Wisdom through the Floor.

Tango StoryTime

Wisdom through the Floor.

A few weeks ago in NYC, I felt deeply moved watching Ines Muzzopappa TangoInes and Corina Herrera dance.

More precisely, their tango walk in the demonstration moved me.

It had been a long time since I'd witnessed such craftsmanship and quality.

The tango walk, the embrace, the music, and the togetherness these are the pillars that make this dance unique and simultaneously magical.

Their walk reminded me of something Dinzel once said:

“We are truly dancing Argentine tango when we feel the same sensation as standing at the edge of a cliff—that sweet rush of adrenaline when facing the unknown.”

That unknown, that shared risk is what propels us.

Not just as partners, but as a community moving together through three minutes of adventure.

Once, a wise tanguera told me:

"A milonga isn’t just a DJ, chairs, and a dance floor."

It saddens me to see the social capital of tango fading beneath the overwhelming amount of steps, drills, and figures thrown at students eager to learn this art form.

Those steps, drills, and technical explanations are replacing the deeper question:

Why are we dancing Argentine tango?

The potential for social and personal growth is being replaced with the pursuit of technical execution.

Technical execution is an addictive drug that hides the human vulnerability we all face the moment we step onto the floor with a stranger.

Each tanda invites us to take part in something ancient and deeply social.

In that beautiful chaos, there is only one solid anchor:

The floor.

The earth beneath our feet.

It’s from there that we must ask for support.

The floor is our calm amidst the storm.

It gives us clarity when the dance has no plan, no choreography, no safety net.

It is where our partner will find us.

And it is where we must find them.

From that grounded place, we negotiate a reunion.

In a close embrace, or open, salón, or old-school style.

Whatever form the dancers build,

it begins with presence.

A real connection to the floor creates a real embrace.

An embrace that invites trust.

That builds togetherness.

That creates that fleeting, sacred moment we all seek in tango, and in life.

This wisdom can not be passed by someone who does not have it.

Being a good dancer does not guarantee that you have it either; it is a step deeper in the heart.

In my years as a tango dancer, teacher, and maestro, I saw few people who understand how to transmit it, because we are few who have it.

You can find more Tango StoryTimes and a curated list of tango experiences I've developed on my website: