Mirta & Lalo, Tango.

When do you let life change you, and when do you hold on to yourself?

I often wonder where that line is. Do you feel it, or is it set for you by society? Life is an inspiring journey where our interests, passions, and values are never the same at sixty as they were at thirty-six or sixteen. Life surprises us, until the moment comes when we must consciously choose — to pause, turn back, take a new path, or keep walking straight ahead.

There is also something special about bringing the old into the present. It shows respect to keep rituals, traditions, and values alive, even when the world around us slowly moves away from them.

Is innovation only possible when we let go of the past?

Can nostalgia be integrated — or at least exist beside it?

Or may we draw a line when the survival of the core is at risk?

Creative Wings

One of the dance styles that understands this discussion is the tango.

Since its birth in Buenos Aires and Montevideo around 1880, it has gone through many transformations, which today have led to two main styles: the classical tango, and tango nuevo, developed mainly under the wings of maestro Astor Piazzolla.

Lalo frowns when he hears the name of this master, who became famous for changing the traditional style so much that it almost deserves its own category. The jazz sounds that inspired Piazzolla while growing up in New York were mixed into existing melodies. Under his vision, the traditional tango típica with six musicians expanded to eight, with the addition of drums and an electric guitar.

Piazzolla’s choices inspired many to claim creative space and make their own interpretations of a tradition that had already proven itself. Just like ballet developed into contemporary dance, and hip-hop grew into breakdance and locking, tango shows how the heritage of many people has merged into a shared legacy — where the original core of the dance is not always visible anymore.

Yet, despite their different views — whether holding on to tradition or embracing innovation—everyone agrees on one thing:

“The tango is the dance where two souls meet and merge into one.”

Mirta & Lalo

I meet Mirta and Lalo in Mirta’s apartment on a sunny Friday afternoon in July, around the death anniversary of their admired maestro Osvaldo Pugliese. He played an important role in the creation of modern tango from the 1920s onwards, and in the dance philosophy of this couple — a philosophy that values subtlety, conscious movement from calmness, and mutual respect for each other, the environment, and the tango heritage.

Under a wall filled with photos, awards, and memories of a lively dance career stands a bust of the composer. The rough texture gives it a lived appearance, fitting for a man who reached almost 90 years of age and devoted more than 70 of them to music. As hard as the material is, the eyes behind the sculpted glasses look soft, just like his real ones once did.

Why do Mirta and Lalo adore the maestro so much? Lalo explains: “His fine compositions fit best with the romantic side of the tango.”

Tango

The tango is a melting pot of dreams, memories, and desires that connects lonely souls. Created in the suburbs of the Río de la Plata by Southern European migrants and Creoles from rural Argentina, it became the voice of homesickness and heartache — of those who left their families and everything they knew behind in search of a better future.

Both the lyrics and the dance express a kind of directness — a cry for help that, in a subtler form, might never have been heard. It’s the same spirit as in folk music everywhere; in the Netherlands, it can be compared to the emotional tone of André Hazes. That same melancholy is expressed most deeply through the bandoneon, which joined tango orchestras about thirty years after the first tango melodies were played.

Displacement & Connection

The tango, as a meeting between displaced people, also connects Mirta and Lalo — one hundred years after the first tangos were danced in the milongas. During the years of the Guerra Sucia (1976–1983), they fled Argentina with their young son Mariano, seeking a new life across the ocean. They became part of a larger group of refugees who found each other in social activities, often organized in community centers in Amsterdam. Their new life there was sealed with the birth of a daughter, completing the creative family with a passion for art, dance, and music.

Mirta was twenty-seven when she joined a theater group that processed experiences and found new hope through dialogue and dance. She still remembers her first performance well: a story about Argentine women who had lost partners and sons.

It was her first step toward a career that later earned her several awards for representing and preserving Argentine heritage in The Netherlands. For years, she danced with her partner Gustavo, until his early death. In the following years, she and Lalo proved to be a strong duo— on stage and in life. Their bond continues in the close friendship they share today.

Representing Traditions

Beyond their natural chemistry and shared passion for tango, Mirta and Lalo represent the traditional compadrito and milonguita.

He — charming, present, proud of his language skills, including Lunfardo, the slang found in classic tango lyrics.

She — modest but strong, elegant in appearance, commanding respect, and showing even more warmth as her connection with you deepens.

Both are passionate, strong-willed, and resilient through life experience. They choose connection over the constant revisiting of old wounds — focusing instead on the dream of all the good that is still to come.

Connection also means holding on — to something familiar within the new. Just like the migrants who, when arriving in Argentina, carried more intangible heritage than material possessions. In a world where they were not always understood, they held on to the traditions that shaped their identity.

As we grow older, we reach a point of self-acceptance where we simply want to be, free from the urge to constantly adapt to changes around us. We let some developments pass by and feel no need to move with what doesn’t fit our core. Personally, I still long to reach that level of calm within the chaos.

Old and New

Still, for all of us, the world keeps moving forward — and so does the tango. Just as the music evolved, the dance also changed. While traditional tango, born in the multicultural neighborhoods of early 20th-century Argentina, was marked by improvisation within a tight embrace, modern tango gives more space to free movement and the almost academic search for perfect connection between steps.

Between 1940 and 1980, tango reached worldwide fame through shows, films, and theater. These performances introduced a large audience to explosive virtuosity, where choreography and storytelling became more important than the improvisation from which tango began.

It is this version that most modern audiences remember.

For Mirta and Lalo, however, authentic improvisation does more justice to the original tango— the search for connection between strangers, guided only by intuition, observation, and empathy. Lalo says: “The modern versions of tango miss the romance and melancholy. You can’t create those feelings with electric instruments.”

Fusion

Over the years, old and new have merged many times. For example, when masters of both generations came together in Amsterdam’s Royal Theater Carré to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Pugliese’s Orquesta Típica.

Or at the wedding of Dutch Crown Prince Willem-Alexander and Argentine Máxima Zorreguieta, where Mirta’s son and his partner performed a tango for the royal couple — and later, the melodies of Piazzolla’s Adiós Nonino moved people from both countries to tears.

No meaningful discussion can exist without respect for the beauty of both perspectives. In the end, the magic lies in the embrace between old and new. In the man’s hand resting gently yet firmly on the woman’s shoulder, guiding her with respect. In the woman’s fingers on the man’s back — following and surrendering, but only when he knows how to read her movements. It’s in the space between their moving bodies, growing smaller as trust deepens.

Because of all the emotions we feel, love needs the least space to be felt most deeply. It is at its best when every millimeter of each other’s presence is shared — when two people intuitively sense which movement fits next, and dare to find new paths together.

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