Jan

An Unexpected Connection with Argentine Tango

by Bruce Goldstone on January 6, 2014

Microscopic cells next to a couple dancing the Argentine tango, illustrating an unexpected connection between two life passions. (Images © tagota / Thinkstock (L) and © Alejandro Puerta (R))

From the science of cells to dancing at sunset. What’s the connection?
© tagota / Thinkstock (L) and © Alejandro Puerta (R)

Linking Life Passions

What does Argentine tango have to do with molecular biology?

The fields seem disparate, but to Alejandro Puerta, the connection is perfectly clear. They are his life passions, though the link wasn’t always obvious to him, either.

The Dancing Biologist

Today, Puerta teaches tango in Buenos Aires, Argentina, the home of the passionate dance that has intrigued people around the world since the 1890’s. Puerta’s strengths as a tango professor are deeply rooted in his unusual background. He has a Ph.D. in molecular biology and worked for years as a scientist in Japan.

When he became frustrated with limitations in the lab, Puerta decided to leave Japan, and biology, and return to his native Buenos Aires. His initial adjustment was far from painless. Puerta admits:

“Giving up my career as a molecular biologist left me with an enormous sense of loss. I couldn’t stand thinking about all the years I’d ‘wasted’ getting my Ph.D., working in laboratories, and publishing in science journals.”

At first, he struggled to start from scratch on a new career. To clear his mind, he threw himself into his passion—Argentine tango.

“I worked on my tango daily, as therapy. Two hours a day became five, then seven. I started assistant-teaching in group classes and eventually led classes.”

But he still didn’t think of tango as a serious professional option. Until one day, a student asked for a private class in his home-studio, and his teaching business took off on its own.

Argentine tango teacher Alejandro Puerta dancing with a student in San Telmo, Buenos Aires. (Image © Alejandro Puerta)

Teaching tango in San Telmo, Buenos Aires
© Alejandro Puerta

Walking and Talking Tango

At an essential level, tango is walking with a partner to music. Dancers respond emotionally to the rhythm and feeling of the music. Feet are generally kept close to the floor, giving the dance its familiar look of weight and balance.

A man and a woman dancing the Argentine tango. (Image © sodapix / Thinkstock)

If you can walk, with practice you can tango, too.
© sodapix / Thinkstock

Puerta recognizes that Argentine tango is not something you learn in a few classes. It takes patience to learn, practice, and really integrate the fundamentals.

For Puerta, a successful tango doesn’t rely on flashy footwork or glitz—it’s all about the connection between the dancers. The leader and follower share equally in creating a powerful, palpable connection.

When you’re truly connected with your partner, the signals flow easily and you move as one, as the dancers in this video.

If the video does not display, watch it here.

The Language of Tango

In many ways, learning to tango is like learning another language. But this language is expressed by the body instead of the voice.

Instead of studying vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation, students study posture, walking, and connection.

Puerta agrees that viewing tango as a language can help students overcome unrealistic and unproductive learning styles. He explains:

“So many students take group classes where they learn sequences of steps. They mistakenly think that learning tango is simply mimicking those sequences. They focus on looking like what they saw.

“But learning tango is really learning the body vocabulary. It is up to the dancers to make their own music out of that vocabulary.”

A good tango is a conversation between the dancers, and later, between the couple dancing and the other couples on the dance floor.

Instead of learning a set of rigid phrases, like those in a primitive guidebook, Puerta teaches a flexible vocabulary of movements that students can use to say what they want to say when they dance.

Argentine tango teacher Alejandro Puerta and student. (Image © Alejandro Puerta)

Student and teacher share their thoughts while taking a break from dancing.
© Alejandro Puerta

Finding the Connection

When tango dancers engage in their unique “conversation,” they make a connection. Puerta insists:

“In tango, connection is everything. And there is no connection without perfect posture. I love the detail and precision of tango class; it satisfies the scientist in me. But the essence of the dance—embrace and musicality—feeds my artistic side, which was starving in my former career.”

And that’s when Puerta had an “Oh, I see” moment. He realized that he never really abandoned his scientist self:

“The most surprising part of this whole journey has been the discovery that I didn’t have to start over from scratch. Everything I learned as a scientist informs the way I teach tango.

“For example, I think I analyze and explain movement as if I were dissecting a specimen. I want each movement to be completely reproducible—like a science experiment. You have to be able to get the exact same results every time.”

Man and woman dancing the Argentine tango. (Image © Alejandro Puerta)

Communication is key, on the dance floor or in the lab.
© Alejandro Puerta

He continues:

“That means learning precise posture, and it means understanding why holding your body in a certain way affects a movement. If a student doesn’t understand my explanation, I find another way to communicate the information. Just as I did in the lab.”

In his new career, Puerta’s life passions—the precision of the molecular biologist and the artistic “conversation” between tango dancers—have come together. When he says “connection is everything,” he could be referring as much to his own life as he is to a couple dancing the Argentine tango.

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Bruce Goldstone Comments

Argentina/On the World Stage/The World's Music

Dec

Heading South to Ecuador And North on Life Goals

by Bruce Goldstone on December 30, 2013

Bilingual sign in Ecuador, part of a language learning experience that caused a shift in life goals. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Take note: That’s not Señor Chancho and it’s not Mr. Pig.
© Bruce Goldstone

How I Started in on Language Learning—And Gained a Lot More

Twelve years ago, this Mr. Chancho sign would have meant little to me. But now, whenever I look at this photo, it reminds me that any journey is full of surprises, if you’re open to them. I started out on a language learning mission, and wound up shifting my life goals along the way.

Goal One: A Healthy Brain

In 2002, I signed up for Spanish lessons at the Cervantes Institute in New York City. My goal was to keep my brain shipshape.

Studies, such as this one by Ellen Bialystok (Lifespan Cognition and Development Lab, York University), show that learning a second language can help delay or prevent Alzheimer’s. They also suggest that it’s never too late to start building a bilingual brain.

Why did I choose Spanish? It was a mainly arbitrary choice, heavily influenced by two of my good friends, one from Cuba and one from Spain.

Besides, Spanish makes sense in New York City where I live. Here you can find opportunities to practice in the subway, on local TV, or at almost any corner bodega.

Sign in a New York City optician, showing that language learning opportunities and new life goals, are easy to find in the city. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Español is never far away in New York City.
© Bruce Goldstone

Goal Two: Be Less Clueless

On the first day of class, Jorge Gallegos, my new professor, started with one of his favorite quizzes—How many Spanish-speaking countries could we name?

We coughed up Mexico, Spain, and a couple of others and then started to run out of steam. I’m sure you can do better than we did, can’t you? (You’ll find the full list at the bottom of this post.)

At last, with a map and Jorge’s gracious cajoling, we finally arrived at a list of the countries where Spanish is the main language. By the end of class, I had already sensed my first goal shift.

Sure, I wanted to exercise my brain. But maybe this class would help me be a bit less clueless about the world, too.

The class was great fun, and I definitely felt it working brain synapses that were either rusty or completely untapped. We followed immersion methodology. That means that from day one, we spoke only Spanish. It sounds impossible, but with a terrific, patient teacher, you’d be surprised. At least I was.

Along the way, Jorge told us a lot about his native country of Ecuador.

Skip ahead two years.

I decided that I’d like to try a full-on immersion in a Spanish-speaking country. Ecuador was a logical choice since I’d heard so many fascinating things about it from Jorge.

So I went to Cuenca for a month. High in the Andes, Cuenca is an utterly charming small town of tile roofs, Colonial architecture, and a church on every corner (or so it seems.)

Cuenca, Ecuador, the site of a language learning experience that caused the author to shift life goals. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

While there, I took four hours a day of classes at the Centro de Estudios Interamericanos (CEDEI), lived with a wonderful local family, and pushed my brain to exhaustion and beyond.

Daily classes taught me the importance of speaking up, even when you don’t have a clue what you’re saying and, most importantly, making mistakes.

Goal Three: Explore Culture Through Language

After school one day, I was wandering through the lovely streets of Cuenca and found Mr. Chancho, the smiling bilingual pig. While I was snapping a pic, I heard a drum and followed it through the alleys.

Children's parade in Cuenca, Ecuador, the beauty of which prompted the author to shift life goals for language learning. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

I came upon a group of small children wearing Spanish style adult-costumes, complete with moustaches for the boys. They were riding horses decked out in crazy collages of empty liquor bottles and candies.

In my broken Spanish, I asked a bystander what was going on. It was a rehearsal for the Paseo del Niño, an annual parade that takes place each year before Christmas.

My brain was whirring with stimulation. Worries of Alzheimer’s felt years away as I watched the bright and beautiful children, chatted with their relatives, and admired the intricate handiwork of their costumes.

Watching this amazing parade was definitely an “Oh, I see” moment. I realized that my goal for learning Spanish had shifted completely.

What started as exercise for my brain had evolved into something much deeper and more intriguing—a deep craving to know more about Latin cultures.

My ostensible goal—to become fluent in Spanish—remains the same to this day. But the road I started is far from the road I ended up on. The journey has taken me from Ecuador to Spain, Mexico, and eventually Argentina, where I now spend about three months a year.

The more I learn about Latin culture, the happier I am that I started this adventure. Learning a new language is great, but stepping into new cultures is even better.

So now I think of Mr. Chancho (one of my favorite street signs from Cuenca) and his best friend, Mr. Pollo, and remember that being bilingual doesn’t mean just knowing two languages. It means understanding two cultures, and being willing to follow the odd drummer, wherever it leads you.

I’m sure my brain is the better for my language learning efforts, but the effects have reached far more than my physical brain and its unused synapses. My whole outlook has changed because I took aim at one of my life goals and then landed somewhere else altogether.

Spanish-Speaking Countries: Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, El Salvador, Equatorial Guinea, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Spain, Uruguay, Venezuela. Plus Puerto Rico and, of course, the United States.

Spanish Lessons: My first professor, Jorge Gallegos, now runs Easy Español, a language school where you can take classes in person, on-line, or both. He’s a great guy (and a good friend). Tell him Bruno sent you (that’s what I’m called in Argentina.)

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