Nackter Tango

They have only about ninety seconds. The man lays his arm on the woman’s back, she embraces him. Both lean slightly forward, chest to chest. The woman closes her eyes. How does it feel, the closeness? Are her breasts soft and large, or small and pointed, is she wearing a bra? How does he smell? Is he freshly shaved?

Even before the music begins its mournful song, the couple has learned a few things about each other. Now the man takes his first step with his left foot. He shifts his weight back to the right, rocks the woman, pauses. He steps to the left while turning his upper body slightly to the right. Has she understood his signal? Could she interpret his gesture? Is he bold or hesitant?

In Argentine tango it is customary to change partners regularly. Three thematically matching dances, called a tanda, are followed by a cortina, Spanish for curtain: the right occasion to take leave of one’s partner without being impolite. Whether another tanda together follows is usually decided in the first 90 seconds. Does the couple, who have never seen each other before, find a common language in this time? Do the movements flow harmoniously – or does he perhaps lead too roughly or too cautiously?

Tango argentino, probably the most sensual of all dances, works only if the couple surrenders completely to each other. The man leads, the woman follows – which sounds so simple demands openness from both sides. The leader senses how strongly he has to give signals, and the partner places her own steps with minimal delay. She is prepared at any moment for surprises. There is no choreography; from a repertoire of basic elements the dancers improvise in harmony whatever fits the music.

That is how it works, at least, for the couple who are just stepping onto the dance floor for the second time. A gentle impulse and the woman’s heels draw a figure eight on the parquet, until the man’s right foot stops them without touching. A seemingly endless pause, the bandoneon wails, then her shin slides over his, the fishnet stocking rubs over the suit fabric. Barely noticeably he lets her go for a moment, for a brief movement of the foot, an embellishment.

The woman, a little over 40, is laced into a black corset. The tulle dress beneath conceals little. The high heels require a weapons licence. The man, who is just leaning against her chest, seems clearly younger. Black suit, a handkerchief in the breast pocket, patent leather shoes – were it not for the gelled hair, he could have come straight from a British butler school.

He could talk to her, but that isn’t necessary here. He asked her to dance with eye contact, called cabeceo. She didn’t look away, even smiled kindly – an unmistakable signal that the man next to her is sitting there only by chance, or at least has nothing against a dance with the other man. The man’s patent leather shoes have already picked up a few footprints – it is crowded on the dance floor of this bar in a Stuttgart suburb.

“Nackter Tango” (“Naked Tango”) is the name of the event to which Gerd Braun has now invited for the fourth time. The title of this very special milonga – that is what tango dance parties are called – is misleading, but points in the right direction: it is meant to go back to the roots of the danced embrace, which arose in the pubs and bars of the port quarters of Buenos Aires and Montevideo. A colourful mix of immigrants gave birth here at the end of the 19th century, from barely disentangleable influences, partly African, partly Eastern European, first to the more cheerful milonga and later to the often gloomy, sad tango.

In those days it was danced by the unemployed, petty criminals, prostitutes – today the 40 euros admission, the long journeys and the necessary hotel stay of visitors travelling from Berlin, Frankfurt, Hamburg or Munich ensure that the audience is made up rather of homeopaths, teachers, web designers or self-employed people. Outside the dimly lit bar in the Stuttgart suburb mostly middle- and upper-class cars are parked. Since tango skills are among the basic requirements, there are no voyeurs, only participants.

Most of the nearly one hundred guests have come as couples and will leave as couples – added to them are mainly single gentlemen. The female tango dancers, the tangueras, don’t mind, because milongas often have a pronounced surplus of women. Here there are seven gentlemen for every six ladies – so every dancer is assured of a man’s attention. But that alone is not what makes up the appeal of this kind of tango event, which by now can regularly be experienced in Berlin, Hamburg or Nuremberg too. One participant described her impressions later like this: “If I were a butterfly now, I would never stop flying from one flower to the next. Because since yesterday I feel feather-light … I think this is what world peace feels like.”

By candlelight it is – one hears this from the guests again and again – above all about sensing, with the help of tango, the facets of one’s own sensuality. The emphasis is on possibility, which is understood especially broadly here and dispenses with the usual taboos. A couple from Stuttgart, for example, praises: “My wife especially enjoys playing with airy, erotic clothing and being allowed to show herself like this without anyone turning up their nose.” And a couple from Waiblingen adds: “All the eroticism that was built up while dancing could be lived out. Everything that is otherwise forbidden would be possible.”

On the dance floor, first and foremost, people dance. The dancers need patience. Time and again the flow stalls because couples get tangled up in each other. Whether the dance or the noticeably heating air in the bar is to blame: over time the proportion of ladies who dance topless, or even bottomless, grows. On the sofas all around, some are occupied with the physical charms of their chosen ones. In addition a séparée is available, offering all further possibilities.

The magic of this atmosphere probably also owes to the fact that getting to know each other happens here in an especially deep way. The glances, a participant says, are more intense, bolder, more erotic, more passionate than at ordinary milongas. And one should dare to accept these glances, with an attitude of curiosity and adventurousness and with openness to everything one doesn’t yet know.

That is how it went for the tall brunette at an earlier event: “He sat next to me. I only noticed his big brown eyes. They shone warm and radiant. Not intrusive, rather careful and curious. We talked briefly, laughed together, danced, then sat back down. He looked straight into my eyes and said to me: ‘Kiss me!’ And I kissed him. The getting-acquainted was short and sweet, and we have been good friends to this day.”

From: Feigenblatt, issue 23, pp. 82–84 (translated from the German original) · Original German article as PDF (Feigenblatt, issue 23)