First Tango in Buenos Aires

19 February 2016

Last week I met up with friends from St. Thomas who were in Buenos Aires on a cruise.  It was their last day before heading back, so we timed our arrival in Argentina to meet up with them.  Had a wonderful time and I'm so glad we were able to do this!

So anyone else with travel plans, let us know, we'll do our best to get together!

I decided that since we're here in Buenos Aires, I need to take some classes in tango.  This is the home of the tango, and I love dancing.  Don't get to dance enough.  So this would be my Argentinian adventure - learn to really dance the tango!

Just down two blocks and around the corner from our hotel is the Academia Nacional de Tango, the National Academy of Tango.  Also housing the Museo de Tango, and the Tango Hall of Fame.  How could I go wrong?

So on Thursday I went over in time for the 3 PM class.  There are two two-hour classes per day, one at 3 PM and the other at 6 PM.  There are also private classes, but I thought the group class would be fine.  

There are also two options for paying - either per class (80 pesos, which is about $5.30 US), or to purchase a card of ten classes (550 pesos, or about $3.75 US per class).  Since we aren't sure how long we'll be in Buenos Aires, I figured the per-class rate was fine.

Turned out there were four of us in the class - an older man from Vancouver, BC; a middle-aged woman from Argentina; a young man who spoke Spanish and no English, so I don't know where he's from; and me.  

We had two instructors:  Victor, a middle-aged Argentinian, and Graciella, a young woman from the Patagonia region of Argentina.

So, after introductions (which included people kissing me on my cheek, this is just how it's done here although I do get a little freaked out about it!), we started.  And it suddenly dawns on me that the Argentinian tango is NOTHING like the American tango!

I've participated in folk dancing since I was in high school.  I can hora and polka and grapevine and all that.  I attended the workshops for teachers in ballroom dancing, I can waltz as if I were dancing in Vienna in the 1800s.  I can do the swing, the foxtrot, all that.  And yes, the tango was included - the slow backwards steps, the slinky slide to the left, the dramatic side march and back, with the head thrown back and maybe an imagined rose clenched between my teeth.

This isn't that.  At all.

The tango in Argentina is less dramatic and more sensual.  A flirtatious dance between two people who are toying with each other's emotions and bodies.  The man takes a few steps and pauses while the woman is guided through twists and turns and swishes.  He puts a foot out and she knows to kick a foot here petulantly, or slide a foot there seductively, step over his foot, and then delicately move on.  Then a few steps to the side and backwards, and the twisting turning kicking sliding seduction begins again.

We practiced the initial steps.  Embellished on the steps.  I was partnered with the man from Vancouver, and we were guided through the first part of the routine.  And, well, I was told to stop leading and just follow.  Um, okay, I do tend to lead once I learn the steps.  So I had to stop leading.  And then, well, I was told to follow.  Because even when I stop leading, I keep doing the steps I'm supposed to do even if my dance partner forgets what to do.  Because that's my part, right?  (Well, actually, I'm supposed to be the docile woman who follows the guy's lead.  I'm not good at that in life, so you know I'm not going to do that while dancing either.  Oh well.)

After a while, to demonstrate to the guy, the male dance teacher danced with me, and he's a much stronger guide because he knows what he's doing.  Which, of course, made it much easier for me to follow, since he was doing his routine and giving me indications as to what I was supposed to do.  

Anyway, it really was fun, I had a great time even if I was giving this poor man trouble by not being patient while he learned to lead.  I finally told him I thought we just had different rhythms in the dance - I didn't tell him he was too slow, but, well, he wasn't dancing to the rhythm I heard in the music.  Classic Thoreau problem.

We had about one hour and 45 minutes, then it was time to demonstrate what we've learned.  But my partner didn't want to stand up and dance, so I had another chance to dance with the instructor.  Then our two instructors danced together, and wow, it really is an amazing and slinky and sensual dance when people know what they're doing!

I chatted a little with the other woman and the instructors, and then they all did the cheek kissing good-byes.  Headed back to the hotel all set to practice my steps, and ready for a class today, Friday.  But the 3 PM class was suspended for the day, possibly due to the heavy rain we had all morning.  I'll head back on Monday for more dancing.

And I'll try to go against my natural independence and try to follow.

 

Arriving in Buenos Aires

13 February 2016

On Wednesday, we headed to the airport to fly to Argentina.  Richard was wheeling his new suitcase (because after three and a half years on the road, his old one finally gave out), and I had my trusty Big Wheelie.  We were flying KLM because they had a great price on the flight.

Turned out Richard's bag was just a bit over the limit.  But there was a special deal to pay for an upgrade, which included more luggage weight, and was nearly the same price as he'd need to pay for the extra luggage weight.  A no brainer, right?  Plus I had all this leftover Chilean cash, so I figured I'd upgrade as well.

So we flew KLM's business class, and each had a window seat!  It was delightful, and I got some great photos of the Andes as we flew across the continent!

KLM is the airline of the Netherlands - and their flight safety feature film was, well, Dutch.  And incredibly silly.  It was animation, but mimicking the blue on white painting of Delftware, the famous ceramic art of the city of Delft.  I sat there laughing, though no one else seemed to find it amusing whatsoever.  Art teacher humor, maybe.

At the end of the flight, the attendants walked around handing out little ceramic houses, the kind of knickknack that is found all over Amsterdam.  Cute, but not for the life of a rolling luggager.  I thanked the attendant and explained I didn't have a home, so I was better off without it.  (Though I did consider stealing the lovely blue and white dish our fruit tartlet was served in during lunch.)

Okay, so, Buenos Aires!!!!!  As we usually do, we booked a hotel in the old part of the city, right in the center of town.  Things are busy during the week, though now on Saturday many of the shops and cafés are closed and there isn't the crowd we saw during the weekdays.

The buildings are incredible!  Vaguely French in style, decidedly European influenced from the 1700-1800s, and on into the Art Nouveau period, these buildings are ornate, decorative, and still in use.   

Many of these old buildings have little towers on the roof, very ornate, but not large enough to qualify as a penthouse apartment.  I have no idea what these are used for, but will try to find out.  They almost look like dollhouses on the top of the buildings!  I would think they most likely have something to do with either the building's mechanics or water, but I really don't know for sure.

We haven't done much of anything yet.  Our first few days we just walked around, getting a little lost and figuring out our neighborhood.  Finding places to eat, a pharmacy, a grocery store.  Locating the place to change our Chilean pesos for Argentinian pesos.  Important things like that.

We're near the obelisk - and yes, it looks like the Washington Monument.  That's pretty much what an obelisk is, a tall four-sided monument ending in a point at the top.  This obelisk, or obelisco in Spanish, was built in 1936 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the founding of Buenos Aires.  (And yes, you can go inside, walk up some 200 stairs, and look out the top.  We'll skip that part.)

The Obelisco dominates the skyline from certain angles, and can be seen at the end of several major boulevards.  It's the center of the nightlife district, something like Times Square in New York.

This time of year in Buenos Aires is HOT.  I mean, HOT!  Other than the western part of Argentina, in the Andes, the rest of the country seems to be flat.  Buenos Aires, the capital, is on the coast, though we haven't found the beaches yet.  It's humid, and 90-something degrees (30+ C).  The hottest part of the day seems to be mid-to-late afternoon, so we're trying to stay inside at that point.  

Last night we had a taste of the summer rains, with spectacular lightning and thunder, storming much of the night.  Which of course made today even more humid, but at least the temperature is down a bit.  

We're still trying to figure out where we want to go and what we'd like to see in this large country.  The passenger trains don't seem to cover much of the country.  I was hoping we could get to Iguazu Falls in the north, and maybe as far south as Ushuaia - this is the southernmost city in the world, and a great place to see penguins.  

We'll figure things out, and enjoy the city until then.

Oh, it turns out my camera was collecting lint when I put it in my pocket.  So I had to find a pouch or bag made of a lint-free fabric.  I finally found a great little pouch, which probably is made for a mobile phone.  But it's made out of neoprene, so it may also be waterproof, and will float in case I drop it in the water.  Best of all is the design on it - Beatles crossing Abbey Road in the style of Peter Max.  How could I resist?

I'll end with some photos of buildings, and will keep you posted as we explore this country.

A Gift For Chile

9 February 2016

Somehow when I was looking for museum information online, I stumbled upon the fact that there was an exhibit of Botticelli's artwork here in Santiago.  Or at least that's what it seemed to say.  So I found some more information, checked maps, and figured out that this exhibit was very close to our apart-hotel.

I went over there yesterday, to the Centro Cultural La Moneda, the Cultural Center on Moneda Street.  Turns out to be an underground complex with a variety of free exhibits, hand-on art activities for children, a few shops and cafés, and very little information in English.

I'm not sure if this piece is on loan from the Corsini Palace, of what.  The poster says "On our tenth anniversary, a gift for Chile."  I think the sponsoring company has paid all fees for this painting to be shown here, but I'm really not too sure.  (And I can't read the little pamphlet that was handed out, it's all in Spanish.)

And the Botticelli exhibit was only one painting.  A perfectly lovely Madonna With Child - the official title of this painting is "Madonna With Child and Six Angels," although the English-speaking world tends to refer to this particular tondo (painting on a round canvas or panel) as "The Corsini Madonna" to differentiate it from Botticelli's several other "Madonna With Child and Six Angels."  Or numerous other Madonna and child paintings.  Because it is part of the collection at the Galleria di Palazzo Corsini, the art gallery at the Corsini Palace in Florence, Italy.

As with most other Botticelli paintings, it was luminous.  Absolutely glowed from within.  There's something about the way the Italian Renaissance painters handled oil paint in thin glazes, building up color, that seems to trap light and even life between the layers.  Few other periods of art have as realistic skin created out of paint.

It was interesting listening in on other conversations - I only understood scraps, but one man was explaining to his listeners, in Italian, why Botticelli was such an important artist.  Another, in Spanish, explained to his children that the artists used natural pigments and that Mary's dress was painted of ground lapis lazuli.  

I didn't hear anyone talking about Mary herself.  This is the part I find to be most interesting, though that might be the romantic in me.

The "model" is Simonetta Cattaneo Vespucci.  Simonetta was married to Marco Vespucci, a cousin of Amerigo Vespucci (for whom the Americas are named).  Simonetta and her husband moved to Florence in 1470 or so, and the city was enraptured by her beauty.  This was during the reign of Lorenzo Medici, "Lorenzo the Magnificent," and his brother Giuliano.  

Giuliano fell in love with Simonetta, and there were rumors that they became lovers.  Whether this is true or not is unknown.  Also, no one really knows if Botticelli was in love with Simonetta as well.  In 1475, Botticelli painted a banner featuring Simonetta as Minerva, goddess of wisdom, which Giuliano carried during a joust in the main piazza of Florence. It was rumored that Giuliano only participated in the joust in order to win the banner.

Simonetta, sadly, died of consumption in 1476 at age 22.  She lives on, however, in a number of paintings by Botticelli, some commissioned by Giuliano Medici, and painted long after Simonetta's death.  The most well-known are "Primavera" and "The Birth of Venus," both completed roughly six and nine years after Simonetta died.  

This particular Madonna and Child was painted circa 1500; Botticelli had painted Simonetta so often, even this madonna looks like his long-lost model.  Or love.

It's a sad story, and there are all kinds of variations on the theme.  Her fragile beauty seems to have haunted Botticelli throughout his life, as he immortalized her in his canvases, always youthful, always graceful, the epitome of beauty.  With, of course, some of the most gorgeous hair ever painted.

Sigh.

Simonetta is the portrait that all other Renaissance paintings want to be, the woman loved by a city, the muse and inspiration of a major artist.  She will never grow old, and will never be forgotten. 

Even though her life was tragically short, she lives on through the art of Botticelli.  He is famous because of her, she is famous because of him.

They're united forever as they never were in life.  

(Yes, there are some technical difficulties with this painting.  Check out the baby's neck.  Awkward.  I would have asked a student to rework this.  I'd have repainted it if this were my painting.  Botticelli was okay with it.  Even the masters weren't always perfect.)