18. Tango, Pt. 1: The Compulsories

The tango is so ingrained over nine decades of ice dance that in terms of sheer scope, it's too daunting to tackle as a single post. And so we'll begin instead with the fundamentals of tango on ice -- and progress from there.

It's lent its stylings to two senior compulsory patterns, arisen in five seasons for original dance usage -- and once as a secondary short dance rhythm, one of those topics we'll discuss at another time -- and otherwise functioned as the focus of countless more free dances. Of all specific partner dances, none can be more relied upon to appear annually than the tango.

The Argentine Tango compulsory, and its fellow far rarer Tango compulsory, date to that 1930s spell of compulsory development, as the two-decades-long craze for organized partner dance hit the ice. The Argentine tango proper had in fact become something of an international sensation in this period, making this a reasonably timely adaptation -- though, ironically, concurrent with the dance's temporary decline in its actual South American homeland.

The compulsory dance is meant to emulate its counterpart with "sinuous" quality, "skated with strong edges and considerable elan." It's tough to be sure which specific Argentine tango should best inform a skated pattern; certainly distinctions can be noted just between Argentine dance as a genuine street dance and the polished show style presented by professional champions Flavia Cacace and Vincent Simone:



Yet another example would come via the fairly formalized competitive level of Argentine tango, though such examples as available on YouTube are hit and miss in terms of either video quality or video-friendly dynamism as compared with other types. Regardless, what tends to separate street from stage and floor is that more casual quality; the footplay and ganchos are present, but the hold is a bit looser, the pace a bit more spontaneous. This basic tutorial video covers some primary figures and steps; Wikipedia is useful for a more detailed overview of movements you'll easily recognize.

The Argentine compulsory is strikingly different from the dance by immediate means of its frequent open, non-face-to-face hold; a related lack of footwork interplay also signals the distinctions. But in sections like the interdependent steps from 0:54-0:56 and 1:28-1:31 in this skate from Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat, there is some sense of tango's footwork:


But it's a very rare Argentine compulsory that includes a touch of in-pattern embellishment to reference the dance's footplay -- and fittingly, it comes in the last-ever skate of the pattern at an elite senior event:


Watch those feet at 0:53 and 1:28; you won't see those motions in other couples' presentations, and it's no accident here.

The other major tango compulsory, the Tango Romantica, was born of Ludmilla Pakhomova and Alexander Gorshkov's 1973-74 original set pattern dance. No video appears to exist of the dance as competed, but this very early 1980 compulsory outing from Natalia Linichuk and Gennedi Karponosov -- coached, as noted by commentator Debbi Wilkes at the top, by Romantica creator Elena Tchaikovskaia -- demonstrates how significantly the formal trappings of '70s and early '80s era ice dance suggests the feel of ballroom tango far more than Argentine:


While a multiple-compulsory-per-event need for versatile costuming helping to preserve this ballroom aspect well into the '90s, as demonstrated in 1992 and 1996, things began to shift in the IJS era. And by the compulsory's final outing at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, here skated by segment leaders Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, we can see how much the Argentine "feel" had slipped in despite no change to the pattern proper:


Next time: The Choreographed Tango

12. Foxtrot

Where foxtrot meets ice, the primary takeaway should be less on specific steps or even hold or frame, and more on a general rhythmic quality; the dance is marked by its slow-slow-quick-quick pattern, creating a sense of rise and fall that, when done well, can be reflected in a program.

What's particularly of note where the foxtrot is concerned is its two strands of history. While today it's classified as a standard ballroom dance, it originated as a product of the popular successes of vaudeville -- attributed in its barest form to namesake showman Harry Fox -- and performance ballroom exemplified by Vernon and Irene Castle, trendsetters of the gradually emerging Jazz Age (seen here performing their own namesake Castle Walk). The dance that began as an emblem of the ragtime era would, however, with the passage of a little time and a migration overseas, become refined in that ballroom-crazed period of 1930s Britain that also saw the development of the foundational compulsory ice dances -- including, but naturally, the foxtrot, demonstrated here. This new "slow foxtrot" essentially supplanted the jazzier social style from which it originated, rendering the dance somewhat more staid in perception than is necessarily true to its essential spirit and fairly adaptable rhythm.

To establish some footing in what's currently understood by a social but still fairly formalized approach to foxtrot, this tutorial provides a quick and clear visual breakdown of the basics:


Confusing matters slightly, slow foxtrot may be synonymous with foxtrot overall -- as separate from quickstep, originally a variant of the dance -- or may refer to a specific subgenre of foxtrot. The ISU, for its part, has distinguished between the two, and while a quicker-paced foxtrot ruled the day this season and in others (as demonstrated in 2001 by Marina Anissina & Gwendal Peizerat) most original dances from the 2004-05 season utilized the slow rhythm, including -- and pay attention -- this one from then-juniors (and national seniors) Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, a particularly solid demonstration of hold-heavy foxtrot.

And from the history page linked above, let's also take a moment to note the described "theatricality" of an American take on the form -- and that the couples covered in the previous entry here all utilized a foxtrot rhythm in their season SDs.

And while most teams this past season did incorporate the foxtrot, as suggested by those theatrical examples and many others, fewer programs focused in on a more traditional ballroom-oriented interpretation. This dance from Maia & Alex Shibutani is, however, one of the clearer, playing to the team's strengths:


The slow-slow-quick-quick pattern is discernible here, especially at the top of each foxtrot segment; the choreography from 0:34-0:38 is a little like a promenade. The sense of lilt is apparent in their second foxtrot section particularly, with a notion of rise and fall, if less of sway.

But least common of all was reference to foxtrot's initial roots, and to explore those, let's first set the stage with a look at the real thing in the 1920s and 1930s. The comparison is instructive; while the 1920s clip retains a jazzy sensibility, that of the 1930s suggests a smoother, more standard ballroom interpretation:



A few teams elected to call back to that early-mid-century feel, though in varying degrees of faithfulness to actual dance movement. The Charleston-inspired short dance from Danielle O'Brien and Gregory Merriman nicely utilizes its middle foxtrot rhythm (beginning at 1:55) in terms of bounce and sway, though the openness of hold outside of the midline step sequence distances it from its floor forebear:


And after their youthful take on the ballroom-based slow foxtrot, Virtue and Moir elected to travel the jazz club route with this Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong program, which wraps its quickstep middle with two foxtrot sections:


Again, the concern is more general feeling than specific translation, but the in-hold moments present something like a heightened conception of the real thing, performance more than a direct presentation, particularly with several early sequences, and the bulk of the "Cheek to Cheek" section, marked by rise and fall but also a quite nonstandard degree of flash. But compare also the interplay of the no-touch midline step sequence to the responsive steps of the traditional dance, with the step-back/step-forward slow-quick rhythm suggested a bit by the patterns and rhythms carved out as one partner seems to move more in reaction to the other than out of any simple choreographic scheme. The attitude of reaction and response is what grounds the rise and fall here.

Among the spectrum of fundamental dance styles, foxtrot poses more difficulty than most in its move to the ice -- its composition so rooted in actions so incompatible with both the physics of skating and the requirements of competition that isolated elements and rhythms must take precedence here. But that flexibility of tempo and rhythm also makes its application as a secondary rhythm -- an addition to a quickstep or waltz or other standard ballroom form -- certainly points to its overwhelming popularity of use. The result, though, is a style that can lose its identity in ice dance form; those references, then, to its primary roots are all the more unique.

10. Quickstep and Finnstep

The quickstep compulsory, like most compulsories of its era, found it appropriate to substitute the face-to-face dance hold of its floor inspiration with kilian. Where the dance calls for a standard 4/4 time signature, the compulsory is in 2/4 time, making the task of music selection a little more challenging than simply seeking out any designated Standard Quickstep CD. This technical step-by-step video breakdown of the quickstep, courtesy of the ISU, is a useful visual resource and, paired with this short lesson on Standard quickstep, reveals indeed very little overlap at all between genres: while a case can be made for straightness of frame, there is no readily apparent commonality between steps or general rhythm and pattern of movement. This is, in essence, another case of the r(h)umba.

Nevertheless, the dance's emphasis on quick, light movement is at least suggested in strong compulsory performances, such as this first-place rendition from Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat at the 2002 Olympics:


And, as the foundation of this season's junior short dance, choreographers and teams have made an effort to surround the perhaps questionable pattern with footwork and holds more reflective of the heritage, as in, for one very successful example, this from Kaitlin Hawayek and Jean-Luc Baker:


But now that it's been established what quickstep is not, it might be instructive to take a little more time to consider what it is. The style is of the Jazz Age, having developed from the foxtrot -- a quicker-paced version of such -- as well as the Charleston and other more specific vernacular dances of the day. Some historical detail is offered here, while this page provides a solid breakdown of the style from a technical angle. Speaking in the most general sense, the dance will be marked by the pace and patterns of its footwork, including elements like hops, runs, and kicks, and a basis in syncopation -- another legacy of its jazz heritage.

This demonstration of both basic and advanced patterns is a useful reference, particularly the advanced pattern beginning at 1:20:


While truer quickstep elements have been incorporated into programs using a quickstep rhythm (see, for example, much of 3:33 and on in this 2011 free dance from Maia & Alex Shibutani), for the general purposes of ice dance, a far better comparison can be drawn between real quickstep and the compulsory pattern that in 2008 supplanted its skating counterpart version for senior dancers: the Finnstep, also the foundation of this season's senior short dance. Created as Finland's Susanna Rahkamo & Petri Kokko's 1994-95 Original Set Pattern dance, it is far more boisterous and open than either a compulsory or Standard quickstep, but also carries through some degree more of the latter's spirit and technical nuance:


Consider, for example, the very familiar sequence from about 0:43 through 0:55 alongside the run from 1:46 through 1:52 in the above quickstep video. The holds vary, the quickstep incorporates more turn, but the approach of the footwork is far more comparable. What is attempted on ice with the Finnstep's deliberate hops and short steps versus more sustained blade runs can much more readily be perceived as an authentic attempt at translating quickstep.

This season's short dance and its multiple manifestations will be explored in greater depth with the next few entries here, as its optional paired rhythms -- foxtrot, Charleston, and swing -- are considered along with thematic and stylistic subgenres utilized throughout certain programs.

6. French Dance

Among the less direct approaches taken to this season's Yankee Polka is the Gallic route: the polka lends itself rather intriguingly to French style. And for more than one established team this season, the polka recommended itself to the can-can.

The can-can itself descends directly from the appropriately 2/4-timed galop, a popular nineteenth-century European country dance which itself would later give rise to the...polka. After a spell as a social dance, the can-can's flashier aspects would lend itself to its development as a performative style, a good demonstration of which is offered in this vintage clip:


Notice the splits, please, as well as Offenbach's "Infernal Galop," the musical selection so synonymous with all things can-can that it's referred to by the dance's name more often than not.

While this video gives us the most classic of classical can-can, of note was the social, coupled nature of its earliest incarnation, with men and women performing the dance's assorted splashy movements in concert. While video of this take on the floor dance is difficult to locate, the general idea, one might guess, lives on rather well in Kharis Ralph and Asher Hill's take on the style, which is preceded by an appropriately bubbly take on Gigi. From 1:54 onward, Hill's movements, from high kicks to even more, match Ralph's to an almost startling degree:


Of course, the traditional French can-can is the centerpiece of Nathalie Pechalat and Fabian Bourzat's "Moulin Rouge" dance (performed here for the Parisian Trophee Eric Bompard audience), wherein the partnered aspect is less about a shared performance and more about a patron's flirtations with a music hall dancer. Traditional skirt choreography, little utilized in Ralph and Hill's more couple-oriented piece, is a major above-the-blade component of this can-can:


As a sidenote, the slowed-down rendition of Offenbach's piece accompanying Pechalat and Bourzat's Yankee Polka sequences is indeed but a slowed-down rendition of the "Infernal Galop." But at least it isn't this.

The audience-grabbing appeal of the can-can notwithstanding, however, another couple demonstrates that there's more than one way to de-Yankeefy the Polka.

The bal-musette might be the main source of inspiration for any French-themed program that tackles a social rhythm like waltz or polka and aesthetically calls back to the late nineteenth through mid-twentieth century. This was the angle taken by a team like Delobel and Schoenfelder in their 2010 Olympics original dance, an interesting little bridge piece between the waltzes and the can-cans. And if the genre reached its peak popularity in the 1940s and '50s, then Alexandra Paul and Mitch Islam's Edith Piaf-scored waltz/polka might be considered the ultimate heydey of bal-musette kind of program -- even if Piaf isn't often associated with social dance.


One irony is the fact that Piaf's waltz "La Foule," which kicks off Paul and Islam's SD, is actually a cover of Peruvian vals "Que nadie sepa mi sufrir." Piaf's rendition, though, adjusts the pacing and substitutes in more traditional bal-musette instrumentation, transforming a South American tango cousin into essentially a sprightlier version of French musical waltz (compare with "Padam Padam" or Madison Chock and Greg Zuerlein's 2010-11 use of such).

What makes for a sprightly French waltz song, however, is a little different from what typically may accompany a French valse dance. YouTube's pickings are slim, but a few moments with the valse musette or the folk waltz are reasonably instructive:


Here we come again to the interesting quandary of competitive skate versus traditional floor dance, and the valse musette as demonstrated in Jazz Age-era clips is possibly even less compatible with the demands of an ice dance program. The rotations at 0:56-0:58 and 1:42-1:43 in Paul and Islam's program above might be the closest approximations to valse musette movement, with allowance made for physics and a slightly more laidback tempo. Certainly, the greater part of a short dance is concerned with the inclusion of required elements; while a country-western program, for example, can borrow from that style's vernacular in a variety of ways, the valse musette is, as can be seen, a fairly repetitive dance. Paul and Islam's program holds together tightly -- and is probably a stronger waltz, with its emphasis on closed holds and close skating, than many others calling upon that rhythm -- but its style may be less traditional French dance and more idea of French dance. It's not at all a choreographic parent, but there's a certain theatrical stylistic sensibility just a little reminiscent of, say, a French-set musical.

5. Country Western

To resume a lesson as though several months hadn't passed: the 2/4 tempo can be found in more than one musical -- and dance -- genre. And one utilized by a few teams this season is that associated more with a honkytonk than Oktoberfest.

This history of Country-Western dance in fact emphasizes the polka heritage of country dance, traceable to the Central European heritage of many settlers in Western areas such as Texas. This glossary gives a little more useful detail on the actual movements of today's dance and its substyles. Naturally, the Yankee Polka step requirements proscribe any team from fully adapting the rhythmic requirements to another genre; every dance will share the pattern and carry a little polka flavor. But careful music selection and cohesive choreography can greatly minimize the disruption potentially offered by the compulsory.

Lynn Kriengkrairut and Logan Giulietti-Schmitt made a particular effort to incorporate floor stylings -- check out the skips in the program's first four seconds:


Though the overall performance was one of their weaker of the season -- better outings from Skate America and the U.S. International Figure Skating Classic are not readily available -- for choreographic purposes it will do well enough. The first minute takes some two-step inspiration, while the changes of hold reflect a little taste of the shuffle:


For another taste of CW dance on the floor, a number of instructional videos are available, but also miss a bit of the flavor. This lesson is rather less formal, but it might be among the most authentic tastes of contemporary CW dance on YouTube:


Akin to that informality, Nicole Orford and Thomas Williams's take on CW is a little grittier in style than Kriengkrairut and Giulietti-Schmitt's, taking on a bit of the stomping rodeo feel reflective of William's native Calgary:


The transition movement from 2:17-2:22 works effectively as a free-feeling break -- it's choreography, but it appears more like an incidental element. They sell it, they're loose, and they've got the right spirit.

On a final note, one might recall that a few top teams took a CW approach to 2009-10's folk dance OD; worth observing is the significant differences in pieces like Evan Bates and Emily Samuelson's Dixie Chicks medley and Pechalat and Bourzat's own take from the above short dances. While both programs have an obvious CW feel, they're also arguably a bit more open in movement and theatrical in style. The Yankee Polka and rhythmic requirements may have forced certain choreography, but at the same time seem to have had the intriguing effect of establishing programs that bear a slightly closer resemblance to their floor forebears.