In this post, I translate, interpret, and offer some reflections on a note written by Jorge Dispari, one of the central figures in Argentine tango’s revival. Drawing on my experience as his student, I clarify his reflections on the state of social tango, emphasizing his views on the importance of the walk, floorcraft, and the preservation of certain important things in tango.
Dispari’s Tango
Jorge Daniel Dispari, born in 1957, was a tanguero de ley. A working-class man who raised two daughters who became exceptional tango dancers, he was both a craftsman and a patriarch of the dance. As a milonguero, maestro, DJ, and passionate teacher of novices and elites alike, he played a pivotal role in the resurgence of Argentine tango from the early 1980s until his death on June 21, 2020. His influence extended through innumerable students, including many of today’s masters such as Maximiliano Cristiani and Andres Laza Moreno, who carry forward his legacy of elegance and discipline.
Dispari was a man of intense conviction, deeply passionate about the culture of tango. He was uncompromising in his dedication to its traditions, considering lapses in the códigos of tango not just breaches of etiquette but betrayals of its very soul. Fiercely opinionated, he was unafraid of making enemies and a resolute defender of tango’s aesthetic core, but he also inspired profound loyalty among those who rose to his exacting standards. As a teacher, he was demanding and unrelenting, refusing to tolerate mediocrity. Yet he was, at heart, a gentleman and a generous mentor, reminiscent of eccentrics in other fields like James Joyce and Akira Kurosawa. Like them, Dispari blended an uncompromising vision with a willingness to share his knowledge with those willing to meet his expectations.
For Dispari, tango was more than a dance; it was a culture, a set of values, and a way of being. His teaching and his life reflected his belief in preserving the integrity of tango as both an art form and a social practice. It was this steadfastness, paired with his profound understanding of tango’s traditions, that made him not only a tastemaker but a guardian of its spirit.
I studied with Dispari for three months in Buenos Aires in 2006 in his Boedo and Recoleta studios. There I learned the lessons that still shape my understanding of tango: the importance of the walk, the structure of a flowing ronda, and the necessity of moving with clarity and respect, and the importance of doing things well in tango. For Dispari, good floorcraft was simple—dancers walking in a predictable tempo, avoiding the sin of delaying the progression of the ronda in order to execute fancy figures. His vision of tango was one of grace and movement, anchored by tradition and an unwavering commitment to the fundamentals.
Dispari also shared with me the ethos of the tango danced in the western barrios of Villa Urquiza and Villa Devoto. There, tango reflected the character of its community—spacious, deliberate, and refined. It was a dance of families, well-dressed couples, and a quiet emphasis on elegance. This brightly lit suburban tradition stood in contrast to the more unrooted, frenetic, and shadowy atmosphere of the downtown halls, clubs, and confiterías.
The essence of Jorge Dispari and his partner, María del Carmen Romero, is beautifully captured in their performance to Ismael Spitalnik’s Todo Terminó, recorded by the orchestra of Ángel D’Agostino and sung by Ángel Vargas, el ruiseñor, Dispari’s favorite singer. The video of that exhibition more than a decade ago in barrio Palermo’s Salon Canning reflects their profound connection to tango’s emotional depth, their mastery of its understated elegance, and their ability to conjure rich movements bien porteño.
The Dispari-Pincen Note: Translation and Interpretation
On January 13, 2025, Myriam Pincen, a tango maestra from Buenos Aires, shared an undated note from Dispari to her that she had preserved. Reading it, I was reminded of his lessons, and his words resonated with his trademark attitude. With this in mind, I have revisited his text—streamlining and clarifying it while remaining faithful to his intent. As a former student, this is both an act of respect and a reflection on the lessons he left behind.
In his note, Dispari argues that social tango is at risk, and its preservation depends on confronting two interrelated issues: the loss of fundamental walking skills and the growing dominance of performance-driven dancing.
First, he points to the increasing congestion in milongas. Since the rise of tango championships, the number of participants has surged, including dancers, organizers, DJs, and instructors. However, this growth has not been matched by an improvement in the quality of dancing. On the contrary, many dancers lack the basic skills necessary to maintain the ronda—the orderly flow of couples around the dance floor. Instead of walking fluidly, they disrupt the ronda with complex sequences and stationary movements. This behavior, he contends, stems directly from instructors who prioritize teaching figures over walking, favoring spectacle over substance.
Second, he critiques the prevailing instructional trends. Teaching dancers to navigate in small spaces may address the symptom of overcrowded milongas but ignores the underlying problem: the neglect of walking. Walking, in Dispari’s view, is the essence of tango and the foundation of good social dancing. It reflects not only technical ability but also respect for the shared space and the other dancers in it. Instructors who fail to teach this fundamental skill—and instead encourage sequences, turns, and more complex figures—undermine the very essence of tango as a social dance.
Dispari highlights the historical role of the outer ronda, which was traditionally reserved for those who could dance with skill and respect. Over time, however, this principle has been distorted. The outer ronda has become a space for egotistical displays of skill, often by dancers who lack the ability to walk smoothly and circulate with the ronda. This shift has led to a widespread misunderstanding of what it means to “know how to dance.” For Dispari, the true hallmark of a skilled dancer is the ability to walk gracefully, follow the ronda, and move without disrupting the flow.
Social tango, as Dispari defines it, is not about individual ego but about the collective experience of the milonga. A dancer’s respect for the ronda—avoiding figures and sequences that disrupt its flow—is a fundamental expression of this social ethos. While technical precision is admirable, it is secondary to the ability to coexist respectfully on the dance floor.
The preservation of social tango depends on reaffirming these principles. Dispari calls for a reevaluation of instructional practices and a renewed emphasis on walking as the core of tango. Respect for the ronda is both a practical necessity and a moral imperative. Only by prioritizing these values can milongas become spaces of true social connection, rather than arenas for individual performance.
This clarification of Dispari’s argument is offered not only in admiration of his insights but as a call to action for dancers, instructors, and organizers alike. Social tango must prevail over personal ego if we are to sustain its cultural richness and foster a better milonga experience for all.
Reflections and Paths Forward
Dispari rests in peace, so in lieu of a dialogue, the best I can do is offer humble reflections on his insights. I share Jorge Dispari’s concerns about the decline of walking and floorcraft in social tango. His emphasis on the walk in all of its infinite variety and subtle glory as the foundation of tango—and the flowing, respectful ronda it enables—has been central to my own thinking for many years. However, as tango has evolved, with a diversity of styles and multiple, sometimes conflicting interpretations of very meaning of good floorcraft, it is clear that the world he envisioned feels increasingly out of reach.
Even in Buenos Aires of the mid-2000s, Dispari often complained about the poor floorcraft at popular milongas like Niño Bien and Salón Canning, contrasting it with the orderly and flowing ronda of Sunderland (at least, as he percieved it). Today, crowded milongas and the proliferation of advanced figures in the lexicon of the dance make it unlikely that we will return to the ideal he cherished. Yet I still think there is still room to work his principles into modern practice.
One path forward may be to teach and encourage dancers in the outer ronda to only cautiously incorporate complex figures—molinetes, agujas, enrosques, sacadas, colgadas, and the like—avoiding collisions, to be sure, but more importantly, keeping an eye on the flow of the ronda. Successfully doing so requires more than technical skill—it demands sound judgment, keen spatial awareness, fast reaction times, and a deep trust in and connection to one’s partner. These are advanced but, to some extent, teachable skills. For example, dancers can practice linearizing even basic movements, such as the basic eight-count step, to progress smoothly around the floor in tight spaces. This greatly expands the physical creativity one can enjoy while maintaining the flow of the ronda. Mostly, however, the ability to dance in this way comes from an extensive practice of social dancing.
Another approach would be for organizers to experiment with special milongas designed to showcase the elegance of walking, and little else. These could feature house rules that make the ronda a shared game: no figures, no blocking the flow—only walking, small pauses, and brief sequences allowed. Such events wouldn’t need strict enforcement—gone are the days when hosts booted out patrons who performed cortes—but could function as an easy-going way to highlight Dispari’s vision. They would give dancers the opportunity to experience a milonga where the walk is central, and perhaps even inspire them to bring elements of that experience into their regular dancing. In other words, casual experimention could engender spillover effects that recalibrate things in the direction Dispari would have wanted.
Tango is an evolving art, but its social essence—connection, respect, and shared movement—remains constant. By blending traditional values with modern realities, I think we can explore more options for navigating today’s pistas with grace and humility than we often realize.
The Dispari-Pincen Note, in Normalized Spanish
The text of Dispari, as presented by Pincen, is as follows. Minimal adjustments to grammar and punctuation (i.e., normalization) have been made. Dispari’s original, characteristically reflective of his passionate and opinionated nature, was written in all-caps and with an abundance of punctuation, as he had little formal education or regard for conventional publishing standards. Pincen’s original note is published on her Facebook page.
Pincen:
“Comparto absolutamente su visión de la situación del baile en las milongas. Esto lo deberían tener muy en cuenta aquellos que se acercan al tango y desistir de los “maestros” que enseñan figuras y no a caminar. Claro, es aburrido, lo sé. Es más divertido entretener con figuras que pocos tienen la condición de hacer, pero eso va en desmedro del buen baile. Los que enseñan también deberían reflexionar y preguntarse si realmente están preparados, en conocimientos, para transmitir algo tan rico culturalmente y tan difícil de bailar bien, y no tomarlo solo como una salida laboral. Ahora sí…”
Dispari:
“El tango social no debe desaparecer porque cada vez somos más en las pistas y hay más problemas. Desde la aparición de los campeonatos de tango, hay más gente en las milongas, más organizadores, más DJs, más maestros y más sabelotodos. Esto hace que las milongas sean cada vez más peligrosas, ya que hay más gente, pero mucha menos calidad de baile, tanto en ellos como en la milonga en general, porque no saben circular y frenan toda la ronda haciendo secuencias interminables. Esto es, en definitiva, lo que aprendieron de sus maestros, que tampoco enseñan a caminar, sino que les enseñan a hacer pasos y más pasos, siempre figuras peligrosas o giros y contragiros.
Además, veamos la cantidad de anuncios que hay enseñando a bailar en espacios reducidos. Para terminar con un problema hace falta combatirlo, no continuarlo. Si la ronda no circula, ¿les enseñamos a bailar en un metro cuadrado? En ese caso, los cuadrados son los maestros, que tienen menos ideas que los que hacen los campeonatos. Va siendo hora de decir la verdad: muchos de esos “inteligentes” que comandan los campeonatos deberán hacerse cargo de la muerte del tango.
Las rondas de afuera se hicieron para caminar, para que hubiera circulación en los salones bailables, pero con los años esto se fue tergiversando, ya que los milongueros decían que las rondas externas de los salones las debían usar aquellos que saben bailar. Ergo, allí comenzó el problema: aparecieron los egocéntricos que pretenden saber bailar, y ahora nadie quiere salir de esta ronda externa.
Pero, chicos, los que sabían bailar eran los que caminaban. ¿Se entiende? Los que sabían caminar, sin lastimar a nadie, siguiendo la ronda, que únicamente se detenía en las pausas. Si no, no se debía detener. Esa gente era la que sabía bailar.
Hoy todo se malinterpreta. Por eso, a los hombres y mujeres que usen la ronda de afuera y la subsiguiente: no piensen en hacer figuras, ni rebotes milongueros, ni secuencias interminables de tango nuevo. Recuerden que hay una parte de lo social que no están respetando haciendo estas cosas. Por eso se reclama: ninguna figura en las rondas externas, se camina.
El que no camina, que use el centro para hacer piruetas. El tango es otra cosa y debe ser bien interpretado. Uno puede bailar el estilo que sea, pero sin faltar el respeto. En las rondas de los salones de baile, como en la vida, estamos todos. Aprendamos a respetarnos y exijamos ser respetados.
Hay muchísima gente que, sin saber bailar técnicamente perfecto, baila un tango simple y hasta un poco torpe, pero saben de don de gente y entienden de respeto. Quizás, para esa sociedad milonguera, es mejor esta gente que esos capitanes de las rondas que no permiten circular por hacer figura tras figura.
El tango social debe prevalecer por sobre el ego personal de las personas. Es hora de pensar en una mejor convivencia entre todos y no ver cómo unos pocos satisfacen su ego. El hecho de respetar a los demás nos da el derecho de exigir ser respetados. Hagamos de esto un culto, para tener mejores milongas y una mejor calidad de vida milonguera.”