Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Sometimes you wanna go
Where everybody knows your name
And they're always glad you came
You wanna be where you can see
Our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody knows your name
                                --Theme song of Cheers! (American TV series set in a bar in Boston,   1982-1993)


I especially "wanna be where everyone knows my name" because I live in a foreign country and my home and family are far, far away. I think we all want to be at Cheers! at certain times. So it's a great pleasure for me to walk into a milonga in Buenos Aires and feel at home.
Since I tend to go to the same milongas week after week for years, like most of the other habitués, we kiss each other hello (not goodbye), sit in the same chairs at the same tables, and watch each other get older. It's comfortable and wonderful.

Still, not everyone knows my name or me theirs. When we buy our ticket at the door, we check our personal lives, our worries, and our aches and pains with our coats, and enter the milonga where all that matters is the dancing.

It's traditional that between tangos during the time for chatting, we only speak impersonally (if we follow the codigos.) We never talk about what we or others do for a living, marital status, housing and living arrangements. We speak about the weather, the music, whether the milonga is crowded tonight, and perhaps give our first name. But often as not, we don't remember everyone's actual names and instead greet each other with, Hola, linda! or Que pasa, flaca? or Todo bien, jefe?

So perhaps everyone doesn't know my name, but still I am home in the milonga.

Thursdays at Nuevo Chique

Hoppy and Ruben: Affairs of the Heart

As anyone who knows Ruben knows, he has a happy heart--not the sad, nostalgic, "she done me wrong" mood of the tango, or your typical Argentine. He finds joy in dancing, perhaps where others find release from sadness. Whatever. It's not important why someone is drawn to the tango.

But I had the strangest thought last week. Somehow in conversation I remembered my crush on cowboy star Hopalong Cassidy when I was a teeny weeny child, like 6 or so. I remember well being smitten by his all black attire sitting on his white horse, Topper, his white hair under the black hat, and his laugh, his fabulous, joyous, hearty laugh.

I mean, I really remember being "in love" with his image on our little black and white TV. He was my first love; my more serious affair of the heart was when I was 7 and really and truly in love with Gene Kelly. No kidding, folks, you can laugh, but I remember. Never put down the emotions of children. Puppy love is a whim of the adults.

So last week when chatting with a student, it occurred to me that Ruben has a resemblance to Hoppy. Can you see it? Or am I plain nuts? Or am I crazy even to think it makes any difference what someone looks like after a gadzillion years. It's sort of like the psychologists who say you either fall in love with someone who reminds you of your father or is exactly the opposite.

Ruben looks nothing like my father. But somehow, he reminds me of Hoppy.

I never knew that Hoppy (Bill Boyd) made a successful visit to Buenos Aires in the early 50s, where he also was idolized as the cowboy hero of radio, film, TV, and the comics. His words to Clarin on arrival: "Estoy moi contentou de haberr arivado a esta yenerosa y hospitaleira Aryentina".

Viva Hoppy!!!

So I Thought I Could Dance

If you love dance, the American (I haven't seen other versions) TV reality competition So You Think You Can Dance is an amazing display of virtuosity and talent. I'm completely addicted, not only because of the phenomenal young dancers, but to the choreographers who are given full credit and exposure on this show. I'm also impressed with the hostess, Cat Deeley, who not only is beautiful--that's a given--but it is apparent that she cares very much for all of the contestants, and never is at a loss for the right things to say. Even the judging panel, although everyone seems to love to hate them, tries to give constructive criticism and appears to want all the dancers to be all they can be. Unlike other shows, the music selected is played in the original versions, not rewritten for the studio band as in Dancing With the Stars, and it makes a huge difference.

Thank goodness for torrents, because I'm able to download the show and watch it immediately here in Buenos Aires. While Ruben is watching futbol, I can keep up to date with what's happening in my home country in dance.

Since the age of three and my first ballet class, I wanted to be a professional dancer. I thought if I worked hard enough, my body would do all of those things it had to do. God knows, I had the spirit, the heart and the soul and the emotion. And I had the training. How I wish someone would have told me that I didn't have the body!

Even in those days, a Balanchine body was everything. The truth is, if I had been been born earlier perhaps I could have made it, judging by the films and photos I've seen of ballerinas in the 30s and 40s.

Tamara Karsavina - Taking class c1920



VideoLife Uzerinden Izle


How standards have changed in a few decades. What does the future bring? To my mind, how can any dancer do more with their bodies than the kids on TV?


But watching these teenagers on SYTYCD has brought home to me that never in a million years could I have done the tumbling, the stunts, the crazy lifts and tricks that all of them can do with such apparent ease. The athleticism is beyond amazing. I was never an acrobat or a candidate for Cirque du Soleil.


As for me, I did have a career in dance--but not as a classical ballerina. Thank goodness I had what it takes for belly dancing, and for tango. I also danced various forms all my life--jazz, flamenco, salsa, tap--and worked as a newspaper dance critic and the dance librarian for Los Angeles Public Library.

But honestly, if someone, anyone of consequence, had told me early on that all of the hard work in the world wouldn't make me a ballet dancer, that anatomy can determine destiny, I would have been grateful. Probably nobody wants to discourage a youngster from their dreams, but sometimes it can be a blessing to know to put one's efforts elsewhere. I majored in dance at UCLA and kept persevering, but way down deep I had accepted that I could be a better choreographer than dancer, but I didn't know how to go about making a living at it without a stage career first.

Like Edith Piaf, however, I regret nothing. And how lucky was I that late in life the tango found me and changed me and my future forever.


Mia Michaels, fabulous choreography and judge this season on SYTYCD, advised Robert last night, who had danced an emotional contemporary piece, to let the movement flow from the emotion--otherwise it's just dancing steps. Judge Adam Shankman said the Jose needs to dance the "intention" of the piece, and someone else said, that you need to "become the music". The same exact things can all be said of tango!

Gaucho Gourmet

Francis Mallmann is Argentina's star chef. I accidentally caught his TV show as he was cooking amazing hot salads in the middle of a field of snow. Alone. With his famous accoutrements of an upholstered love seat, DVD player, artistic fire rings, and his sports vehicle which hauls everything around (along with his cameraman, I assume.)

First of all, he has great charisma, a part of being a "star" anything. But it was so dramatic, romantic, and sexy to see him prepare the gourmet food--that wasn't a side of beef-- in the middle of nowhere. He kept me glued to the screen. You can read more about his gaucho grilling here.

But what you really want to do is catch his show on the Gourmet channel (elgourmet.com), and be inspired. It was a bit of a shock to me, but there is more than meat to eat in Argentina!

Cuando Un Abrazo Es Necesario

Tonight's episode of Grey's Anatomy was about the healing properties of hugs. How a hug can calm a panic attack, slow the heart rate, and bring about a general feeling of well being.

Of course all of us tangueros know the importance of the embrace. But perhaps some don't know it also has medical benefits.

There are many current studies proving that dancing tango helps folks with medical conditions--Parkinson's, Alzheimer's, Down's, depression. Even without official research, those of us who dance it know we always feel better afterwards, no matter what was bothering us physically or emotionally when we arrived at the salon. It's the endorphins, the exercise, the sheer fact of being held tightly in someone's arms.

We can spend an evening embracing friends and moving to music, or we can get our hugs for free on the street. This collage is from photos taken in Berlin during their Free Hugs Campaign. For more info, check out Abrazos Gratis.

Dreams Wet and Cold on Showmatch

I don't have a fixation with this TV show, honestly, but it is interesting from a dance viewpoint and cultural differences. Furthermore, I have to hand it to them that they are always searching for new forms of dance entertainment (and ways to show the women's c--o's.) Marcelo Tenelli's Showmatch (Telefe) appears to be of national importance, if you consider the amount of space dedicated to it on TV news/talk shows, magazines, and the internet. The hashing and rehashing of the jury's points, what everyone said, how they looked, errors made, etc., complete with lots of replays ad nausaum.

First breaking ground never imagined by Dancing With the Stars with the hit show, Bailando Por un Sueno, Showmatch presented Patinando Por un Sueno (Skating for a Dream), and this year, Aquadance in big crystal tubs of water, and Bailando Abajo Lluvia (Dancing in the Rain.)




Here's an example of one of the best "Rain" dances.





The same folks who bring us  Showmatch also do Talento Argentino. The following video of a tango solo by dancer Juan Francisco Segui shows that there is amazing Argentine talent out there that doesn't depend on naked female flesh and/or plastic surgery.

Dancing for Marcelo--and all Argentina!

I've been wanting to post again about Marcelo Tinelli's Bailando por un Sueño. the Argentine smash hit version of Dancing With the Stars, for some time now. Paddy beat me to it (and he's got more photos and even videos!), and Miss Tango also inspired me with her recent post.


It's astounding how important this show is in the Argentine culture, how much space it takes up. If you miss the live 10:30 p.m. nightly airing, the following day blow-by-blow recaps are on all the talk shows, with repeat video footage, and then repeats of the repeats. Each judge's scoring is hashed, rehashed and argued; if a dancer herself argues, so much the better--hooray, controversy and thus more press. Then of course the weekly celebrity magazines are full of the same photos. For those who want even more, Bailando also has it's own blog, complete with judges' scores and videos. Maybe the show is blown all out of proportion because being concerned with crucial events happening in Argentina and the world is too depressing. Que sé yo?






When I first arrived in Buenos Aires to live more than four years ago, I was sort of disgusted by the show and the exploitation of women's bodies, by all the plastic surgery, by all the pandering. But then with time, I got more used to the close-ups of the ladies' derrieres in the super-skimpy costumes and how it was more about how everyone looked than how they danced. As you can imagine, wardrobe and makeup are huge on this show. The stars on Showmatch are primarily vedettes, or showgirls and spokesmodels, so what can you expect? Sometimes they can dance well, more often they can't, but they all have gorgeous bodies. Once in a while they'll have a guy singer or comedian, but it's rare that a man is one of the stars dancing for his dream (help for various charities and worthy causes).

But also I became somewhat impressed with the variety of dances presented: salsa, cumbia, adagio, caño or pole dancing, strip tease, children's songs, ayé, milonga, cuarte tasso, rock 'n roll, rock nacional, disco latino, bellydance, and music videos (my personal favorite). Another good point besides the variety of dances, is that all the dances are performed as couples, so the pole dance, for example, had little stories to account for the male half of the couple. In the bellydancing, the guy was usually a sheik or a customer, but sometimes he shook it as well.

The truth is that the choreography is similar in whatever dance--designed to show the women's nether regions, and in the "sexier" ones (I use quotes because ALL of them are sexy, even the children's songs category), there is simulated uh, sex. All the dances include certain required lifts and trucos, as well as splits. And in the strip tease and pole dances, the girls exposed their breasts at the end.

What really took the cake, though, for me, a PC and sensitive North American, was the recent blackface makeup on a couple of contenders. I was so shocked I took photos of the TV screen to show you, because otherwise I bet you wouldn't believe me:

















When I posted Stripper Dreams about Showmatch a year ago, I was amazed when checking the stats on how readers come to my blog, how many people searched Google for "naked tango," "nude tango," topless tango," and "stripper." So now that I'm using these words in this post, I guess even more people will arrive on tangocherie with hopes of seeing more than a milonga photo or a picture of my new cat.

At least they don't do a naked tango on Showmatch, for which I for one am thankful. Or they haven't done one yet.

Stripper Dreams

Marcelo Tinelli's wildly popular Argentinian version of TV's Dancing With the Stars, SHOWMATCH, Canal 13 at 22:30, debuted a new dance this week: Strip Tease. Last week it was a campy milonga (photo below), but previous new-to-the-arena-dances were Poledancing (is that one word?), and a barefoot folklore. But whatever the dance of the week is, the main thing is to show the girls' thong-clad asses.



Which is of course the idea of a strip tease (is that two words?) Now because I admire good dance in all of its forms, I have no problem with the choice of art form. Sure, it's sexist but we are in Argentina, and there's also a guy dancing with the girl (in the pole dance too, but he of course doesn't dance with the pole, since he has his own.)

So I tuned in last night hoping to see a sexy pas de deux, sort of like Julio Bocca's Ballet Argentino, or at least as good as a lounge show in Vegas. Silly me. It was soooooooo boring. Because even if the bodies are perfect and almost naked, prancing around quickly taking off clothes isn't easy. If there's no technique or grace, just pulchritude, a three minute performance is two and a half minutes too long. Being almost naked just isn't enough to make it entertaining. And on Marcelo's show, that's the usual state of affairs anyway.


The producers and choreographers know that, and so tried to make little dramas out of the numbers: two soldiers (one a girl, of course) lost in the jungle (one judge criticized the ethics of the theme because there's too much war in the world), a Spanish prostitute and a bullfighter to the music of Carmen, and, it's hard to remember now, a nurse and her patient, which may have been the best of the three and the nurse may have been a transvestite, but I was almost asleep at this point.