Tango Training

So, in my first few chaotic weeks, I've found a sort of solace in two things.
The first is practice.
The chapel where I've been practicing is a pretty little Tudor-style chapel, with an absolutely gorgeous German piano.  I've already named this one: Ernst Sergei Blüthner.
Hey, it's a German piano, may as well have a German name.
I like my new teacher; does things differently than my other teacher back home, which is expected.  But, we get along, I understand what he's telling me and I'm doing as best as I can to do what he's telling me, so I think once we really get into a rhythm it should be fantastic.
The second is tango.

http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2007/08/06/Tango_070806101419146_wideweb__300x375.jpg

One of the clubs I discovered even before coming to campus was a group for learning Argentine tango.  I liked ballroom when we did it in gym class, plus I figured it'd be fun, so naturally I signed up.
Definitely living up to expectations.  It's tough, but it's a whole lot of fun.
Not only that, but I think it'll be good for my paranoia.

http://meathaus.com/wp-content/images/paranoia_by_filthyluker.jpg
I usually blame that on physics.
I discovered very early on when taking physics that it makes me think (and therefore freak out) about the universe in general, which has in turn spiked my paranoia.  As much as I love physics, I think that's been the one slight drawback.
With tango, I've discovered very, very quickly that the follow really has to follow the lead closely, and to really trust the lead to, say, not run you into a wall.  This is very tough for me, partly because some of the paranoia makes it tough for me to trust folks sometimes, but mostly because I'm stubborn.
I've been stubborn in some capacity for as long as I can remember.  I like to anticipate, I like to know what's going to happen, and what's happening.  It's not that I need to have control, per se, but I do at least like being in the metaphorical loop.
When you're following in tango, though, you really can't control what your partner does.
And unless you learn to lead there's not a thing you can do about it.
I know I'm brand-new at this, but it's already been observed that I "back-lead", I wrongly anticipate what the lead's going to do.  For most people first learning tango the remedy for this is to close their eyes.
I already have my eyes glued shut.
I just have trouble letting loose that restraint, that want to be in some sort of control.  I think once I get over that hump, along with the leads correcting me in my back-leading tendencies, it'll get easier.  Besides, I've seen how cool tango can be.  It's fun, I like it, and I'm willing to work at it.

It's like a card my brother sent to me over the weekend: 

(http://www.fridgedoorpdq.com/images/QC229C1.jpg)

Short Postcards

Dearest Time,
Why must you be so limited?  Why must you go by so fast?
Sincerely, me.

To Mr. William Smith:
Thank you for helping to start a fantastic college.  It's only been two weeks and I absolutely adore it.
~ member of WS Class of 2014
ps- your statue on The Hill is quite stately, I must say.

Queridas Señoras W.,
Tengo que decirse: ¡Encontré a una amiga con ganas para español!  Tiene muchas ganas, y creo que les gusta a ella.  Está loca en las mejoras maneras posibles, y es divina.  Debemos conocernos, creo, cenamos juntos o algo así.
¡Y!  ¡Hay club de tango argentino!  ¡Es fantástico!
abrazos,
~ graciela

To: Time
From: Me
Where have you gone, you slippery demon?  What the heck??

Only Human

Last summer, a local chamber music festival hosted master classes for music students in the area.  My teacher and I decided it would be good performance experience, so I signed up and set to readying some pieces for critique.

            I put in the necessary work, so naturally I felt prepared.  I was confident; playing in front of people wasn’t something I found nerve-wracking anymore.  I did my usual warm-up beforehand, a slow run-through of the three pieces I had prepared.  Environment shock wasn’t a worry; I had played in the space before.  Everything felt normal.

            By my calculations it should’ve gone well.

Preparation can only take you so far, though.

            About two or three beginner students were queued up to play before me.  As it usually happens, the professor running the class overestimated how much time he had with the younger students, and took longer to get to me than I had expected.  I had played with long stretches between my warm-up and performance before, I wasn’t too worried about the lapse.  When it got to be my turn I mounted the stage, sat before the piano, and started to play the Bach I had prepared.

            Sometimes one tiny hitch throws everything else off kilter.

            I barely made it through the piece, having stumbled more times than I cared to count and in spots that should’ve been fine.  The teacher gave some feedback, as expected in a master class, but most of it was basic stuff that would’ve normally appeared in the piece had I played it normally.

He then glanced at his watch and informed me we only had time for one other piece.  This further upset my inner balance: I had prepared to play two other pieces, not to choose between them on the spot.  Throw that on top of my mediocre performance and I was positively frazzled, I couldn’t focus.  The second piece suffered the consequences.

By anyone’s standards, it was a disaster.

I’d never performed so poorly before. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, it just wasn’t.  I felt terrible.  Students are encouraged to stay for the entire class, but I was so disgusted I excused myself early and walked home.  As I walked barefoot through my backyard I couldn’t help but feel sorry for myself.  How could I’ve screwed up, and so badly? I picked my way up the driveway, trying to scrape some consolation together with little success.  As I unlocked the back door music met my ears; we must’ve left the CD player on when we left.  It was almost like somebody changed the track on purpose:

We’re only human, yes we are, only human so far…