by Laer Carroll
"Tango includes lots of ochos or figure eight steps. Like that." She nodded at a couple who were dancing to the recorded music which had just started. The woman had twisted her lower body to the side, stepped, then pivoted in the opposite direction. Then repeated the action, going side to side in front of the man.
"See the figure she traces on the floor with her feet? Like the number eight? The suede makes it easier to do them."
Another couple joined the table, both very young, possibly Berkeley students. Which turned out to be the case as the two introduced themselves to Jane and Phil and said Hello to Rachel and Tova whom they obviously knew.
The current set of four tango pieces ended and another began. The student couple got up to dance, as did the mother-daughter couple when asked. Jane and Phil watched the colorful flow of dancers around the floor.
"It's like a race," he said, "where no one wants to win."
"I think of it as river. Or maybe a merry-go-round."
"Merry-go-round. Yes. It's very like that."
As time went by Phil asked questions and Jane answered them. Occasionally she'd point out something interesting.
After an hour passed the music stopped. Then a second kind of music played: rock and roll, also called East Coast Swing. Many more older than younger people got up to dance it. Jane said the older dancers were likely Argentines. Swing had long been a big dance in Argentina and Uruguay in the '50s and '60s, more than tango which had gone out of fashion during that time.
Phil was an expert in Swing, it turned out, and (after asking Jane's permission) danced with a succession of quite old women who obviously had no partners.
After 30 minutes of Swing there was a musical break. Six musicians approached the stage and took up instruments to tune them.
Jane sat up very straight and turned to Phil. "I can't believe it!" she said.
"What?"
"I know them. At least the older bandoneon player and the keyboard player. I've got to go say Hi to them!"
"Sure, Honey."
The older bandoneon player, dressed like all the other musicians in a dark suit with a pastel shirt and black string tie, was stocky and had close-cut black hair liberally laced with silver. He had a tough face straight out of Central Casting for "thug."
Jane addressed him in Spanish. "Julio? How have you been? Do you live here now? I last saw you in L.A."
He squinted at her. Then his face brightened.
"Miss Jane? It is you! You've grown up! What happened to you?"
"I'm in the Air Force now. I'm a scientist."
"I always knew you were smart. Alejandro, you remember Miss Jane."
The younger version of Julio was the keyboard player. He looked up from his instrument and gazed at her. He puzzled for several seconds, then his face lightened in recognition. He got up and went to give her a big hug, lifting her off the floor for a few moments. He set her down and gave her a more comprehensive look.
"You really have grown up, Jane. I'll bet you have many men courting you."
"Only one. He's the tall man talking to Rachel. See? That table?" She pointed.
"Yes. Very distinguished. He's making you happy? If not, I'll beat him up. With Papa."
Jane laughed. "I'm in the military now and know karate and knife fighting and I'm sniper qualified. I can beat him up all on my own, my darling. But thanks for the thought."
"Papito. My wrists are bothering me. Get Jane to take over for me."
"Hah! Lazy is your ailment! What about it, Miss Jane? Take over for Alejandro?"
"Well... One set only. One set. Four pieces. What's your music?"
Julio, the leader of the group, had his son show her the sheet music, actual paper of printed-out scores bound into a big flat booklet. It was sitting on the ledge above the ivory and black of the keyboard. Jane knew all the pieces very well courtesy of Robot's huge memory and her own biological memory.
"OK. Let me tell my sweetheart what I'm going to do. And I'll start with a brief solo as way of introduction."
"Piazzolla? Like you did once before?"
"Piazzolla."
Phil was not bothered by what she was going to do. In fact he was quite curious. He knew much of her musical background but her tango playing was new to him.
Back at the orchestra she sat for a few minutes contemplating what she would play and how. Then she became Jane+Robot+piano keyboard. SHE looked at Julio and nodded. He in turn nodded at Fernando Sosa waiting expectantly off to the side.
He went up onto the dais to the microphone and turned it on.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the first hour of our live music from famed Orchesta Sexteto Julio Rrrromerrro!" He trilled the Rs vigorously.
Julio had his own microphone on a stand beside the chair on which he played his small Argentine accordion, the bandoneon. He spoke in English into it.
"We are privileged tonight to have with us for our first tango set the composer and conductor and pianist Jane Kuznetsov. Señorita."
Bent over the keyboard the cyborg began a part of Astor Piazzolla's famed "balada para un loco"--"Ballad for a Crazy." The part was most of the way through the three-minute piece.
There the cyborg played a very simple section that might recall someone thinking out loud to themselves. The right-hand, treble, notes were slow and strong and bright. The left hand, bass notes, Jane had set the electronic piano to a sound almost like a growling human voice contemplating something sad.
Then the voice turned angry, growing louder and faster as if someone going insanely and suicidally defiant of the sad ways of the world. Louder and louder, faster and faster. The high notes of the piano showered the notes over the listeners
Then the emotions broke, back to thoughtful and sad and slow and growing quieter and quieter.
Then for a few seconds there was silence from the piano keyboard. Then it launched into the most recognizable Argentine tango: "La Cumparsita."
For instants only the keyboard spoke the simple and compelling tune. Then the orchestra joined in: bandoneon, then violin, then bass, then the other bandoneon and violin. The tune grew complex and glorious.
When it was done there was silence. Then applause grew bit by bit. Someone stood and whistled.
The music began again, the second piece in the set, another Golden Oldie from the '40s, first under the applause and then emerging over the applause as it died away. Dancers began to go onto the floor, soon filling the floor. The special moment was over.
When the set was done and the orchestra paused to begin the second set of four tunes Jane stood. She turned to step off the dais and was startled to see that most of those sitting or standing were looking at her.
She was startled. As a cyborg SHE'd been lost in the music and being part of the team made of the rest of the musicians. SHE'd paid only enough attention to the other people to be sure there was no danger to anyone.
She stood still as there was more applause. Apparently everyone thought it was part of the orchestra's intent, to allow her to take a bow for her performance. For a second she hesitated, glancing at Phil.
He was grinning, applauding with everyone else. Seeing the direction of her gaze he gave little double-thumbs up and returned to clapping.
Jane gave a deep bow, then another to the right and the left of the room. She glanced at Julio. The orchestra leader was smiling and pointing at the seat in front of the keyboard.
Jane gave in and sat down to finish out her part of the hour of live music.
<>
Back in her chair Jane received congratulations from her table mates except for Phil. But his look of pride was congratulations enough for her.
When the music from the tango orchestra began again Phil lifted his eyebrows while gazing at Jane. She nodded and stood to merge into his dance embrace. Phil, taking his one lesson to heart, began the shifting from foot to foot of The Cuddle, the "slow dance" step everyone knew. Then he began The Walk, trying to imitate the gliding cat-like movement that F
ernando and Sofia had demonstrated.
They moved around the floor in "the merry-go-round" till the first piece of the set was done. Then he led her back to their seats.
"Now," he said. "I've done my duty. Everyone knows you're with someone and that he's trying to be a tango dancer. Now, you. Go dance with real tango dancers."
She remained standing as he sat, gauging his mood.
"You sure?"
"Honey, I want to sit and watch and see my girlfriend have a good time. Besides..." He turned to gaze at Rachel who was watching with great interest.
"Besides, I want to flirt with this gorgeous lady. Go on."
Jane sat and said, "OK. But now how the game is played is that I look around and see which men--or women--are giving me The Look."
This particular milonga was trying to go all-out Argentine style. This meant that people stared at who they wanted to dance with. The people who wanted to dance with them gazed back. This let the men get up to approach a woman without the danger of rejection.
There were several men and two women giving her a direct gaze. Jane picked the oldest man. He looked as if he might be an actual Argentine "milonguero," someone who devoted his life to tango.
He came over and bent down to take her proffered hand, nodding at Phil and saying, "Señor." Phil smiled and nodded back and returned his attention to Rachel.
Jane stood up. The man was short and a bit stout and dressed well. He wore subtle cologne with a leather scent. She relaxed into his embrace.
She instantly knew her new partner was an expert dancer. He cradled her firmly but gently, instantly conforming his body to hers and minutely adjusting hers to his. He tilted his head away from her for a moment to focus on the music. Then he swept her away.
As soon as Jane had realized what an expert her partner was she'd relaxed into the moment, letting Robot take over all practicalities. Time seemed to stand still as she leaned ever so gently against him and waited. When his lead came it was gentle but as inexorable as if a tide or a wind had taken hold of her. She surrendered to the moment as the flow of the music and the other dancers swirled around her.
At the end of the set her partner escorted her to her chair and bent to kiss her hand as a way to say Thank you and Goodbye. Jane smiled at him. This was the way of tango, a universal language that let people all over the planet separated by their native languages communicate.
Phil was already with someone else, escorting her to her chair. She was a tall lean girl of maybe 20 years with the look of a ballet dancer. Jane guessed she was a Berkeley student. Jane would not be surprised if the girl was studying some esoteric specialty like physics or economics but had obsessed over ballet from kindergarten or before.
She had met the type at CalTech dances. Often they were Russian, these very bright willowy ballet-obsessed girls whose new obsession was the Argentine tango.
Her next partner was quite young. He might be a high school student from his looks and expensive "street" clothing. If so he'd put in a lot of years of dancing too. He was nearly as expert as her milonguero partner but much into a very athletic style. Jane, who was far above Olympic level athletes in any physical skill, easily followed him--even to the finale of the fourth dance in the set, when he picked her up and spun her upside down to freeze their motion with her head a foot from the floor.
The boy did escort her to her chair but was much focused on receiving praise from other dancers. His spoken Goodbye was perfunctory.
Phil was already in his seat. He raised an eyebrow at her.
She chuckled. "I can't believe I was ever that young."
"From knowing you, you never were. All your stories about your high-school years made me realize that you were always more focused on other people and their concerns than yours."
Tova leaned over to speak to Jane.
"You have just made the acquaintance of one of our Don Juans. He's still in high school but I doubt he was a virgin even at 14. I'm surprised he didn't try to seduce you. He's even gone after a woman as old as me."
Rachel returned to her chair in time to hear her daughter's words.
"Tova! You're not OLD. You're still a child."
"Not so. I'm a roué experienced in the ways of the world. Don't I look the part?" She struck a pose which emphasized her breasts in the silky red of her gown. She looked down but batted her eyelashes at the other three.
Jane laughed, then Phil. "That's perfect!" he said. "Right out of Tango Noir!"
The movie was a minor sensation recently. It was about tango dancing in Italy on the eve of World War II where tango music had long been popular. It was all about the decadent rich and those who preyed upon them.
Her mother said, mock sternly, "Just you don't get your heart set on taking Phil away from Jane, Miss Gold Digger of 1938. He's a real billionaire not a movie one, and Jane is a real soldier. She'd probably take you out with a karate chop."
Her daughter looked startled. "Phil? A billionaire? Jane, a soldier?"
Rachel shook her head. "I forget what an unnatural daughter I raised. If you read the gossip blogazines like a normal person you'd recognize the famous movie producer Phil Newman and his equally famous girlfriend, Captain Jane Kuznetsov."
Tova stared at the two of them. Then recognition washed over her. She said in a small voice, "I'm sorry. You two are so...normal...."
Jane covered her nearest hand with one of her own.
"We're so used to being recognized that we were happy not to be made a big deal of. We thank you. And, Rachel, I'm surprised you did know who we are and showed not the slightest sign."
"Well--" the woman began, then looked up at a man she'd just given the "I'm available" stare back, smiled, and rose to take his hand in the first dance of the next set.
<>
Some 45 minutes later an older woman who had been sitting at the ticket table near the front door approached the microphone. The DJ faded the last tango of the recorded music hour to silence.
"Thank you, Leonard, for your usual job of providing us music. Now we have both a treat and a sad occasion.
"You all know, I'm sure, if you've been around a while, what a fabulous pair of teachers we here in Berkeley have in Sofia and Fernando. What a few of you may not know is that they spend the later part of each year performing. After tonight they will be leaving for New York to begin the next tour of the perennial blockbuster show 'Tango Invincible.'
"So we'll be sad to see them go. And happy that tonight they will be performing for us three routines from that show. I give you--SOFIA AND FERNANDO!"
She turned and pointed dramatically as all the lights in the ballroom went out. Instants later they were replaced by a spotlight from above that showed the couple as they ran into view. The run ended in the middle of the floor where they froze looking in opposite directions.
Sofia was dressed in a tight-fitting red dress that emphasized her trimly athletic but very feminine curves. She was garishly made up and her hair was down to her waist (with, Jane was sure, hair extensions). The dress was cut very low, showing a plumped up cleavage. Her shoes had heels so high Jane thought that even she herself, a supreme athlete, could not without practice walk in without stumbling.
Fernando was dressed in an old-time suit outfit that legend said was worn by 1920s Buenos Aires gangsters. Very like a business suit otherwise, the dark jacket sported a wide white trim along the lapels which continued down the front of the jacket and curved around the bottom. Instead of a tie he sported a white silk scarf around his neck which hung down the front of the jacket to his waist. On his head he wore a snap-brim fedora tilted at a jaunty angle over one eye.
A musical piece started to play a dramatic tango with heavy downbeats on the double bass, THRUMB THRUMB, THRUMB THRUMB, THRUMB THRUMB. A violin began to play atop it, low-pitched for such a high-pitched instrument, saying something mournful. A piano joined in, an octave above the violin, sweet counter to the violin.
The Gangster spun toward the Courtesan and grab
bed her closest wrist, jerked her toward him. She spun into his embrace. For an instant she looked up at him. They the two were off, moving very fast as if racing someone to one side of the floor then to the other, the spotlight following them effortlessly, never leaving them.
The two Criminals performed various athletic and dramatic "steps." Jane admired the choreography; normally the path would be to the left and right in front of an audience in an auditorium. This choreography must have been specially created for what was effectively a theater in the round.
The couple did their final pose and froze. The spotlight went out. When the house lights faded up the couple had scampered out of sight.
"The choreography," she said to Phil, "must have been designed for a theater in the round." She waved a hand at the ballroom with its four walls.
He looked at her thoughtfully. His and everyone else's attention was caught by the ticket-table woman who was still on the dais. She spoke into the microphone.
"Sofia and Fernando will now do a tango vals. While we wait, let me remind those new to tango that the music is a piece written in 3/4 time instead of 4/4 time. This gives a very different feel to tango vals music.
"And again I give you: Gloria and Fernando!"
Music started up, one of Jane's favorite pieces: "desde del alma"--"Out of the Soul."
The dancer's entered from a hallway already dancing. The room lights faded to be replaced by the spotlight.
Fernando's jacket and scarf had been replaced by a dark suit coat and a bright blue silk tie. Sofia's costume was a long flowing white dress such as one might wear to a wedding. Her previous high heels had been replaced with lower white heels.
This dance was slower, leisurely, and very romantic: perfect for a wedding dance. Jane sighed and snuggled up against Phil, clasping his nearest arm in her hands. He leaned over and air-kissed the top of her head.
The dance ended in a simple pose: a hug. The dancers bowed then exited.
Ticket-table Woman said, "The last dance is a milonga. For newbies, this is a tango in 2/4 time. The dance is somewhat like a quick step, for those of you into ballroom dance. Some people think the modern tango is just a milonga slowed down and made more complex. And that this is why tango dance parties like this one are called milongas."