I have been learning Japanese, and the process made me think about how complicated learning tango can be. Tango is a language, and being able to communicate effectively takes time and effort.
Learning a language
I enjoy learning languages. I know that it is possible to get around in a foreign language and country while making mistakes. If you can communicate, you can get by. On the other hand, I have made colossal errors in terms of miscommunication because of lack of fluency. Some have been funny, but others were deeply embarrassing or distressing.
I have studied eight foreign languages, and (except for Latin) used them living abroad, researching, and just traveling. Three have required unfamiliar writing systems. Japanese is the only one where I have had to learn both a syllabary (two of them!) and pictograms. I look back with affection on the other languages, where I only had to learn to write one way!
As a former English teacher, I can identify parts of speech, memorize verb forms, learn word order, and figure out the gaps in my grammar to build my skills. However, trying to memorize pictograms has brought up a new issue: I memorize the shape and attach the ENGLISH translation to it. I have absolutely no idea what the Japanese sounds are that go with that picture. One more layer of complexity!
Tango as a language
Tango strikes me as a complex language where you must juggle several elements at the same time while achieving adequate fluency quickly. After all, there is not much room for mistakes as we dance close together. In addition, there are many elements in an improvised dance: navigation, what your partner is doing, what they are trying to communicate in their own dance, and the music. Because I have “spoken” tango for thirty years, I can dig into all the layers and combine them with little effort, but I also try to improve my skills as I go along.
To compare it to Japanese, you have steps to learn. Each kind of step has a name, like a syllabary has a sound per character. These steps can be put into “words” in different orders. For example, you can walk to the cross to begin a sequence of steps, or you can do a long combination and finish by walking to the cross. You can reverse moves.
The “grammar” of tango can be complicated by the fact that it is improvisatory. Steps may make more sense after specific other movements, but in theory, they can fall anywhere in a sequence. You can’t look for the verb and work the pattern out from there. This may be why dancers execute the same combinations repeatedly: they have learned “sentences” that mostly work and avoid expanding their language because they might make mistakes.
And then there is the music. To me, this is the pictogram part of the language, offered in an auditory rather than visual form, but already complete, established, and waiting for you to recognize and know what lies within that entity. You can “know” the music without being able to connect it to the other parts of the language equation. To connect it takes time and effort.
Do you speak pidgin tango?
Then there is the partner. You speak your own tango dialect, and your partner speaks another dialect (theirs). You can’t speak exactly the same language because you have two brains, two bodies, and diverse ways to react to music. How do you communicate and work together?
I like to think of this as pidgin tango. You have landed from another trading island and need to connect and dance successfully. Both of you need to be willing to explore unknown “words” and “grammar” and cobble out a mutual understanding of the music and the space available to you. If that happens, both of you gain from the interaction.
Do you tend to just yell louder like the quintessential American tourist nightmare? Or do you slow down, enunciate, and listen carefully? Which works better? :-)
Good luck with your language acquisition, uh, tango!