Count one, two and three.
Description of the man’s steps: Advance right foot to fourth position, where it receives the weight (1); cross left foot over in front of right foot, pivoting on the latter with the swing of the left foot, so that the left foot when planted is in anterior fourth position (2); cross right foot behind left (and) step out with left foot in the direction of starting. The travel effected is a straight advance.
The woman’s steps are the converse of the man’s, bringing the couple face to face on “2.”
THE ARGENTINE TANGO
To some people the Tango seems to be an object of suspicion. In a previous incarnation, three or four years ago, it did, in all likelihood, fall short of the requirements for acceptance in Anglo-Saxon ballrooms. Yet, notwithstanding the correction of its shortcomings, or the transformation of them into virtues, there lingers a semifashion of nagging at it. Of those volunteers for its reformation who make specific complaints, no two factions have a point of belief in common; the factions are numerous, and their observations not very logical. Indeed, it would be illuminating as well as entertaining if dictagraphic reports could be collected, of all the discussions the Tango has inspired since its introduction in Paris. Such reports should be given to one of the serious-minded critics of the dance for compilation, with his own comments. “The movements employed in the Tango, soberly viewed as a measure of respectability”—some such title as that the treatise should have, to be representative of a species of misgiving of which expression has not wholly subsided.
It is time that the ghost should be laid, since the Tango is now, and has been for a year or more, a beautiful and irreproachable dance—assuming, of course, its performance in the clean spirit usually found in good society. Any dance can be made suggestive or offensive. So can walking. But that is no reflection on the intrinsic quality of either dance or walk. The measure of the beauty or character of a dance is to be found in the movements which, by common acceptance, that dance prescribes; a rendering that departs from those movements fails to measure those attributes, in so far as it violates the accepted form. Now, a couple of specimens of the movements that bring criticism upon the Tango.
Of its characteristics, one is a manner of touching the point to the floor, the foot pointing straight forward; followed by a quick raise of the foot, the raise accompanied by a turn outward of the heel. The effect is, undoubtedly, exotic; that is part of its charm. It is criticised, however, on grounds of respectability!
One more movement carries this offending step to the attention of a wholly different set of censors. These latter have found no fault with the touch of the foot to the floor in (say) second position, and its raise in the indicated manner. But now, the same foot moves back to fourth position. Just that. The same old fourth position, without innovation or adornment. And thereupon, with all seeming earnestness, the second informal committee of censors protests on grounds of respectability! Why? Is it because, in coming to that fourth position, two steps were taken in succession by the same foot? No, that is not it; it seems that fourth position is at fault, per se.
The character of the objections suggests the existence of an apprehension that an unqualified acceptance of the Tango would be risqué. There is no other explanation for the hostility, under present conditions of the dance. Yet, idle as are the objections, they cannot be quite overlooked. A certain number of vacillators are listening now to one voice, to another to-morrow: however great or small their influence, in ratio to its strength it will tend to denature a product that now has a flavour to interest discerning taste, yet hardly to imperil the weak-headed.
Dropping the above issue, the Tango’s trick of the foot continues to be interesting; this time in relation to the interest of character. The sharp in-twist of the foot is one of the points of individuality both of the Tango and the dance of the Arab. Now, probable family relationship puts the Tango under no obligation to family traits, for the sake of family dignity; that is beside the point. But, in its own interest, the Tango would do well to take a careful look at the work of the Arab, to see that it is deriving equal profit from the same resources. Which it is not. By current usage (in the United States at least) the Tango makes a practice of toeing forward, or even in, to an extent that is not only monotonous, but which robs the quick in-turn device of the value of surprise. The Arab woman, on the other hand, places her feet at a natural angle; moreover, she precedes the sharp turn-in with an outward turn sufficiently marked to give the former a telling contrast. The same is true of the Flamenco dances in Spain. Their superior use of the trick justifies attention on the part of those under whose influence the new dance is determining its final form.