Return to the Counting House

Tuesday 3 November, 2015, 1930

In Glasgow on Saturday, I had learned that the regular host/DJ at the Counting House in Edinburgh being away, Juan was going to DJ for the Sunday night milonga. I decided to make I think only my second trip there of the year. I last went mid-July to hear DJ Lucas Malec who lives in the Netherlands. I did not take a photo so my most recent photo is from nearly a year ago but the Counting House does not really change. It is a much-loved venue for dancing tango - quite the ideal shape and size, with chairs and tables and a bar downstairs. The lights weren’t even turned down too low this time for invitation by look. Entry must be about the best value in the UK: £3 for dancing from 1900-2300, times which certainly suit me, even more so on a school night.

Numbers were about the lowest I have ever seen at the Counting House, hardly over twenty at the busiest time. I heard though that after the August lull the milonga had been busy in September but that there had been a milonga brunch in the city the day before which might have affected numbers. I knew also that there had been a tango tea in nearby Dalmeny that day.

Because of the low turnout the ronda was largely unproblematic. In one tanda though there were only about five couples on the floor yet my partner was kicked by a couple in the centre. The guy had been in extravagant mode and his partners heels flicked up left and right. My partner cried out and we stopped dancing both shaken though she was OK. They both apologised after quite a pause but I was astonished how difficult it had become for me to dance the remainder of the track. These things do happen but I was stunned to see today the same guy talking about #Connect, #HonorEachOther #FeelTheOneness. It is this meaningless, fluffy, marketing pseudo-babble, rife in the tango world that really needles me some days especially when, as in this case, it is so obviously false. Unsurprisingly, that sort of fake-speak is the giveaway. No one talks like that in real life.

Late in the evening while I was dancing I saw a swing crowd invade one end of the ronda and started dancing swing (moves) to tango (music). There was plenty of space and they were not noisy but it was a clash of cultures, inappropriate and disruptive. The host I know keeps a sharp eye out for this sort of thing but was dancing. I saw Juan intervene or be about to intervene. Whether because of this or their own awareness that they were really not fitting in they all trooped out within about a minute. Seated tango dancers who had been watching aghast began laughing so it was well tolerated as the mistake it was.

There was still quite a bit of the "you are invisible" thing going on at the Counting House among the habitués. It is sad that that atmosphere and refusal to acknowledge people is still going strong and being perpetuated but it has been like that in the four years since I first went there. I have heard from women in the surrounding area who I know to be nice dancers that they have been to the Counting House but been ignored, felt understandably uncomfortable and so rarely go back. On the other hand people inside it talk about a "tight" community with little of the common division there often is between teachers and organisers in other cities. I tend to see this more as a monopoly, which I see confirmed by the fact that still only one milonga operates outside of the Edinburgh Tango Society: La Redonda, now sadly downgraded from weekly milonga to a monthly three hour milonga on a Thursday. 

"Tight" communities are also ones that are not necessarily great at welcoming new people. Still, I was aware of at least three of us and possibly more inviting a new dancer who was sitting alone. How different from La Bruja in Amsterdam where one evening I was recently invited by just one guy I had danced with years before in a roomful of 100 or so people. Luckily, some of the women there were keen to dance and lovely.

In the Counting House, a girl I knew to be dancing only five months was so assured in her connection, so natural in her movement. I had seen her dancing in milongas outside Edinburgh. "It is because you are always in the milongas" I said, marvelling, between tracks. She shrugged. “Well, I can't go to the classes so…” ”And see the results of that happy coincidence” I thought, delighting at finding such an unspoilt dancer. Not only that but someone so confident that from learning to dance in the milongas there would be at least nothing wrong with their dancing. Far from it. It will probably be no surprise that she does not have the focused, uptight anguish about dance improvement of so many British dancers. I admire women with the strength of character and the self-belief not only to know just from dancing that they are nice to dance with, but not to be ground down by nay-sayers and those who stump up for class week after week, year after year regurgitating the received idea that everyone needs class for those conveniently vague catch-alls: “the basics” and “working on technique”.

A new guy dancer I met abroad who has sound instincts asked last week:

- What do I respond to the expected good advice to 'take a beginners course' first’ ?
- You might say: "thanks", smile and remember to avoid them for dance in the future :)

Refreshingly, there were a couple of new dancers from Louise Tait's new queer tango group. What a pleasure to meet a guy who wants to “get” the woman’s part - and with enjoyment - while he also learns to dance the guy’s traditional role. It struck me those dancers, though brand new had all the right ideas. Louise brings her students to the milonga. This is how new people learn to dance and learn how things are. They in turn bring others and things get passed on with no unsubtle, in-yer-face milonga rules and demands, of which the smarter versions masquerade as cool talk or comedy. 

Juntos milonga in London (which closed this week) had floor supervisors and seven pages about rules - a warning to other milongas of what not to do if ever there was one. A lot of learning is just being there: watching, listening, chatting, dancing a bit. I heard about a guy in the Edinburgh blues scene who believes just the same thing and who had introduced new dancers that way too. I love to meet people like that.

Music (tangos)  I felt Juan's music had been better in Glasgow. As I arrived I heard two good tandas. One was Fresedo and so good I despaired that I was still getting ready and that it was so early there would be few people with whom I might dance it. The other was possibly Caló, I forget now. I don’t recall hearing Lomuto in the set this time. The OTV in Edinburgh was in the middle of the set rather than early as it had been the day before. Mid-set is fine by me. I find it reassuring when sets don't start with endless Canaro/Carabelli/Maglio/Firpo and worse from the 1930s or even earlier. This tanda started with Coqueta and ended with the Viento Norte which if you follow these links you’ll see were in two OTV tandas of his I minded previously. We had a chat about it though! For those who find these things curious and revealing, Coqueta in that link is being danced by teacher/DJ Stefan OK and his partner. The Viento Norte couple, Pablo Inza and Sofia Saborido I met the other week on their visit to Scotland.

I can’t remember exactly how all the music was over the two nights I heard Juan this weekend but mostly the tangos were nice for me. The most reliable tandas were: D’Arienzo, Biagi, D'Agostino, Donato, Caló, Laurenz I think was all or mostly good; Troilo, though I have also heard him play Troilo with Marino; Demare - what I heard of it because I think I may have left during a Demare on possibly the Saturday. He played Pugliese but I can't remember if it was good for dancing. I rarely dance it in swapped roles and there's almost never a guy I want to dance it with so I switch off a bit. As music for listening it was fine, certainly.

Slightly less reliable for me was Rodriguez but I see I’ve noticed this before. An opener was Expresión campera which I had some reservations about at the time, but listening again I wonder what I minded. I'm not persuaded it's the best opener though.

Occasionally in the music especially in Edinburgh on Sunday I did hear the odd serious miss. One of these was in Canaro, a track I knew but which makes me feel I am in the circus - some Canaro is like that. It wasn't quite El rey del bosque, but it wasn't far off. I nearly quit the floor but my partner was a beginner. It's a shame when there is an embarrassment of great Canaro to choose from. 

I heard a mix of Di Sarli over the two nights. I cannot recall him playing De Angelis, neither this weekend nor in the past. 

The vals and milonga were usually good for me with the odd track that missed. There were Troilo-Marino milongas e.g. Barrio del tambor which I like though I didn’t know his third one. It is a tricky choice though with so few people but they were danced. Later he played fast D'Arienzo milonga including De Antaño which I also like very much. I thought it too much with the Troilo milongas. Although I do like these and dance them quite often with a guy I know well I may be coming round to the view that there are so few people who like these and can dance them well and comfortably that they are probably not worth playing.

I don’t know why people talk so much about, well I think it’s called milonga con traspie and milonga lisa. It feels either smooth, comfortable and safe or it is jerky, rough and horrid. If only more guys tried being on the receiving end of their milonga con traspie I think there would be less of it. Very few dancers in my experience can dance this traspie style well for their partners and so perhaps I am more inclined to think now that it is not the best idea to encourage people to throw others around like rag dolls and do them injury by playing these very fast and jerky milongas. 

It was a relief to meet a visitor from Stuttgart who also struggles with the girls-in-a-line-on-bar-stools thing. There is a view that most guy visitors will try to dance mostly with girly girls in skirts and heels, sometimes regardless of whether they can dance or not and that girls who swap can be near the bottom of the mental list, if they're even on it. I understand that view but there can be some pleasant surprises. It's also nice when you meet a visitor, who can dance and who, like the lovely Finn, sometimes even asks to swap, or in his case presented it, in the middle track more as a delightful fait accompli. I suppose though in general tango tends to attract guys who like girls to be girls. 

A: Would you describe yourself as a feminist?

B: I do not describe myself as a feminist. On the contrary, I might describe myself as a femininist :)

...though to make assumptions about quite what that means might be unwise. 

Luckily, there are all kinds of girls. I was dancing in conventional roles with one of the new dancers and apologising for having my own (silent, dance) ideas and possibly disrupting his (silent) dance plans, which isn't really fair with a new guy. But he was so charming, fun and easygoing - my favourite sort of dancer. He said:

- In the other dance I do we'd call you a "cat" dancer. 

- Why "cat"?

- Well, as opposed to the biddable, puppy-dog type.