This leaves me breathless.
May we have peace one day.
Bless you Denis Labelle for this gift, this day, most particularly.
#Tango #Dance #Orlando
June 13, 2016
-GOOGLE+, DANCE with me, let me put my arms around you...
Dance, Giselle Minoli, Orlando, Tango
June 13, 2016 at 11:37 pm
I was sure you would love it, Giselle Minoli
June 14, 2016 at 1:13 am
I just came back from my private dance lesson Denis Labelle, where the Argentine Tango is my favorite thing to do. But after watching this tonight, I decided to just let the memory of it linger…and do the Bolero instead. However did you find it? I comb YouTube for different tangos…this one eluded me…
June 14, 2016 at 2:10 am
How extraordinary! Thank you for sharing this, Giselle Minoli!
June 14, 2016 at 2:30 am
My pleasure Bodhipaksa. But I tip my hat to Denis Labelle for sharing with me first. The thing about the Argentine Tango is that I believe one has to be introduced to it by another person who loves it. Then you’re hooked by its beauty, its endless mysteries, the music, the complexity and simplicity of the movement, the dancers, the whole thing of it. So now we’ve ensnared another in our web and I’m happy for it.
June 14, 2016 at 2:54 am
I very rarely want to live a life different from the one I do, the exception being when I see miracles of dance like this. Then I wish I had the time and opportunity to learn to dance really well.
June 14, 2016 at 12:08 pm
Denis Labelle and Bodhipaksa indeed – the dukkha in dance. I have felt similar attachments to different dance partners, interestingly for me the attachment is the most profound with the Tango, and, I would say, my own attachment to the Tango is the most profound of any of the dances.
Yes, dukka is pervasive, and it’s all too easy to get attached to ‘doing it right,’ or looking ‘beautiful’ while doing it, or ‘using’ the dance as as surrogate means of connectedness or even a replacement for it or any of a number of other things. I see many dancers do this…they constantly looking for the ‘Tango’ in life, can’t find it, and spend all available free time with the Milonga group.
On the other hand, there are so many things one gets out of it – the creation of beauty and loving-kindness – but also understandings about relating to a partner, following and leading, improvisation, trust, self-expression and allowing a partner to do the same, the list goes on.
And then there are the many things who watch and appreciate the Tango get, which is another thing entirely and its own version of – creating beauty and loving-kindness.
Bodhipaksa it’s never too late. Some of the most exquisitely tuned Tango dancers are older. There is a movie out called Our Last Tango about Carlos Copez (my own teacher’s mentor) and his wife and partner Maria Nieves Rego. Watch for it. I think it is in wider release in Europe than in the States.
June 14, 2016 at 12:11 pm
Giselle Minoli, few days ago, I was looking for Piazzolla on YouTube and then found this.
BTW, did you know that AP had a limp? And look now how he inspires people to dance…
Denis Wallez , I was a long distance runner and studied in high performance coaching. Trust me, forget running, the gym, etc. and dance instead. 🙂
June 14, 2016 at 12:25 pm
I second your suggestion to Denis Wallez Denis Labelle. I didn’t know Astor had a limp. Lessened by the Tango? Disguised by the Tango? Hidden by the Tango? Soothed by the Tango? None of the above?
June 14, 2016 at 12:30 pm
Giselle Minoli , none of the above: In 1925 Astor Piazzolla moved with his family to Greenwich Village in New York City, which in those days was a violent neighbourhood inhabited by a volatile mixture of gangsters and hard-working immigrants.His parents worked long hours and Piazzolla soon learned to take care of himself on the streets despite having a limp. At home he would listen to his father’s records of the tango orchestras of Carlos Gardel and Julio de Caro, and was also exposed to jazz and classical music, including Bach, from an early age. He began to play the bandoneon after his father spotted one in a New York pawn shop in 1929. (Wikipedia ;))
June 14, 2016 at 12:39 pm
There ought to be a movie about this particular composer’s life Denis Labelle. I begged the producers of Our Last Tango for a DVD…but was not successful…I will have to wait wait wait wait wait. Ah…but perhaps that is a Tango lesson itself, isn’t it? 😉
June 14, 2016 at 12:41 pm
About running I always think…’Running to what? Running from what?’
June 14, 2016 at 12:44 pm
Off topic – Parles-tu francais, Denis Wallez ? 🙂
Rhone wine + tango = paradise
June 14, 2016 at 1:02 pm
I believe you that it’s never too late, Giselle Minoli.
I wasn’t assuming that being able to dance well would solve all my problems or be some kind of ultimate source of happiness, Denis Wallez 🙂 Everything I love doing (especially writing) is a source of pain and frustration as well as of joy.
I just love observing the grace of good dance, and the sense of flow., and the emotion inherent in bodies (especially two bodies) working together. I’ve loved this since I started going to see contemporary dance in my twenties. And apparently part of me would love to be able to do that. But what I do right now (teaching, writing, and parenting) is financially precarious and doesn’t allow for much downtime. Circumstances change, however, and maybe Giselle is right and I’ll find the time later in life.
June 14, 2016 at 1:05 pm
Bravo for the beautiful Dharma House, Denis Wallez ( I am looking at your website)!
June 14, 2016 at 1:13 pm
Giselle Minoli -> Astor Piazzolla In Portrait – Tango Maestro: youtube.com/watch?v=UFuDWMwtx_4
June 14, 2016 at 1:28 pm
Bodhipaksa for reasons to numerous to list here I’m particularly interested in you have written. The simplest of my reasons (perhaps not so simple) is my interest in what it means to age, aside, of course, from the physical aspect of it, and aside (I think) from the assumed psychological/spiritual aspects of giving back, the wisdom…you know…that direction.
I am thinking of it the way I think of the particular beauty and grace in, for instance, tulips that would be considered past their prime, their beauty (when cut and in a vase of water). There is a moment when something extraordinary happens when they begin to droop, to lose their brilliant color. You can see the inevitable process toward total demise happening right in front of your eyes, but there is a moment when the bloom will also openly fully and relax and everything is revealed.
I can give you many example of this, but none, I think, more poignant than those found in nature.
I feel this way about dance. I began when I was 6, and it was all about prowess then. I left it for many many years after serious injuries caused by, Yes, prowess-issues, to practice Yoga. In these last ten years I have returned to dance, primarily ballroom. I don’t have to struggle with prowess issues anymore because, well, I cannot do and will never again be able to do what I once was capable of.
I would be lying to you if I were to say that I don’t miss it. I do. But what I am more interested in now is that full expression, the one I see in the dying tulip, the rose, the mandevilla bloom, that moment when everything can open up, to the sun, to the heart, to the partner, and you can find an expression of the movement that is beyond flexibility, musculature, physical tone or any of the other things we associate with dance and the beauty of dance (normally).
My own teacher introduced me to the few videos available of Juan Carlos Copez and I’m grateful. When I watch him dance, it is that expression I am speaking of.
Would it surprise you to learn that I feel writing is thus? The full expression of the dying flower???
June 14, 2016 at 2:24 pm
Wabi sabi, Giselle Minoli! (I assume that’s a concept you’re well aware of.)
Writing as “The full expression of the dying flower” is a beautiful expression. I’ll let that one percolate. But as a writer I’d be interested to know how you understand that.
One of the things about getting older is that it’s easier to experience physical pleasure, and to feel when things are right or not. My body used to be just this thing that moved my head around, and now it’s much more alive and full of sensation.
Aging seems to be a race between the body’s becoming stiffer and achier, and its dissolving into bliss. I’d imagine that’s because of the meditation, which is ironic, since despite Buddhism’s reputation for being rather ascetic, the more I meditate, the more capacity I have for taking delight in sensual pleasure. Then again, from a Buddhist point of view the aim isn’t to avoid pleasure, but to avoid being addicted to it.
June 14, 2016 at 2:50 pm
Bodhipaksa I am indeed familiar with Wabi-Sabi. I have a book on it that I keep by my bedside. I first became familiar with it when I started designing fine jewelry and was (only) interested in manifesting what I was calling perfect imperfection. The concept of Wabi-Sabi gave me courage.
And it’s interesting you mention it here because I think it absolutely applies to dance, and specifically, to the ‘art’ inherent in the Argentine Tango particularly, because the American Tango and competition Tango do not come close, in my view.
I’m intrigued and smiling at your observation that as you get older you are more able to know what is right for you and your body and that it’s easier to experience physical pleasure. Yes. I feel that, too, which is something that has come as a welcome and wonderful surprise.
Unfortunately, I do not feel that the world that women live within and it’s enormous pressure to look forever young physically, allows for the discovery of what you are talking about. And, I would also say that the effort to fight against aging in certain purely physical ways makes it impossible to discover the beauty of dissolving into bliss (I love that, thank you).
My thoughts about all of this as a writer are vast and coming together for me in ways that result directly from a serious accident I had a couple of years ago, after which I think that for the first time in my life I allowed myself to fully explore and express all of the emotions, sensations, feelings surrounding the mystery of life and death. Yes, of course, still in a story telling sense, a narrative sense, but more, sometimes, just in the presentation of a thought, a poem, one line, a noticing of something.
When I was younger (and pre-accident) I would have felt bound to beat my noticings into the submission of some accepted ‘writing’ form. I no longer do, following the lead of a dying flower dissolving into bliss, each of them in the remain individual expressions of life and death.
If any of this makes any sense. It’s an entirely other and welcome conversation and I am grateful to you for showing up here.
June 14, 2016 at 8:12 pm
I’m not sure I see the connection, Giselle Minoli, between what I was saying, which was about an internal perception of the body’s sensations, and the pressures women face to remain forever young or feel they’re failing, which are more external. Can you say more? (All I can think you might mean, is that perhaps a focus on the external makes it harder to focus internally, but then again my experience is that women are roughly twice as likely as men to be drawn to spiritual practice, which mainly has an internal focus.)
To me, 90% of beauty is kindness, love, and an intelligent curiosity about the world, and especially about the beings that inhabit it. The woman who I hope will be my life partner (hope, because we live very far apart and can’t yet see any way to be together) always seems surprised when I tell her how beautiful I find her. She focuses on the blemishes and wrinkles, and think they make her unlovable, but each of those are just things for her beauty to shine through. If we do manage to be together, I’m looking forward to seeing her beauty radiating out through her as she ages. She’ll never stop being beautiful in my eyes, because her beauty comes from who she is.
June 14, 2016 at 9:04 pm
You guessed right Bodhipaksa…I did indeed mean that focusing on the external makes it (more) difficult to focus on the internal. And I think women being drawn to a spiritual practice is the same as tending a vegetable garden, preparing dinner for her family, nurturing children, constructing, growing, creating.
As for your distant and hopefully future life partner, I understand her. When I am alone I don’t see my own blemishes. Because I never think about what I look like, or whether I’m pleasing to anyone. Never. That happens only in the company of others…men and women.
I mean, here we are on this medium dominated by being plussed and followed or blocked and ignored! 😉
June 17, 2016 at 12:31 am
Elizabeth Millard Walter Futterweit and Jana Djordjevic thank you for resharing this. I’ve been listening to the music of Astor Piazolla all week…
June 17, 2016 at 1:16 am
Beautiful tango is a process of transference – your love for the music will be transferred to her, and she will be enchanted. I love my class. It is like being in a dream :) Giselle Minoli
June 17, 2016 at 2:14 am
Elizabeth Millard I relate completely to what you wrote. I started my life as a dancer (Modern) when I was six. I wasn’t introduced to the Tango until long after I had stopped dancing. A big part of me wished that I had learned it ever so much younger, but then I realized it is a dance that one never fully learns. It is an exploration, Yes, a tranference, a surrender, a willingness, an improvisation, a statement, a question, Oh so many things. Like being in a dream you are so right. I can think of no place, no action, no thing, that brings with it all that is contained within the tango!
Your post page is beautiful Elizabeth Millard. Where is your class?
June 17, 2016 at 3:35 pm
Elizabeth Millard I think dancers come to style/genre that suits them the same way artists find their medium, be it painting, sculpture, photography, installation art. There has to be a blending of the many voices within. I was introduced to Modern through my half-sister (much much older than me) who had studied dance at Bennington. There were all of these great women of the modern dance movement, Duncan, of course, then Graham and Ruth St. Denis and Hanya Holm and Doris Humphrey and one of them Elizabeth Waters migrated to UNM where she started the dance department and I studied with her starting when I was six. Then to ballet. But something serious was missing for me. I needed to speak, but it wasn’t being done in dance, to my knowledge, until much, much, later when Pina Bausch began to use words and dialogue in dance. But I had long before that left to act, direct and write. Years later I was introduced to certain dances, the Bolero, the Argentine Tango…and the words within the movement were suddenly there for me. All that was missing I found.
It’s an art form that has deep cultural roots. Like hip hop, which I also love. I don’t think Modern and Ballet come from that so much…and that is what I needed, wanted and missed.
You are a dancer. Once a dancer always a dancer. I believe that. Me too. It’s interior isn’t it? A silent language.
June 30, 2016 at 1:55 am
Thank you Walter Futterweit, Elizabeth Millard, Jana Djordjevic, Samantha Sanjeewanie and Mosque Cat prod for sharing my love of dance and The Tango and turning others onto it. How special for me. I am grateful….
June 30, 2016 at 5:23 am
Thank YOU Giselle Minoli. For sharing your love of the dance. I found it awe inspiring. We may have all found kindred spirits.
July 10, 2016 at 6:48 am
Thank you for ur sharing. I love to dance and want to learn various dances all over the world.
July 15, 2016 at 11:16 am
You are welcome Samantha Sanjeewanie. And I hope you do get the chance to learn dances from all over the world. What a great life-time project!
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