Modern Tango World N° 8 (Moscow, Russia) | Page 33
The Other Night at La Viruta
Daniel Pereyra
What better way to immerse yourself in the underground of La Viruta than on an evening created by the
famous orchestra Otros Aires.
I began to go to La Viruta about six years ago, when
the milongueros in my native Montevideo had repet-
edly recommended it. They had been going continu-
ously to dance there. It made me curious. At the time,
I was dancing and taking tango lessons.
So, one day I gave in. ... I went to the capital of Argen-
tina. Although I lived in the north, I knew that at any
moment, I would go to this gran milonga porteña. But, I
did not know, and it was not in my plan, to fall in love
with this night club.
On one Friday, I had the great opportunity to go inside.
Would be be all that they told me?
I entered a huge hall. Nothing indicated that there was a
milonga and yet the sound came from below. I followed
the sound where it went. Then, I saw the steep staircase.
With each downward step, the sound became more in-
tense. really I enjoyed this. I began to feel that my night
would fill my senses.
At that time, the box office presented you with a win-
dow full of tango CDs. The discs of Tanghetto, Narco-
tango, Ardit and others were prevelant. Well, here I was
on the groundfloor. I was theirs forever. I began to hear
her heartbeat, her percussion. I learned this woman’s name.
They called her Viru with great affection. She belonged to
everyone’s, but I would make her mine.
I went down another staircase that left me at
the level of la pista, the dance floor. I took the
option to turn to the right. Custom or hab-
it? Musical ritual? Kabbalah? A whim? I dont
know. But, right was right, tonight.
Walking after going down steps with eyes ac-
climatizing in the darkness of the room, ears
already full of tango music, my steps became
shorter and walking between couples that
were going and coming. Then I stop to help a
waiter with a tray making it difficult to reach
the end of the corridor that ends at the stairs
to the women’s bathroom.
My eyes flick around looking for possible
future dance partners for during night. The
dance floor is full. It will remain so. But soon,
I will be there, myself. I could not find a place
to sit. All the chairs occupied. Every table
was full of milongueros. But this did not mat-
ter that much.
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