the world behind the song

I’ve been looking today for a version of the vals Paisaje which I heard recently at a milonga and I can’t get out of my head. I couldn’t find it, but I stumbled upon a wonderful post about this mesmerizing song and about art, tango and life.

What’s funny to me is that I remember already reading this post a few months ago, before I began to understand the vals. When I read the author’s words “[…] lately I’ve begun to think of Paisaje as possibly the most beautiful of all the tangos.” I was intrigued, but when I listened to the song, I dismissed it with a “meh”. I didn’t feel anything special about it.

Today, I still might not go so far in agreeing with him, but I can say that I completely understand him:  even though I think I’ve only “rediscovered” it a few days ago and danced to it perhaps once, Paisaje has already become possibly the most beautiful vals I’ve heard so far.

Well, what has also contributed to this is seeing the translation of the lyrics in that post. Reading them, as well as the translation of Tristeza Marina, sent chills down my spine. I can’t wait to dance to them and I wonder how understanding them a bit better will shape my dance.

At the same time, I’m aware that translations are little more than a shadow of the true meaning, but then again, you also have to learn the local slang, the cultural context…  There’s an entire universe behind those lyrics which passes me by, as I dance to the same songs I love and think I know so well…  on one small level. The entire song is always  “there”, but you can grasp it only up (or down?) to a certain depth. The author of that post, for instance, gives a wonderful description of what he feels when he listens to Paisaje, but when he talks about the story in the song he himself concludes with “At least I think that’s what’s happening”.

I know enough basic Spanish to be able to get at least a rudimentary feel for the lyrics, and so I’m really curious now to dance to Paisaje and Tristeza Marina – what happens when you have some idea of the story behind the song?  And how much more is hidden in the lyrics?

At one point, learning Spanish seems to become an almost natural part of your tango journey. I find this so exciting, and not only because of the world of meaning that will open up, but because I know that it will lead to whole other new worlds, in the years and  decades ahead.

to be continued

unpredictable change – learning vals

While I started dancing milonga pretty much by accident, with vals it was a different story. I wasn’t afraid of dancing it – I just didn’t get it. There would be a few songs that I liked, but in general they all sounded similar and, well, uninspiring. I couldn’t connect to them in any way – until about two months ago, when suddenly I  could.

They just started to make sense. I could feel the emotion in them, the way they build their energy like a grand spiral, a swooping continuous pulsation, not stopping until the last beat. I loved it.

What I find amazing is how sudden and unforeseeable this change was. Like learning a language, one day a certain sentence is meaningless and the next it just makes sense. Our problem, I would say, is that I think we often forget this – just because a change isn’t clearly visible as some continuous, gradual improvement, it doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.

What we should remember, then, is that if we are putting in the hours, doing the right things and being present while we do so, change will happen. We might not be able to predict when, mostly we have no idea what our work will bring in the future and sometimes we’re also not sure if what we’re doing will produce results at all. But that’s the beauty of it, wouldn’t you say?