What does it mean to be a follower?
From a discussion that’s going on right now in New York Tango list — I really liked this. What do you think?
Copy-pasted verbatim:
(Wow, something that’s not an ad for a milonga on this list? amazing.
Perhaps we can see more of that in the future.)Travis posted this here a few days ago:
> In the 12 years or so that I’ve been dancing tango I’ve always been
> knocked over by dancer’s who studied with Gustavo Naveira. Whether I
> was studying with a leader or dancing with a follower I was impressed.
> It seems like the followers dance in a different plane that the rest
> of mere mortals. Starting two years ago I became a student of the
> master myself and have been steadily learning what it means to be an
> “Active Follower”. He speaks about the role of the follower being an
> equal partner. When I dance socially for the most part I do not see
> that with followers. So I ask the community, what do you think it
> means to be a follower? thanksThat’s a bit of a challenge: “My teacher’s way is better than everyone
else’s, and why aren’t you all like that?” I think you’d be more
likely to get a constructive dialog going if you were a little more
oblique. (This is not, of course, a lesson I’ve fully learned myself…)That said, I like active followers, but I have never heard anyone
describe what that means. To me, an active follower is someone who
occasionally decides that she wants to dance the music in a particular
way, and leads her leader to do so. It’s not back-leading, it’s not
forced, it’s true leading. And I can’t imagine how hard it must be for
followers to figure out how to do that without being unpleasant, which
is why I think very few do it well. Certainly it’s not often taught. I
remember when I was taking group classes with Robin Thomas once or
twice he asked followers to practice slowing down leaders at certain
points in the music, and leaders were supposed to follow this lead. I
have dome something similar in my classes a few times. But for a
follower to do more than that, she must be comfortable not only with
the techniques of whatever steps she has to be executing at the time,
but she also has to understand how her leader is leading it, so she
knows when it’s possible to alter the flow of his movement without
breaking it. I suspect that this is in general nearly impossible if
she is not also at least a competent leader herself, and I have never
danced with a good active follower who wasn’t one.There’s another really big challenge facing any follower who wants to
learn to be active. Most leaders don’t know what to do with an active
follower. I know that it’s not uncommon for me to be dancing with a
good active follower and realize just a fraction of a second too late
that I really should have done something else in order to accommodate
her (this comes from my failings as a follower). Dealing with active
followers must be utterly confounding to leaders who aren’t very
familiar with them- which is most leaders. Even, I suspect, most
“good” leaders (and how you judge “good” goes way beyond what I’m
willing to get into here).I do think that an active follower is a more equal partner in the
dance. When I teach about leading and following I try to get my
students to see it as a means of communication. The more active the
follower, the more it becomes like a two-way discussion, and less like
a stream of directions. This means that the follower must speak up
enough to be heard, but not shout: her intention must be conveyed back
to the leader through the embrace, not just executed in her own body,
but she can’t be rigid and forceful (any more than a good leader would
be). On the flip side, the leader must be willing to hear what she’s
saying: he must respond to the change of the embrace the follower is
creating. In other words, he has to follow. We should have a term for
this sort of leader to match “active” following- how about a
“responsive” leader?You said that Gustavo talks about an equal partnership. I have a hard
time imagining a truly equal partnership. Even very active followers
spend the majority of their time following. Perhaps dancers far far
better than me dance in truly “equal” partnership, but I doubt it. I
don’t think I’ve ever seen such a thing. Although perhaps “equal” is
the wrong word, because I don’t think followers have an inferior role.
Rather, I’d say that the leader is the person who creates the majority
of the dance, while the follower executes it, and that both are
equally necessary. (Hm, I seem to have recreated “it takes two to
tango” with a lot more words… oh well.) If the leader didn’t do
that, he’d be following, and his partner would be leading, regardless
of how the embrace was shaped.To directly address your question… a follower does what you lead.
That’s all it takes to be a follower, even a good follower, and I’ve
had some really nice dances with women who do just that. But followers
can add a new dimension to their dance by becoming active.For anyone who is looking to become a better active follower, or a
more responsive leader, my recommendation is that you make a serious
effort to learn the opposite role. It’ll improve all your tango, not
just this aspect of it./a
Tango in the New York Times
“…the New Generation program “Volver al Sur” (“Return to the South”) featured four guest artists: Guillermina Quiroga and Cesar Coelho, and Natalia Hills and Gabriel Misse. Where many others, including the New Generation artistic director and choreographer Dardo Galletto, toy with the tango and dilute it out of recognition, these two couples at once swept the audience into the steps, rhythms, body language and music that are the tango’s essence. And with each appearance — each pair doing four duets during the program — they took on not just new costumes but also new moods, revealing still more of what the tango can be.
“Ms. Quiroga and Mr. Coelho often showed the fluent legato that can make the tango so insidiously seductive. Her manner tended to be refined and enigmatic, whereas his was the brusque assertiveness of the self-made man, and at first this contrast made their partnership exciting. The way she maintained her dignity while her spine arched back in a beautiful display of ardor or while she was being lifted had its beauties. All too soon, though, their over-reliance on showy lifts and catches became tiresome. Not even Ms. Quiroga can look ladylike in a dress when being held overhead with arms and legs spread-eagled and being rotated like helicopter blades…”
(Click image for the article)
Pet peeve
I cannot stand being asked these two most hated questions of the entire universe:
“How are you?”
and
“How was your day?”
I never know what to say. I mean, what can I say?
I just don’t usually prepare constant updated summaries of my feelings and thoughts and moods during the day, but just do and am. Those two questions force me to pause and think about how exactly my day went so far, the combination of how I was during the past several hours — those two seconds of pleasure I felt upon reading that poem, the happiness I felt upon discovering that the roll of pictures came out well, the frustration I felt upon my persistent lack of inspiration to dance, the anger I felt about my brother’s a-hole of a boss, the melancholy I felt upon listening to the falling autumn rain, the impatience that filled my mind as I made that sandwich — and put those colors of mood-paint into a jar and shake them up, determine the temperature and shade of Nothingness that comes out as a result, and report back to the person on the other end of the phone line.
So I usually just answer,
“Fine, and how are you?”
and
“It was nice, and your’s?”
Hoping that that part of the “conversation” is quickly over and done with. And why must I do this? Why must I interrupt the flow of my psyche to answer an inane daily question to which the daily answer is usually equally inane? Why must I be asked these questions that are only asked because that is the only way some people know how to start a conversation? Why must I be subjected to the mediocrity of people’s stupid conversational habits? Which inevitably becomes,
“Fine, fine.”
and
“It was good.”
The whole thing bores me to such tears, it makes me want to throw up. It really ruins my day. Which is why I never pick up the phone in the first place.
If anyone really knows me at all, they would know that I hate this. To those who claim to know me well and still persist on asking these questions out of habit at the beginning of every conversation, it is absolutely unforgiveable. I don’t ask that everyone be clever or interesting or entertaining when they talk to me. I’m just asking people not to put the burden of speaking on me, just because they have nothing else to say except ask stupid questions. Or even better, just don’t call me at all.
It is even more dreadful when I am asked the most hated question of all,
“And what did you do today?”
To which I answer:
“Stuff.”
And then make up some excuse, and hang up the phone. That last one is really too much for me to bear.
La Practica USA?
I was talking with a friend of mine last night, and she told me that she tries to think of her home city as one big huge practica, in preparation for her next trip to Buenos Aires.
No matter what the event — milonga, festival, workshop, birthday, wedding, housewarming, or a real practica — she just tries to get as much dancing in so she won’t be “too rusty” the next time she goes to Argentina.
Hmmm.
(No wonder so many people look and feel like they’re practicing here in the New York milongas…)
6+ months of practica doesn’t sound like too much fun to me, although, apparently, this curbs her yearning for BsAs somewhat. Not surprisingly, her dancecard has been getting emptier and emptier…
I haven’t been dancing much. I miss seeing my friends, but the thought of going to the same old dilapidated venues, to the same old DJs, to the same old tangorillas creating havoc on the dancefloors, to the same old cliques that don’t speak to each other, to the same old drama of who doesn’t like whom and who’s getting a big ego these days, blah blah, day in and day out…
It’s all so tiring, you know, and my desire to take my shoes with me on a night out just evaporates.
I miss the variety of the tango scene in Buenos Aires. Ofcourse, everyone has the local milonga they go to regularly (which do not even compare to most of the milongas in New York City), but one can go to a different milonga every night of the week for a month, and still not have tasted everything the city has to offer in terms of tango.
I think it’s time for some festivals.
Surf’s up
I can forgive a crappy floor, as long as there’s some consistancy. Or, as long as it’s level, I can be happy dancing on tarmac.
However, a crappy floor that is also simulating ocean waves makes me really mad. Up down up down… I can’t tell where my toe or heel will end up, so my steps fall too short or too long every other beat, and my knees buckle everytime I miscalculate. So, I guess this is good-bye to one milonga here in New York.
:-/
Well, I was getting annoyed there anyway. Every time I go, they’d take pictures of me and post them up on their internet photo album, then use them as advertising for their next milonga. They do this to everyone who goes there. I have five objections to this:
One, the pictures are fugly.
Two, they do this without asking my permission.
Three, the constant camera flash disrupts my dancing.
Four, the pictures are fugly.
Five, did I mention the pictures are fugly?
I don’t know how people keep going there. I don’t know how I’ve kept going there.
In any case, for whatever reason, no more, para mi.
(God, I miss Canning…)
