Chen has spent countless hours in dance classes over the last four years, dabbling in salsa and merengue as well as tango. But the tango grabbed her heart, striking her as deeper and more psychological than other dances.
“The man is navigating,” she said. “The woman just closes her eyes and lets herself go. She follows this other body that is going to tell her what to do. You are going to receive those inputs that his hand, his body, his torso are giving you, and you’re just answering. That communion of movements is extraordinary.”
Argentine tango differs from the ballroom variety, Lipkin said. Partners grip each other in a tighter embrace, their chests close. Forget the rose in Rudolph Valentin’s teeth, or the dramatized head snaps and high kicks. Argentine tango is made up of small steps, meant for dance floors crowded with ordinary people.
In a tango, the man normally leads the woman through a dynamic, spontaneous set of steps. But a woman can also lead a man.
“In tango, one must know how to lead and follow,” said Dardo Galletto, Chen’s dance instructor. “And so it is in life.”
Chen’s latest novel follows an American woman who travels to Buenos Aires after a divorce and rediscovers her passion through tango. It’s loosely based on Chen’s own experiences, though she is still happily married. She travels regularly to Buenos Aires and plans to open a boutique hotel there, complete with a dance salon, part of a tourist-fueled tango renaissance in the Argentine capital.
A good tango, “is when you have a communion of body, soul, music, notes,” Chen said. “Your feet move in the same way. You’re four legs and one soul. It’s the moment you’re reaching that symbiosis, that harmony of movements. It’s something that you cannot pay to get. It’s something incredible."