Here is a brief interview with Norma about her thoughts on tango, milonga and vals, that was recorded and transcribed by Lubov Boyko, a student of Norma.

Vals

For me, the vals is a dance—one that, as I’ve said in many classes, is defined by two key characteristics: continuity and circularity of movement. The roundness comes from turns and rotations. The vals gives a sensation of flight.

That’s why I really enjoy finding and working on strong dynamic shifts in the vals—on the feeling of uninterrupted movement, because there are no abrupt breaks in the vals. I also love when we bring these sensations of flight and infinity into the dance, through the work of the legs or the body—or both—when our movements become very elastic.

The vals has a specific elasticity of motion.

To many people, the vals feels monotonous, giving a false sense of repetition...

But just like in any other dance, if we learn to play with the music—if we start to listen to and feel how the music is structured, what the main rhythm is, how the musical phrases are built—we can find so many playful elements within the vals.

We can dance to the rhythm—1-2 or 1-2-3—we can play with the traditional vals step, we can incorporate tango movements into the vals, breaking it down into its core rhythm or, conversely, make the vals more tango-like in its motion.

 

The musical variety and movement play in the vals are incredibly rich!

Milonga
Milonga, milonga...
Many think that milonga is always something joyful, a kind of constant game.
Of course, milonga can be that—but there are milongas that carry other sensations, another kind of physicality. Often, dancers overlook the character of a particular milonga, and a “learned joy” overrides other emotions—like sadness, nostalgia, drama, pain, or impossibility—other sensations get forgotten.

In my view, milonga always carries a challenge. That challenge may be expressed within the couple, between two couples, or even be a personal challenge—a confrontation with what you feel and what you do during the dance. It’s a moment when we set new goals for ourselves—what we want to achieve in the dance, what we want
to change, or how we want to leap over our imagined limitations.

Tango

Tango, for me, is intimacy and incredible depth. Intimacy in the relationship between partners, and an inner intimacy within each dancer.
Intimacy is when you reach a state you never expected, never even believed you could reach—to feel the dance from the inside—it’s a very deep and intimate experience. It’s not trivial.

 

None of these dances are trivial for me, but we could say that, for example, the waltz is—not freer, exactly, but perhaps lighter, more aerial, more superficial, less dense.

 

Milonga and tango, on the other hand, are denser, more intense in feeling—like life.

 

The way each of us relates to life is the way we relate to dance—do we see a full cup, or an empty one?

Of course, I’m speaking very briefly and compressedly here, trying to say a little about each style.

In all of these dances, we could have one partner dancing in one way, while the other uses a different approach.

For instance, in a vals—one partner might use the traditional vals step, while the other uses tango steps. And then we see a true ensemble of movement.

 

Yes, it’s very difficult.

To achieve such ensemble dancing, you have to work hard, study, break apart structure; you need flexibility, an open ear—but it’s all possible.

And in truth, there is no such thing as a boring dance—if we are able to break down the “four walls” of structure, which we use not just in dance, but in everything.

 

When a person is free—everything becomes more joyful and less trivial.

In tango, communication is established through the embrace. And in this case, the embrace is not just a physical form of union.

Communication through the embrace is much deeper—the embrace demands inner connection. The embrace is a compromise with another person and with oneself—it’s a way to express your truth, your emotion in that moment.

 

The main focus of my work is contact, communication—but also style.
I think now is the time to clarify the word style—what it really means.
If we look at the dictionary, style is a set of traits that define an individual manner, an individuality.

 

So I can say that my work lies in developing each dancer’s style and individuality—so that every student has their own style.

By no means mine—because my style is mine and nobody else’s. Just as any other dancer has their own style, unique to them. Those who copy it are just that—a copy—and most often, a poor one.

That’s why I insist that each student find their own manner, their own style, their own individuality in dance.

 

That’s what I focus on in my teaching. I always try to convey to students that dance is creation, a creative path that requires courage and risk.

It is a path that also contains uncertainty—uncertainty, because you never know what lies ahead, what will come next.

 

And it’s precisely that uncertainty that is part of creativity.
And I place my bet on creativity. I place my bet on the work that leads to freedom, which allows students to grow and be confident in their abilities.

Norma Gómez Tomasi
September 2012