transcendence. tango. humanity.
*small golden sparks from the tango cafe eve
often, after a good bonfire, the ground stays warm over night. an echo that rings through, carrying the sparks of the night well into the back of one's mind, always there, burning bright and effortlessly.
the tango cafe event was a roaring success. we packed the venue- probably the most people ed had to pack into gallery 345 ever (so said he!), and we had dancers- through the entire second half. people got up and chatted, held one another in embrace, adored graceful slivers of human life- against all the roughness and the difficulties of daily life.
i find it shocking to think about one's daily 'required' tasks and how violent and vicious they may be- for instance,
eating: mastication: bearing teeth and consuming living things, pulverizing, tearing, swallowing- covered in mucus (saliva), to take things into long and bacteria-ful digestive system.
excretion: expelling the wastage and refuge that results from biochemical processes that is perpetual and violent; the repulsion is so great that in most civilizations, the act of defecating is almost always done in privacy, the final product being the common subject for both taboo and crude humour.
birth: probably the most traumatic experience in one's life- thankfully we are not able to remember the details, as offsprings.
sex: sweaty, dilated eyes, unsteady and stressful cardiac reactions, copulation's ultimate goal being reproduction *see birth- eeek. can be quite shockingly grotesque.
the list goes on and on.
however, even as we are designed to be frantic and cruel for survival (thankfully, evolution and rise of consciousness/philosophy has helped us to live in relative peace and (if forcefully imposed) order), the very same demanding humanity gave birth to some lovely ideas, such as... well, dance and music in this occasion.
from the lowest class of argentina- a typical western society strewn thick with wealth/equality/political issues, tango was born between the legs of poor immigrants, broke and desperate men and their women, often in low-class lifestyle and occupations- a product of slumming. but through that, somehow, the human conditions- desperation, tension, release, yearning, all these feelings became key ground for a genuine art form of tango.
and hence, we the crude individuals, learned to overcome the elemental violence of life, to create and seek for grace and beautiful escapes, simply through sound and motion.
perhaps i do not dare attempt to learn the dance of tango as it is intimate, graceful, tension-ridden and most importantly, seeks commitment and refinement from the dancers. so i hide behind a big black coffin and manipulate small keys- where i feel relatively safe, to vicariously taste this beauty.
and i did live those rhythms and movements behind the big piano- thanks to my beautiful band mates. and dancers. where the sum of the parts are exponentially larger than the parts themselves- i took risks and played out, with the group pulling and demanding more from me, and to see that collected energy in motion of dancers- aaah. ecstatic experience.
hopefully we meet next week to div up the booties and wrap it up- as we all went back to our daily lives, to catch up on the things weve dropped and pushed back temporarily, to 'enjoy' one another's company on the night of 22 march. i wonder how the week wouldve been for others. i wonder if there will be a next time. i wonder if i will ever get enough courage to get off the piano bench and take a cautious step to the floor (as i used to, with greatest reservation with my great and beautiful dancer friends bryan and ruben, years ago). i wonder if i will get to keep these beautiful comrades as friends. i certainly hope so. and all of this gives me great hopes and dreams about my other adventures- whether it be in music, in people or simply in looking into myself, finding the corners and thoughts that i didnt know of, yet.
how lucky are we to be able to taste the grace beyond the daily grind.
much love to you all,
humming softly to echos of little melody of vieja serenata.
as a small, latecoming part of this dancing creature, i was happy to be inside its swirling, graceful belly, flesh and bits of messy life, all thrown into the bonfire, and left with a lasting aftermath of warm ground!
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