The Seduction Of the Unknown

Opening night. No high hopes judging by the scarce number of people present. We were determined to have a nice time, dancing or not. As Eva was quickly swept by an unknown dancer, I looked around. I was vaguely aware of a man in a dark suit making his way to our table. A few minutes later, as a new song began, he appeared as if out of nowhere and asked me to dance. I knew it instantly. From his very posture, from the very first sensation of his embrace. Divine. No more, no less. After a few tandas, he walked me back to our table, then disappeared.

We continued having very good dances. It must have been the newness of it all. After the showcase, Eva and I decided to arrange for a private lesson with the chacarera boys that performed (what a better way to learn this enchanting dance). We stepped out of the ballroom to sign up and on the way back we saw the dark suited man carrying a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket into the room. We looked at each other and giggled with regret - how did we not think of that?! Apparently other people agree that champagne is the best companion to a milonga night.

As we were sitting down back at our table, we noticed the chilled champagne and three glassed placed right in front of our seats, as if awaiting our return. Hmmm... Thinking that someone mistakenly took our table for available we continued dancing with a few strangers. Before long we saw the tall man approaching us, then softly addressing us, "Ladies, champagne? It's a night of celebration." Of course it was! Just past midnight, it was already Eva's birthday! But how did he know that?! He asked for permission to sit with us and without delay started pouring champagne. We started talking and we got to learn a little about him. That he was an amazing dancer, we already knew. The bubbles were already making us feel happy and radiant. Eva danced with our lovely stranger in turn. Her eyes were closed, she was in a state of dreamy surrender. At the end of the night, more champagne outdoors by the beach, with the moon shining on us...

He insisted to take us to dinner the next night for Eva's birthday. Everything was planned to perfection. Stunning restaurant with extraordinarily decadent food. Fountains of champagne. Pictures. Slowly we are becoming aware of how all this was coming across. We feel the surrounding glances intrigued by the scene. At our remark that we were probably too crazy for him, he replies with a mysterious smile, "Not crazy enough..." We are beginning to realize what our less of a stranger is after (Funny! Is this every man's fantasy?!)...

Perhaps because of this, perhaps because we had already gotten to know him a little, that night at the milonga the magic was gone. Same dancer, same skill, but with the romance of the unknown gone and with his agenda right on the table, next to yet another bottle of champagne, we felt an empty dance.

It seems the magic in tango is this very special and fragile combination of a multitude of aspects and with even one missing, the magic vanishes, the embrace becomes confinement, the steps just units of movement... Can we define the magic, can we capture the emotion? The closest we got is the realization that the mystery and an anonymous face are key. You don't have expectations, you are at the edge of all possibilities. But after the masks are down and the faces acquire outlines, we come back to reality and disappointment settles as everyone is eager to assume their sharp individuality, vanity, pretenses...

Tango anonymous?