Camille Cusumano

. . . and sees the Light

It was fall in Buenos Aires, which is spring in the States. Late one morning, light poured through my two open terraces into my eighth-floor Recoleta apartment. It was the soft but vibrant autumnal light that always arouses such nostalgia in me. So, before setting to work at my sturdy wooden table, I decided to call an old friend from San Francisco who now lives in Dixie.

As we chatted, I told her what had happened to a guy we both knew, who was just jilted.
“He’s really suffering,” I said.
“Oh, he’s suffering, is he?”
She, who shall remain nameless, echoed me sardonically in her Scarlet O’Hara voice.

Tango was on Jeopardy, featured as a category in the first round of the TV game show on Tuesday, June 24. Just as I was telling someone who is not in the “Tango Club” that, yes, tango is like a cult, there it was on mainstream network TV. I felt elated—the dance that is more than a dance was finally of wide-spread interest.

However, my elation dwindled rapidly as I watched the contestants, those ordinary folk of above-average intelligence, all avoid the category Tango the way I would avoid one on baseball, football, or even soccer, sad to say.

Or, how Tango can lead to World Peace

Last century, in the early ’70s when I first went to college and began to learn about the inequalities between men and women, I had the audacity to come home and at gatherings of my traditional patriarchal family, share my raised consciousness.

The changes I thought the world needed went over like a lead pizza. I took a lot of ribbing for years. But what my brothers, uncles, and, most especially, my father, did not realize was that I was talking about men’s liberation, not women’s.

“Lo que a muchos averguenza, a otros hacer gozar.”

“What shames many, gives joy to others.” -Caption to a tiled mural that features tango dancers, Retiro subway station, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Following is an excerpt from Chapter 8. Falling Down and Getting Back Up Again, in my travel memoir, Tango, an Argentine Love Story (Seal Press/Avalon, coming in October, 08), in which I explore why tango is yoga.

Tree Creature in my Palermo Park, Buenos Aires, on a lazy Sunday.

Side street in Historic Colonia, Uruguay.

Gaucho Museum in San Antonio de Areco.

M

My sister, Grace, in front of El Balcon Colonial, San Antonio de Areco

Interior of the little Recoleta church (Nuestra Senora de Pilar) where I take refuge when my Zen temple is closed—and when there are few tourists there.

Lobby of Museo Evita with airbrushed photos of Juan and Evita, on Lafinur Street.

Following is an excerpt from Chapter 3 (Accidental Tanguera) of the upcoming travel memoir, Tango an Argentine Love Story (Seal Press/Avalon), appearing October 1, 2008.

“Stay close and do nothing or you might miss it.” Tenshin Reb Anderson, Zen monk, speaking on enlightenment

Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2006

. . . Tango’s spell for me was gradual, not sudden, but when it hit home, it moved into my life like a long lost relative. No other dance takes you over so completely. More than a dance, it becomes a way of life.

I’m standing left of Christy Cote (her right) or the fifth face from the left (if you don’t know Christy). We performed during halftime at a 49ers game in September, 2005, at San Francisco’s Candlestick Park (known by many ridiculous other names now–thanks to corporate brainwashing). It was in celebration of Hispanic culture and there were other groups performing, including mariachis and folclorico.

I wrote this piece for an editor at Los Angeles Times, but she ended up not using it (that’s show biz). It’s written for the nouveau-arrive, the casual observer, the yet-to-be-schooled in this fine art, but tango aficionados will recognize these venerable dance halls.

Watch tango the way it was born

By Camille Cusumano

Mom’s Cannoli

Yield: 24 Servings

Shells:
3 Cups Flour
1/4 Teaspoon Cinnamon
3/4 Cup Dry Red Wine
2 Tablespoons Sugar
2 Tablespoons Shortening
2 Quarts Light Oil

Finally, I’ve posted some recipes from her cookbook—which is hot off the press ready to be distributed to her kinfolk and close friends.

This is at her table in Annapolis, MD. One Saturday, four of us kids (Jim, Terry, Grace, moi) dropped in and as we sat on her patio she cooked up lunch, below, for us. She served us Cusumano white wine, a Sicilian label that shares our name, but is no relation. Let me add that their reds are better than their whites.

I’m in the process of helping my Mom publish her recipes into a collection we’ll call La Cucina di Carmela.

Just fooling around–this is not the whole collection.

Tango shoe fetish -click here for a video

Omar Vega is giving many workshops starting June 12 in the San Francisco Bay Area — check for details at www.batango.com or www.tangomango.org for details.

Photo, courtesy of TigersTango

This past Tuesday night I had planned to go to La Boca, a tango club in New York City on 54th Street near Eighth Ave. The reason I was going was to interview esteemed maestro of milonga Omar Vega, who’s been living in New York City. The interview had been arranged by Diane, a spokeswoman for Omar. I was dong it pro bono for our San Francisco Bay Area Tango association.