La entrega
The technical meaning of the Spanish verb entregar is "to deliver, to surrender, to give up" and a host of similar meanings. You can entregar a package, your homework, or your virginity.
But in tango, la entrega has a specific meaning. It describes that sublime moment of bliss when a couple surrenders to each other and to the music. When you have entrega, there's nothing you can't do. You become the music, and your partner follows each and every step--the bandoneón, the violin, the bass, each instrument flows through you. You may surge to the syncopated beats at one moment, then suddenly the song stops for a long lyric note by the singer or the strings and so do you. But more than that, you feel that you are in Buenos Aires, that you are a compadrito strutting to the sound of an organito on the cobblestone streets of Mataderos at 2:00am, knowing you won't get enough sleep before getting up at 6:00am to go to work at the slaughterhouse.
Tonight, Kristine and I had that perfect set of three songs. And not the dramatic, stagey Color Tango where I led volcadas, sacadas, ganchos, piernazos, and the works, though that was fun. The dance that made Kristine almost have a screaming O on the floor was a tanda of rhythmic D'Arienzo, where all we did was step in the compás, keeping our feet close to the floor.
God, I miss Buenos Aires.
But in tango, la entrega has a specific meaning. It describes that sublime moment of bliss when a couple surrenders to each other and to the music. When you have entrega, there's nothing you can't do. You become the music, and your partner follows each and every step--the bandoneón, the violin, the bass, each instrument flows through you. You may surge to the syncopated beats at one moment, then suddenly the song stops for a long lyric note by the singer or the strings and so do you. But more than that, you feel that you are in Buenos Aires, that you are a compadrito strutting to the sound of an organito on the cobblestone streets of Mataderos at 2:00am, knowing you won't get enough sleep before getting up at 6:00am to go to work at the slaughterhouse.
Tonight, Kristine and I had that perfect set of three songs. And not the dramatic, stagey Color Tango where I led volcadas, sacadas, ganchos, piernazos, and the works, though that was fun. The dance that made Kristine almost have a screaming O on the floor was a tanda of rhythmic D'Arienzo, where all we did was step in the compás, keeping our feet close to the floor.
God, I miss Buenos Aires.