Fall Semester with Maximiliano Cristiani
Precepts of academic tango
I have studied tango for twenty years, learning plenty from those of its icons I have been fortunate enough to encounter—Raúl Bravo, Suzuki Avellaneda, the enigmatic “Pera” and ungovernable “Tete,” and others. But some of the most rewarding classes I have taken came recently, under the guidance of Maximiliano Cristiani and his new partner, Ayşe Gençalp. Cristiani’s teaching blends formal precision with exuberant creativity, rooted in tango’s dialectic of community and competition, yet always open to its evolution.
In August and November 2024, Daria Nikolaeva and I joined two half-day seminars with Cristiani, the celebrated salónero and 2013 Tango de Pista champion at the Mundial in Buenos Aires. His focus was tango académico, a substyle of tango de salón that mirrors the exactitude and emotional depth demanded on competition floors—from the Mundial to ATUSA in San Francisco. But Cristiani’s lessons transcend technique. They are a meditation on tango’s philosophy, reshaping not just how one dances, but how one thinks about the dance itself.
Cristiani began by discussing musical phrasing. Tango music is not continuous; it moves in phrases of seven or eight beats. The dancer’s role is to show an understanding of this structure. There are phrases for walking, phrases for turning, and phrases for pausing. Variations, where the music becomes dense or shifts its tempo, require restraint and precision—not speed. Cristiani reminded us that dancing well means respecting the architecture of the music and, at times, deferring to it entirely, especially during vocal sections. The singer’s voice is part of the phrasing and demands simplicity from the dancers.
He spoke next about the balance between rhythm and melody. Orchestras like D’Arienzo emphasize rhythm, demanding clarity and sharpness. In contrast, Pugliese leans toward melody, inviting broader, more expressive movements. Some orchestras, like Tanturi or Di Sarli, strike a balance between the two, and it is up to the dancers to adjust accordingly. Cristiani did not prescribe a single approach but urged us to listen carefully and decide.
Energy, he observed, must be modulated. My natural tendency to dance with consistent intensity was met with a quiet suggestion: less is more. Lowering my baseline energy, he explained, would create space for dynamic contrasts. A pause, held for an entire phrase, can carry as much weight as a dramatic turn. Pauses allow the music to breathe and give the dance its shape.
The role of the follower, Cristiani emphasized, is not passive. The follower contributes to the dance in subtle but powerful ways. By changing the geometry of a movement, introducing a shift in musicality, or adding delicate adornments, the follower shapes the dance alongside the leader. This interplay is what gives tango its depth and makes it a conversation rather than a monologue. It was this point—not an uncontroversial one—that Cristiani sought most eagerly to patent as his lasting contribution to tango.
Cristiani also spoke about contrasts—not as a list of techniques but as an approach to movement. A linear step can flow into a circular turn. A forward movement can retreat. Steps can ascend lightly from the ground or sink back into it. Rhythms can shift from double-time syncopations to steady walking to an elongated pause. Energy can flow continuously or break abruptly, creating deliberate interruptions. These contrasts are not just variations; they are what make tango a dance of dazzling flexibility and infinite variation—the apex in partner dancing for over a century.
Figures, the dramatic sequences of tango, came last in the lesson. Cristiani cautioned against overusing them. A sacada or enrosque, no matter how polished, should only appear when the music demands it. In some orchestras, like D’Agostino’s, such figures might not appear at all. Precision and timing matter more than complexity. A single, well-placed movement can have greater impact than a series of elaborate ones.
Cristiani’s teaching unfolded like a dialogue. As we left, we carried more our notes and reflections. His ideas lingered somewhere in the space between rules and provocations. Respect the music. Shape the energy. Work with your partner. This was a framework for thinking differently about tango. From my notes that day, I composed this essay.