The meaning of "The 8th Style"

What is the “8th style”? What are the other seven styles?

We often get asked this question. Which is the point. We wanted something kind of vague and mysterious. Now we’re stuck with it.

It all started with a man named Igor Polk, of the Bay Area, who is a prolific tango blogger and passionate researcher of tango history, particularly of the different styles throughout the decades.

As the story goes, after a particularly energetic performance by Jaimes and former partner Rachel Smith at one of the Portland festivals some years ago, Igor, who was hard pressed to place the couple into one of the more clearly defined styles of tango, asked Jaimes what he called his way of dancing. Jaimes said something to the effect of “Uh, uh… I don’t know… uh, it’s just tango, I guess.” This less-than-satisfactory response lead Igor to post Jaimes Friedgen of Seattle as the eighth on a list of several styles, also including Fabrizio Forte and Mariana Dragone in this group, and giving it a loose branding of “martial-arts style” tango, perhaps from Rachel’s famous high and powerful kicks accenting the most emphatic beats in the music.

Igor has since posted many iterations of his “Styles of Tango” list, on which Jaimes has shifted around in order, from 9th to 11th, etc. But Jaimes, having been very tickled by the fact that someone would not only write about him online, but also attribute an entire style of tango to him, has affectionately continued to refer to his ever-changing way of dancing as “the 8th style”. As an extension of this, “the 8th style” has come to mean not specifically Jaimes’ style, but “your own personal style”, one that is uniquely yours such that no one can fit you into a box of set parameters. Chicho dances the 8th style. Tete dances the 8th style. Veron dances the 8th style. La Turca dances the 8th style. Cecilia dances the 8th style. Geraldine dances the 8th style. All the greats of this age and times past have become unclassifiable; having spent years studying others, they have become themselves.

Conveniently, the number eight is significant in music theory, as a return to the tonic in the diatonic scale. In the key of C major or minor, the first tone is C and the eighth tone is C. The eighth tone is a return to the beginning; to the root. Jaimes has always maintained that his dancing peaked at the beginning of his second class, when he knew only the Salida Basica, before he learned the ocho. Since then it’s been downhill, and he has and will forever strive to return to that point when things were simple, clear, and beautiful in their purity. This elegant concept is the philosophical keystone of The 8th Style: the evolution of the dance is inevitable, and to be embraced, but always with respect to its roots, as it is this grounding in the traditions of the dance that give us the perspective to grow into 8th style dancers; into ourselves.

Tango Terminology and Teaching, Part I

The terminology that we use in discussing tango works to shape what we believe about tango, how we learn, and ultimately how we dance. For example, “open-embrace” is a term that innately lends itself to the defining of a style. It has a certain abstract quality, perhaps coming from its oxymoronic nature, that makes it difficult to use as a physical description. The term “off-the-body”, on the other hand, has a preposition built into it, and can much more easily be used as a description of a particular spatial relationship. To “go into open-embrace” has a connotation of entering a whole new world, where the parameters may be completely different, maybe even the opposite of its counterpart, “close-embrace”. One “goes into” a cave. One “goes into” a room. One “goes into” a certain mental state. One “goes into” anything with definitive boundaries. We hope, for the sake of clarity, that the thing one “goes into” has a name that accurately describes the kind of boundaries by which one is about to be encompassed. The word “cave” immediately brings to mind darkness, stone, and perhaps a variety of different connotations for different people, but none-the-less a certain clear and definitive entity which everyone immediately understands. “Open-embrace” gives us no such peace. The verb form of our adjective “open” is quite contrary to the verb for of our noun “embrace”. Compare “to open” with “to embrace”. We may understand grammatically that we are using these words as different parts of speech, but one has to wonder exactly how much of a distinction we make cognitively.

To “come off-the-body”, to “come away from the body”, or to simply “come apart”, all have prepositions that more accurately describe the physical process involved. When using this terminology as we learn the dance, we cognitively practice identifying this physical process and enacting it when necessary. Using terms like “open-embrace” or “close-embrace”, we practice making vague categorizations, that, in my opinion, limit our ability to adjust our proximity as necessary.

In the first four years of my teaching I never used “open/close-embrace” terminology, as I hadn’t yet been exposed to those terms. I knew of Salon,
Milonguero, Elegante, Fantasia, Canyengue, and the then emerging style of modern Salon, which the tango world now calls “Nuevo”. After a summer living and teaching in Portland, and the subsequent winter spent in Denver, I adopted the generalized “embrace” language and proceeded to teach classes that were specifically “open style” or “close-embrace” for the next four years. It gradually began to occur to me that a concept which was at the very foundation of my dancing, that tango is a dance that is very close, opening occasionally to express some epic feeling intricately tied to the music and space on the floor, was completely alien to my students. To separate three or so inches from one’s partner to make space for momentum or rotation is not conceptually difficult. It’s not even physically difficult. To have to transition between two different styles of tango is another matter altogether, especially when one considers the two styles diametrically opposed to one another (which is bound to happen with any simplification down to two categories).
I have since been making an effort to rework my language and teaching to reflect general and useful processes in the dance rather than stratification of style, with hopes that students will find their own way of connecting and sharing the music and movement with each other through the use of the tools that I give them. It’s a move toward creating individual style through the use of these tools, rather than enforcing my own values concerning how I think people should be dancing. Tools not rules. It’s a tricky business, however, attempting to instill a standard of quality without a clear yardstick by which to judge against that standard. More often than not, I find myself telling students to hold their head at this specific angle, and to turn there foot out just so. I suppose that’s human nature; and the creative will be creative, the copiers will copy, and it’s our job as teachers to give them the material to do so well, by their own standards, to their own satisfaction, the end being that we all enjoy tango as an art, a hobby, a community, or whatever it may be to us.

About the Author: Jaimes Friedgen is a renowned tango dancer and founder of The 8th Style School of Tango. Learn more about tango lessons and Seattle Tango by visiting www.the8thstyle.com.

Westlake Tango Bomb

So Friday, a fairly large group of us from the 8th Style did a tango bomb at westlake center. I must say it was the best impromptu tango event I've been too (Thanks Jamila). It is always nice when we can get a group of friends hanging out, having fun, and dancing outside.

We set up shop at the park across from westlake center around 5:30. If you have been there you might have noticed a raised square block that is perfect for a few couples to get up and dance on. Aside from the occational eatting of warm hotdogs and lemonade, we actually danced until around 7pm. It was the perfect day for it too; sunny, breezy, and the pigeons were out in full force. We had, at most, 5 couples dancing at once, but there were around 15 people rotating in and out. There was always someone on display for the masses to see, and oh what masses did we have.

Watching the crowd ebb and flow was also an interesting sight. It would range from 4-5 people watching and then quickly bloom to 20 or more and just as quickly wither back down. There were a lot of pictures from the crowd and just as many questions, which our little flyer team was quick to provide answers for. Things ranging from: "What is that?" to "Where did you learn?" to "Is this a Milonga?" The most interesting part, at least for me, was overhearing the crowds own responses to the questions and how the curiosity spread.

I'm sure will be doing more of these now that summer is upon us, so be on the lookout. You never know when a random group of people will appear in your neighborhood and break out in dance.