a musician in the capital, he ask his brother to tell everyone that he went to buy a bandoneon

How can one not be passionate about Tango?


Tango gives you purpose: to make the world beautiful, starting with yourself, firstly, since you are the most accessible, affordable and appropriated canvas to be the experimental field for you to probe your understanding of beauty before being accepted by others and entitling yourself to go beyond and do anything else with it; and, secondly, you exists in “a world”, populated with meanings that tend to be shaped by prejudices and misinterpretations, by accumulation and overlapping of meanings, gifted, inherited, imposed from others, or simply developed by you to justify some of your kind beliefs, hide your hypocrisies and/or calm your anxieties. In sum, you, the world and the others are inseparable (As seen by Martin Heidegger in “Being and Time”, explained in http://royby.com/philosophy/pages/dasein.html)

That is exactly what is to be a “milonguera” (a woman who regularly dances tango) or “milonguero” (man). We, milongueros, decided to accept to live in a world that reproduces the kind of existence described above, where our life is possible not only by our participation in the economy of our societies, by having a job like anyone else, but beyond this primary satisfaction of our elementary needs, we EXIST in accordance with what is beautiful, with “compás y elegancia” (musicality and aesthetic energy efficiency), shaping every manifestation of our being-in-the-world-with-others according to proportions that are the same that seem, from our human perception, to underlie the universe.

Pythagoras (495 BC), after researching what notes sounded pleasant together, worked out the frequency ratios (or string length ratios with equal tension) and found that they had a particular mathematical relationship. The octave was found to be a 1:2 ratio and what we today call a fifth to be a 2:3 ratio.

All the notes of a musical scale are produced by ratios.

Same as rhythm can be defined by ratios:

Including the rests, essential to dancing Tango:

And the proportions of our bodies.

Proportions are everywhere:

The artist uses this awareness of proportions as a guide to creation.

And now, combine all these proportions with another human, who, being of the same species, is also so different.

One of these differences is that we are sexed.

Being sexed is related to our mortality. We need this duality to preserve our species when we are gone. And when the raw sensations of our sexuality fade away, only the human embrace still satisfies our need for consolation in the face of the abysm of the infinite void of death, lying always ahead.

How fulfilling to learn about our bodies, about our existence in the world, discipline and train ourselves to mine beauty out of the depths of our lives! How exciting to engage in such adventure in the company of that mysterious being that is so familiar and yet such a stranger! A being that calls us like mermaids, with a voice that draws out from our perception all other signs, which will harmonize with that music which in its brave approach, recalls the tragic inevitability of a storm that will take away all our superficial possessions and leave us only with ourselves, longing for an embrace.

In Plato’s “The Symposium”, Aristophanes tells that the human being was, in its origins, a double being, composed of two of what is today a human body. These creatures offended the gods, so they decided to cut them in half. The beings’ first reaction was to embrace each other.

We like to say in Argentina: “el Tango te espera” (Tango is waiting for you). This patient waiting is another manifestation of its call, not a call that awakens our curiosity, like the sounds of our cellphones, always buzzing WhatsApp, Facebook, Instagram and text messages. This is the call of a challenge, that is not easy to respond to, that is not user friendly, that makes you think, that scares you and pushes you away in the same amount of (if we could measure it in some way) the seduction and attractiveness that it poses on you.

Do not worry. It’s great to have that feeling! That means you are alive!

Resourses:

Enrique Santos Discépolo

Urban dictionary

Osmar Maderna

Miguél Caló

Martin Heidegger

Sigmund Freud

Gilles Deleuze

Michel Foucault

Michel Onfray

Jean Baudrillard

Friedrich Nietzsche

Originally published at medium.com