songs to travel with
In the 1970s when I travelled (long before internet, ipods and even walkmen) Joni’s Blue was the album that accompanied me. I knew every song and every song had a personal meaning for me.
Now I’m replaying it in my car. And I still love it.
In the 1990s I travelled to the U S of A accompanied by Paul Simon’s Graceland on walkman. It too, resonated.
But now I’m back to Joni. Such longing for home. Such joy – ‘Carey get out your cane’, and cynicism….’…there were lots of pretty people there, reading Rolling Stone, reading Vogue’
Sigh
too smart for your own good
Sometimes the things your mother told you come back to haunt you.
The above heading, along with ‘you think you’re so sharp you’ll cut yourself’ comes to mind.
Today I finally looked up the lyrics of a song I’d been merrily humming along to in the car, thinking it was a hymn to the sensuality of life. Some of the lyrics are here, compliments of LyricsTime.com and Google translator.
The song seems to be about killing someone and the lyrics I thought I’d ‘got’ are really about a haughty tanguera. Sigh.
Malevaje
gracias tango salon adelaide
So, returning to the initial question. Sadly, in some respects, too much musicality in the dance is indeed possible. The intellect should not dominate the dance, whether it’s by over-analysis of the music, or attempts to reproduce certain “steps”. Anything resulting in a stilted and contrived dance, will be in conflict with social tango
beat it
Angels. Used via cc attribution licence from Hermione Presents. http://www.hermione-presents.com
You and I travel to the beat of a different drum….
So sang Linda Ronstad in the 1970s.
And so, perhaps, might my tango teacher.
It’s caused me to reflect on how people listen to music.
So, I’ve loaded up my car and home stereos with wall to wall tango. And I notice how much happier I am when something with lyrics comes along, although I am fond of tango waltzes.
When there are no words I feel myself drift away to several other things, but words, even Spanish or Greek, make me alert. In tango of course words like corazon, suenos, recuerdo, solidad enable guesswork and the songs tend to be about my heart recalling the dreams of yesteryear and the memories of lost love.
It’s why, I realise, I prefer opera to instrumental music and can usually catch a word or two about passion, living for love or art and so on.
So, I’m back trying to listen to the music. But with a singer I am imagining the dance to the voice not the beat underneath.
It’s not that I don’t hear the rhythm, and thought (clearly erroneously) that I was getting much better at hearing it and at waiting (even attempting a small adorno) for my partner to pick up the beat and move me along (or backwards usually).
So – leave aside the melody and listen to the beat. OK I will.
wandering welly
It was one of those situations when each of thought the other had bought the tickets, and the creeping old age and memory (or perhaps I was just busy at work) made me completely forget what I had said I’d do and the email on Monday saying I was not able to get tickets didn’t get through. So after an excellent coffee at Caffe Italiano we went to find Manky Chops Gallery. Which we did.
To be honest I was more intrigued by the name than anything else. And to be even more honest we found the door only. But I did talk to the lovely woman in the second hand shop next door who explained where to find Mighty Mighty. You can tell that these names are intriguing to me, but there are also associations with two of the nieces (one talked about one and the other sometimes plays at the other).
We wanted to find Mighty Mighty because we were off to the Dr Sketchy session there. Dr Sketchy? You go along with your sketch pads and pencils and several burlesque queens (no, real women, not ‘queens’) pose for various lengths of time and people sketch them. It’s like a life drawing class but more fun. Music plays and women pose and people laugh.
By the time we got there (at last) it was sold out, so we perched on the bar stool and watched the clientele and, through the curtain, the life drawing class. We ended up in conversation with the bar owner who is a feisty, friendly woman. That night an opera experience called ‘operaorgasmic’ was due to play. The place was full of an interesting and friendly crowd.
After a while we wandered up the street to the Buenos Aires Tango bar, had a glass of red and listened to the young tango/Spanish players. We seemed to be the only non-Spanish speakers there as the place was full of people singing along to their favourite songs.
And then I went home for a nana nap and off to the milonga. And that’s another story.
It was fun wandering Welly.
And I completely forgot about my great nephew’s 21st. Bugger.
thanks heaps, amazon
Another online shopping experience that was easy and sweet.
And a chance to wonder if I should buy High Noon too. Remember seeing that many many years ago. Er Perhaps not the first time it was released – that would have been a minor miracle- but hmmm certainly in the 60s.
nieces
There’s a joy in being around the nieces and their friends and their enthusiasms.
This weekend I attended Daisy’s 25th party which was great. Two oldies with a bunch of 25 year olds – very good. Then on Saturday I was on the door for Hannah’s gig at Paekakariki. It was a lovely warm, gig with the beautiful voices of Ariana Tikao and Naniko. Hannah and Ben Woods are a sweet combination.
birds on wires
Ahh Aaron.
While I’d like to write about the elections in the UK, the news about the online serial rapist in Auckland (constructed identities there) the new Sri Hvsetd book I am reading or the newly apprised tango tikanga the thing that’s in my mind is the odd behaviour of men. This excludes all nephews, 50 % of former lovers, close friends, husbands of friends and gay men.
Yes ok it’s the internet again. I remember when I was a teenager I used to think that men in NZ were damaged because of the war years. Then I met some great friends and some men with some damage. And now, through the internet, I have met some truly damaged men. Why is this? What’s wrong? Does the internet allow for us to connect in a deeper way so that they share stuff? I’m still exploring this and don’t know the answers and won’t go on. I have also made some good and funny friends. But weighing up? Odd behaviour.
The song? It reminds me of a fantastic concert I went to in the 1980s (we sang along with the Brothers in the hotel afterwards) and a trip I took with a former student who loved this song when I played it to him. Where is he now? Ah yes, inside for murder. Sigh.
Thank god for tango. Crippleness? We think the arthritis is returning. Better make lots of hay while the sun does its thing.
Greek tango……
Where are you really this evening when I am feeling lonely, so lonely, when I am feeling overwhelmed with sorrow. Where are you really this evening, that strong winds make me shiver, I wish you’d come and make me feel with a hot kiss as if summer has come.
May you come for a while , just for one evening to brighten up my horrible darkness and hold me tight in your arms . May you only come for a while and then be gone.
My sincere and heartfelt thanks to Anastasio Franco who gave me this translation on youtube.
