Tango Nuevo

4. Manejame Como un Auto (Drive Me Like a Car)

4 Manejame como un auto (Drive Me Like a Car) Much of the romance of Old Spain still remains reincarnate in the lovely women of the Argentine. It is seldom that an Argentine woman is troubled about the rights of their sex, or any of the more virile notions that have stirred modern womanhood. For she seems to be content to live behind the veil of romance, and to accept as her due the admiration so lavishly bestowed upon her. James A. Fitzpatrick, Romantic Argentina (1932) Argentina and its tango are the third world other that provides a reflection of, and site to reflect upon, the dilemmas of gender relations in Western culture more generally. Amy Kaminsky, Argentina: Stories for a Nation (2008) The role of women? Minimum. They were like our tools to have fun. We cannot dance between ourselves, so we should call women. Yeah, that’s the first thing that was really obvious in nuevo. Well, not nuevo but the thing we were doing—that it wasn’t feminine. We were creating steps like kids, and we didn’t ask the women for anything. We didn’t care about their opinions. (ε) Anonymous Argentine, tango professional, on the role of women in the 1990s investigation sessions that many cite as the breeding ground for tango nuevo Some girls get fed up with following, and they want to dance like a man because they say it’s more entertaining. But I say you don’t have enough time in your lifetime to learn how to follow well. So I would recommend to these girls to really learn how to follow. Carlos Gavito, quoted in Quiroga, Tango Is a Shared Moment (2001) August 2006, Interview with a Tanguero Barely slept. Awake at 6:00 a.m. in mild panic over impending departure from Buenos Aires, complete lack of funds, no clear sense of how I’ll make Merritt book.indb 82 8/23/12 11:23 AM Manejame como un auto (Drive Me Like a Car) · 83 enough money on return to the States to ever get myself back to Buenos Aires, forget about how and where I’ll survive while I’m there . . . or maybe I’m just nervous about my interview with Xavier tonight. Now, after a day of doing nothing—lack of sleep after a night of dancing, too much nervous energy—I’m somehow still scrambling to get myself out the door on time. I’ve no time to buy pastry, a usual offering when I’m invited to conduct an interview in someone’s home, and as an afterthought I grab the bottle of Malbec from the counter. I’m on the fence about this. Is it appropriate for a young female anthropologist to bring wine to her older male informant in his home? Especially if he’s not too much older, according to Argentine standards at least. Moreover, is this too much? Notions of machismo still color social life in ways I’m unaccustomed to, and despite heated protest, nearly every Argentine male I’ve interviewed (over a certain age) has insisted on “inviting” me (translation: paying for me) even though I’ve invited him (to the interview) in the first place . . . this notion of the invitation being confusing. “To invite” is one of those porteño euphemisms that render mundane actions more delicate, further convincing me of the brute awkwardness of American English. Te invito. I invite you. So charming, almost British in its refinement, neatly sweeping the mildest hint of paternalism under the rug. In the end, it turns out I’d gotten all bent out of shape over nothing. ἀ e wine is a big hit with Xavier; his face lights up in surprise at the bottle and then elation at the label. He carries on about this particular year of this particular wine, how foreign investment in the nation’s winemaking industry is revolutionizing production and bringing Argentina full-scale into the global market. I’m convinced, in fact, that this small gesture I’d obsessed and agonized over sets me up for what is one of my better interviews. I also feel myself more fully coming to accept the distinct nature of male–female relations in the birthplace of tango. During our interview I ask Xavier about the changing role of the woman in tango. He responds that the roles of both men and women have changed, and then adds that I am not fooling him with my question. He...