The Ghost

We were watching the videos I took of Sergio & Alejandra (which will remain private, not to be published - sorry folks, but it turned out too dark and grainy) and reminiscing about the conversations we had with them over the weekend, and it was agreed that they definitely have “The Ghost”.

What is The Ghost, you ask? Well, it’s hard to explain. It’s usually called El Duende, The Gnome. But I like to call him The Ghost. Okay, perhaps it’s not really an actual “Ghost” that goes about haunting, perhaps it’s a vibe, energy. Who knows. I don’t know if it can be explained. One thing I can tell you, however, is that I’m sure The Ghost is the essential ingredient in all things Porteño - especially Tango. The Ghost is present in the air, everywhere you go in Buenos Aires. Not just in the milongas, it’s not just a dance thing, it’s everywhere - in the streets, the buildings, the eyes of the porteños, the air, your soul - if you’re open to it. Many people who have been to Buenos Aires have reported that they felt a certain “something” in the air, nearly everywhere they went. I’d say that they were feeling The Ghost.

Traces of The Ghost can certainly be sensed in traditional Tango songs - I wonder if The Ghost is therefore responsible for getting so many people addicted to the music - does The Ghost seep out of the speakers, penetrating our eyes, ears, pores, flowing through our veins to make his way into a permanent place in our hearts? Is it The Ghost that inspires us to move to the music?

Sometimes, when I’m listening to Alberto Castillo sing for example, I feel like I’m not only hearing Castillo singing, but also The Ghost. The Ghost permeates so many things.

I still look back at the times years ago before I learned to dance Tango, when I would listen to Tango music, and I didn’t know what it was that moved me so much, pulling my heart strings at all times during each song, calling me to close my eyes to weep and laugh at the same time… filling me with passion, desperation, tears, a strong desire to move to the music, to connect with someone. I think it’s The Ghost’s fault.

I don’t think Tango can be Tango without The Ghost. I don’t think people can sense The Ghost right away, at least not in its entirety. But it’s there. It very discreetly reveals itself to those who are open to it. A visit to Buenos Aires - if you’re open to it - will put you right into the realm of The Ghost, and it’s impossible not to feel his effects, his energy.

Last night at the practica someone told me that at the past weekend’s Tango Magic festival, they had the realization that Argentines - more specifically Porteños - have a certain “something” in their dance and really everything they do, that we probably will never have, unless we move down there and really soak it up (or unless we’re one of the few who is fortunate enough to just “have” it). He may not realize it but I think he was talking about The Ghost.

As I washing tonight’s dinner dishes, I had Rodriguez playing in the background, romantic and spooky. I was rinsing a wine glass and began to run my finger around the rim to listen to the eery musical sound it makes. After a few seconds of this, I finished rinsing and moved on to the next glass.

This is when I felt It. Someone was there - teasing me youthfully, peaking out from behind things, carefully observing me, causing memories of favorite tandas and love and Buenos Aires to nostalgically flow through my veins. I could feel The Ghost looking at me, watching me to see what was in my heart. The Ghost of Tango, of Buenos Aires… whatever he is, I was filled with many things at the same time - longing, warmth, comforting memories as well as very sad ones…Bittersweet nostalgia… a sigh…

I acknowledged The Ghost, thanked him and turned up the music.