
From Misty's, a Melbourne-Tango combination: Edna Everage and Gotan Project.
This is a discussion about how the spirit and form of tango might surface in Melbourne today.
Like most inner suburbs of Melbourne, Brunswick is embroidered with lanes and cul de sacs. While Sydney Road is a relentless flow of noisy metal, the lanes that spring from it can foster quite particular milieus.
I walk through this lane twice a day. It doesn't seem to have a name. It takes me past the back of a glazier and Greek cake shop. I see evidence of damage that has been occurring to premises around Brunswick, needing replacement. And I am struck by a heady cloud of vanilla as I pass by the confectioners. Quite often, there is business going on here, as strange men do backyard deals.
Then I encounter the Baptist Church. At night, there is usually a Tai Kwon Do lesson going on inside, with half a dozen men in cotton jackets striking severe poses. Around the corner, there's a light that goes on automatically as you pass. It spotlights a corner that must be a favourite spot for relief. Sometimes, there's a strange package there with what look like electrical tools. This is one of the very few vantage spots just off Sydney Road where someone can conceal themselves.
Then it's on to the road itself, to join the normal flow of people and cars.
Is it a tango? Well, there's no dance, nor hint of romance. But it does feel like a trick played against the street, or at least the space where this might happen.
The intensity of tango seems so remote from a liveable city like Melbourne, it's appearance might seem to be left to the strange dank corners of the city.
Taking the Tango to a spatial image…the dance is a person-to-person confrontation; the union of unresolvable opposites, the division of existence into life and death. I immediately think of spatial boundaries and the spatial figures they produce. And in Melbourne, the ubiquitous version of such a boundary is that between neighbours. Its physical form is the paling fence.
The suburban paling fence is at once - like all boundaries - a separation of space and promise of a contact. In mediation, some 80% of disputes involve the paling fence - its actual location, height, shared costs and so on. It is a built line of confrontation, sometimes of a bitter nature. The fence can also be used as a plane where friendliness and cooperation can occur. This can take place over the top of the fence, at its ends, holes and sometimes even through gates. The fence can be a spatial sweetener.
I can envisage some models and drawings of Tango Fences; maybe an installation in a place which would highlight its strange adaptation (to the Tango) or even a kit of parts (or set of actions/manoeuvres) that could turn any existing fence into its Tango Other. To do this I would need to know the Tango moves in actuality, so that the foot sweeps, stops, knee movements and so on, could be translated to fence-making.
Given the knife fight origins of the dance, it occurs to me as I write this that "fencing" is a perfect word for the associations of this translation.
Alex Selenitsch
25th Oct 06