#robe de tango

[mote-historie]

Louis Strimpl, Le Frisson nouveau (The New Thrill). Robe de tango de John Redfern, La Gazette du Bon ton, 1914

[respectthepetty]

Get To Know Your BL Mutuals

tagged by @kwonzoshi

Simple, answer the questions. @ some people. Include the tag 'g2ky BL mutuals 2022' on your post so we can find everyone's answers!

What has been the BL that took you by surprise this year?

Old Fashion Cupcake. It came out of nowhere! One random day Viki uploaded the first episode, and was like “You wanna watch an oddly named show from Japan?” and my my my (sing it like Troye Sivan) it hit every sweet spot. The scene that was done all in one sequence?! I’m still there. I’m living in that scene. I only come out because I have to pay bills. I’m going to rewatch it for the 80th time now.

What has been the BL that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

It would have been Oh! My Sunshine Night, but it seemed to embrace its messiness (adding more episodes on the day of the finale!) in a way that I love (amnesia?! a murder plot?! a bubble bath?!!!!) so…

Between Us. It’s the same issue I had with Until We Meet Again. I don’t know how Win and Team’s plot is going to carry over for twelve episodes. We keep getting snippets of In and Korn (TW, please), and shots of Dean and Pharm, but we already know their story, so it’s like recycled plot with a new scent. It’s nice to see Dean not so robotic (“fuck off”) and Pharm not being infantilized, but on top of Alphabet Soup’s issues with Prince Charming, a drowning, Manow doing her (keep it up, we love it!), Tul and Wan’s Gameboys moment, baby Santa looking adorable as Wiew, the product placement of what is clearly NOT water, and the daddy issues (actual issues with their father and not Love in the Air daddy issues), I don’t know how this souffle is going to rise. However, it’s not even close to being finished, so I’m excited to watch how it bakes.

What has been your favorite BL this year?

Love Mechanics. I’m trash for VeeMark’s throat grabs. Trash! Vee being a topsy-turvy bisexual who couldn’t get his shit together is the bisexual representation I want. How many bisexuals do we know who have their shit together? Not a damn one. This show is basically a documentary. Then, Mark being the ultimate Sour Patch Kid who is willing to fist fight his father only made the dynamic between a gay and his huge red flag that much better.

Favorite BL couples (not just of 2022)?

MaxTul are my anything and everything. Korn and Knock. Tan and Bun. Sequels. Prequels. Unconfirmed projects – WHERE IS TRANSPLANT?! It always blows my mind that they are the same age, if not younger than another long-established pair, and came out the gate slutting up our screens. Not even making it a competition, it’s just wild to me that they did the devil’s tango day one, which we see more often now, and held a gun to each other’s head two years ago so DanYok, ToddBlack, KinnPorsche, and VegasPete could fly (I see you HIStory 3: Trapped. Taiwan, you're still my #1). They remind me of a Taiwanese couple with the domestic bliss, the high heat, and the batshit craziness, and I hope they live long and happy lives.

If you had to suggest a BL for someone what would it be?

To My Star 1 AND 2. Yeah, I wrote that. Not just To My Star, but To My Star 2 as well. The reasons speak for themselves, but just in case, never forget his lip was bleeding.

What's your non-BL favorite for this year?

Our Flag Means Death. I only support the girls, the gays, and the goths, so I was happily surprised that I was, in fact, supporting an entire ship of gays and their support goth with this show about pirates. If you think I’m crazy about colors and symbolism in BLs, imagine me watching this show when Ed started wearing color compared to his usual black and wore Stede’s RED robe after Stede gave him a RED cloth, that Ed placed in his pocket where his heart is because Stede gave him love only to throw it in the wind when…

Let me calm down. This show was glorious, and I’m delighted it got a second season. De. Light. Ed.

So who wants to go next? Tag as many or as few people as you want.

Have to tag the color and location mutuals: @gillianthecat @dribs-and-drabbles @waitmyturtles @sliceduplife @callipigio

[elmaxlys]

Vol 1 "Tango" - Chapter 1 (2/3)

The TV

2015: dans mon téléviseur

2020: à la télévision

Correction (thank you for catching it etc etc but how did it go into print as is I wonder- wait there are worse things in the 2020 version. right.)

2015: perdre pieds

2020: perdre pied

Clothing name:

2015: Normalement ça tourne pas autant, les robes de bal à volants de crins, si ?

2020: Normalement, ça tourne pas autant, les robes et les queues-de-pie, si ?

So in 2015 he only talks about the dress, and gives a lot of details about the kind of dress but in 2020, it's both the dress and the man's suit, without any in depth detail. Interesting change, especially considering the illustrations, where the suit indeed flies around a lot

When Sugiki searches infos on Suzuki:

2015 gives a title to the page Sugiki is reading "Rapport de recherche d'identité" (report on identity search), in 2020 that space is blank

Numbers: when Sugiki counts Suzuki's sisters

2015 has them in numbers "Il a... 1, 2, 3, 4... 9 sœurs ?!"

2020 writes it in letters "Il a... une, deux, trois, quatre... neuf sœurs ?!"

Street signs:

2015 translates the sign saying "Banque Nishini", 2020 leaves it in Japanese

One letter difference again: (it was established before the student in question was indeed a woman)

2015: Je suis sûre que c'était un coup d'un élève de Shinya Sugiki !!

2020: Je suis sûre que c'était un coup d'une élève de Sugiki Shinya !!

[rusty-swamp]

Soy un tango de Piazzola, no libertango, quizá fuga y misterio. O quizá el tango de Robe un tango suicida.

[thomariviere]

·Atelier d’art plastique·n°5

(avec une immense reconnaissance pour la plus fraîche et désaltérante des jolies pommes rouges —oui notre notre guide des choses immobiles (quoique!) est bien un fruit! Et pourquoi pas—, personne si accueillante que c’en est confondant. Et motivante. Et simple … Couvante… toute consigne se terminent par un “… ou ne les suivez pas si vous n’avez pas envie.” (Désolé Macron mais c’est pas avec des gens comme ça qu’on va réussir à faire entrer le cadre. Quoique… Si! Justement. Le fait de flouter le cadre est peut-être la meilleure manière de nous le faire aimer et choisir. En revanche c’est mauvais pour l’obéissance. La crainte de l’autorité. Ton fond de conmerce . …. Bref. Ne ternissons pas ce miracle de cristal avec la pensée d’êtres chiatiques.) Elle est une accompagnante précieuse et l’observatrice idéale pour nos tohu bohus– cascades–maracages–furets vierges (!! hihi) et éroptions vulcaniques intérieures. Je l’idolâtre. Je n’exagère pas. Je suis un fanatique dans l’âme!! Et j’assume. Oui, Quand j’aime, j’aime passionnément, je suis faite comme ça.)

Voilà mon le résultat.

Soyons clair : je suis tellement CARENCÉ en techniques plastiques et visuelles que c’est comme qq1 qui n’a plus de jambes… bah, disons que le tango risque d’être… compliqué. Moi c’est le visuel. J’ingénierie des trucs magnifiques dans la tête, mais alors! dès que je r-é-a-l-i-s-e l’image élusive qui ski-nautique qqpart sur les sillons tortueux de mon cortex cérébral, bennnn… . Mmmm. Disons que je rends leur noblesse aux colliers en petites coquillettes que nous réalisions dans les cours EMT au siècle dernier. Je ne maitrise rien. C’en est presque au stade où je rate la feuille et dessine sur la table. Que dis-je presque! Je le fais à chaque fois! Moi qui pourtant dessinais tant, enfant et ado. Tant de femmes, superbes et élégantes. Glacées, inatteignables, tant de robes. Jusqu’au jour où un homme a pris la place de ces femmes statuaires et régales. Et quelle place. Il était tellement musclé qu’il m’a fallu coller des demi pages de chaque côté de mon A4 pour y contenir (avec peine) ses épaules titaniques. Et la massive colonne de sa queue dressée atteignait sans difficulté sa lèvre inférieure. Il eut d’abord le visage du chanteur de a-ha puis celui de River. Si j’avais su alors que je venais de poser les bases de cette chose alors totalement tabou et inavouable qui semble aujourd’hui presque commune : la bigorexie.

Je mets cela ici. Avec le reste des mes épluchures. Soyons clairs ca n’est pas franchement intéressant en tant qu’art plastique. D’ailleurs, ça n’est intéressant sur aucun plan. Comme moi. Mais qui dit que seules les choses intéressantes doivent être exposées. Tant que je ne force personne à regarder! 😊

Pour ma part je trouve toujours fascinantes les recherches ayant précédées les œuvres.

Et puis ces bordels mal exécutés sont tellement représentatifs de moi. Tant de bonnes intentions. Et des exécutions qui peine à dépasser le stade de scribouillis les plus infirmes (erreur de frappe pour informe).

D’autant que beaubourg va certainement m’appeler très rapidement pour une rétrospective de mon œuvre et de tous ceux que j’ai influencé dans mon sillage (je prévois un appel… sans doute dès la semaine prochaine… certainement mercredi soir ou jeudi vers 17:27 (c’est bon j’admets. J’ai eu la paresse de m’aider de mon horoscope 😊🥸 pour les délais!), je me sentirais mal de vous en priver. (Ne zoomer surtout pas! C’est pire de près!) 😊🤓🤪🤫😳

Et en toute honnêteté (ne lui dites surtout pas) en le faisant je ne pouvais m’empêcher de me dire que c’était un hommage et un cadeau à la Grande Mère. Pas Gaia! Celle qui vient des étoiles et qui s’est perché et sur les hauteurs d’un V pour y voir le A up side down.

((A … celui de après? celui d’amour?! De Attendre peut être ou ‘Attention’ légère menace dite sur un ton grondeur.))

((Sans doute simplement le début de ma soeur et l’aboutissement de ma nièce.))

Oh btw la consigne était de : constituer un bouquet de fleur puis de la peindre à l’acrylique sur du papier magnifique épais et rugueux.

Be well all of you (les 3 d’entre vous qui ouvriront ce blog avant l’effondrement acté de notre aberration de société humaine. Non?! Même pas 3?…). Merci de me faire cet honneur (obséquieux!) ce plaisir et j’espère vraiment que ce n’est pas au détriment du vôtre… c’est vraiment assez généreux de vous courber sur le chevalet et l’écritoire de quelqu’un qui ne cesse de vous répéter qu’il n’est pas à la hauteur. Oui c’est plutôt admirable.

[daineyoza]

Samedi soir

Nos deux mains posées sur la poitrine de l’autre

Une pression, à la fois ferme et douce

Nos souffles se croisent en un léger frôlement

On se balance d’un pied sur l’autre, tranquillement

Notre respiration s’accorde, mes yeux se ferment

Je sens les battements de son cœur sous mes doigts

Une vibration qui se propage au fond de moi

Je suis prête.

Son bras enlace ma taille, l’autre guide mes pas

Je m’abandonne au rythme de la milonga

La soie rouge de ma robe, colle à ma peau

Frémissante de désir, en dansant le tango

[holythebopapocalypse]

Voilà

Le soleil se cassait la gueule sur sa figure belle et dorée j’ai touché son mollet souri avec les yeux il m’a dit t’as de belles jambes et de beaux bras un beau visage des beaux cheveux t’es beau voilà… j’ai souri souri souri souri encore avec tout ça puis il a fait un grand silence et il a dit j’ai rencontré un autre gars

*

Les martinets criblaient le ciel de cris d’éclairs la Saône ici avait passé sa robe nuit pour les danseurs et le tango on se parlait sans trop se voir pour dire des choses sans trop s’entendre quand ce fut l’heure de se lever et puis s’étreindre une dernière fois et puis rejoindre nos chez-soi abandonner derrière nos pas ce tango las

*

Seul sur mon lit il y a eu je sais pas une ou deux larmes et je me suis senti vivant comme dans les bras de sa nuit

*

L’amour fait toujours mal là où tu croyais qu’il te sauverait

*

Ça s’est fini comme ça je lui ai dit Merci pour les poèmes que j’ai écrits aux creux de tes vagues

[immppro]

#3233

Robes virevoltent Dans un tango de douceur Mon coeur cinq cents Volts

[elbiotipo]

Personajes secundarios de los Biopunks:

Lucía Acosta

Edad: 41 años:

"La Profe", tiene un postdoctorado en infraestructura biológica y es profesora de la UNBA, pero para los Biopunks es La Jefa del bioclub

Las cosas se hacen como ella dice o no se hacen, tiene demasiada experiencia con la burocracia para que la cuestiones. Puede sacar becas de donde sea

Ama los peces y todo lo que sea acúatico, tiene varias peceras en su casa

Amargada y sarcástica en general, pero de verdad se preocupa por el club y los alumnos que tiene a cargo

Usa anteojos nerds y tiene escamas tornasoladas en el cabello

Es fumadora, lo cual le da cierta amistad con Ariel

Sobreviviente del Ecocidio y de los bombardeos a Buenos Aires

Todavía le queda cierta rebeldía en su corazón, por más de que nunca lo diga

Campeona del equivalente de Age of Empires Futurista en su época

Feliciano Winogrodzki:

Edad: 68 años

"El Profe W", Presidente del bioclub, pero se dedica a mil cosas más. Tiene como 20 postdocs en cosas como Astrobioarqueología y Psicología De Los Anfibios, entre otros.

Fue un Biopunk en la Era Dorada del Biopunk y nunca deja de hablar de eso. Está orgulloso de ser presidente del club de toda su vida.

Ama los anfibios, tiene muchísimas ranas y demás de mascota. Su escuerzo favorito, Pepe, canta tango y molesta a los vecinos.

Es medio verde, literal. Se modificó para que sea parcialmente fontosintético. Sigue comiendo igual.

Lucía y Maximiliano fueron sus alumnos, y él siempre los va a tratar como tales, no importa lo que digan.

Olvidadizo, excepto con la gran cantidad de datos inútiles que sabe.

Está en edad para jubilarse, pero no lo va a hacer. Biopunk's not dead, como suele decir

Paloma Alegre:

Edad: 21 años

La 5ta Beatle 7ta Biopunk, es la novia de Florencia y siempre anda por el bioclub aunque nunca pague la cuota

Estudiante de paleontología y nerd de biología en general aunque no entiende nada de genética

Tiene plumas de pavo real en el cabello

Le encantan los juegos de rol, es la DM oficial de los Biopunks, cuando tiene ganas

Tiene una banda de rock experimental poco exitosa (pero no se lo digas), Florencia a veces canta ahí

Literal es una biopunk en todo menos en estar en el club

Sabe un montón de taxonomía, pero nada más que chistes (sabías que el nombre científico de la espátula rosada es Ajaja ajaja? no te rías!)

Marcos siempre pensó que se llamba Paola

Maximiliano Solís:

Edad: 45 años

CEO ENTERPENEUR BORN IN 2098 MAXI MAXIMILIANO

CEO de Recursos Cósmicos Federales (RCF) la empresa estatal de minería espacial de Argentina, y posiblemente uno de los hombres más ricos del país

Parece que nunca envejeció de los 20 años y es bastante arrogante al respecto

Un tipo bastante culto y serio, que se pone a hacer chistes descarados cuando entra en confianza.

Dice que no le gusta la política pero cree en el capitalismo: "Yo produzco, pibe."

COME ON MAXI YOU CAN DO IT PAVE THE WAY PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT TELL US WHY SHOW US HOW LOOK WHERE YOU CAME FROM LOOK AT YOU NOW

Muy talentoso para los negocios y para la ingeniería

Es cuidadoso que nadie robe sus ideas, o las personas que tiene a cargo

Alguna vez fue un biopunk y parte del bioclub con Lucía y Feliciano

Martín Vásquez:

Edad: 25 años

Hermano mayor de Marcos y oficial en el Servicio Ecológico Nacional Argentino (SENA), los famosos "genedarmes"

Quiere mucho a Marcos pero le gusta más hacerle bullying por "Frankestein" (el doctor no el monstruo)

Vive cansado, hace largas horas en patrulla

Su hobby es ver películas viejas, es bastante cinéfilo.

Quería jugar para River Plate de chico, pero los torneos de fútbol volvieron cuando ya era grande

Ama bardear a los Biopunks y termina todos sus argumentos políticos con "bueno che tengo que ir a laburar, nos vemos"

Muy patriota, aunque eso se traduce en un cinisimo cuando las cosas no andan bien. E hinchar siempre por la selección

Admite que a veces le deprimen ciertas cosas de su trabajo

Rodolfo "Fito, El Perro Genedarme" Wulfen

Edad: 19 años

Genedarme y compañero de patrulla de Martín. Vive en su casa y tiene su pieza con heladera, baño y todo

Es en efecto un perro K-9+ inteligente. Puede hablar castellano con cuerdas vocales modificadas, y tiene manos robóticas y drones para manipular cosas

Bueno con los chicos, todo el mundo lo quiere, todo el mundo quiere a Fito El Perro Genedarme

Es un Muy Buen Chico pero también Bien Yuta

Dice que es un pastor alemán porque habla alemán y es evangélico. Nadie sabe si está hablando en serio o no.

Es terrorífico verlo en acción, puede parecer un perro normal pero está totalmente entrenado para su trabajo y lo hace eficientemente

Le gustaría algún día dejar la fuerza y ser maestro de escuela, pero lo ve dificíl

Tiene una rivalidad con Pancho por alguna razón

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Cell Block Tango - The Dark Marauders

The seven Marauders join the Dark side willingly and with a starking fervor.

They end up in Azkaban as a result. And generations of children visit them afterwards, treated to their stories and forced to face the horrible prospect that just about anyone can be Evil if given enough reason.

TRIGGER WARNING - CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY. (rape, torture, murder, sexual and physical abuse of adults and children, graphic depictions of violence and injury, etc.) READ WITH CAUTION. BE SAFE.

(The students are led into a pitch black section of the jail. Green and white lights flash as each of the Marauders sing.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto!

(“Hi, Minnie,” Sirius says with a smirk.

Mcgonogall looks at her former favorite students with sad eyes, holding out a shaking hand in introduction.)

MCGONOGALL

And now, the seven deadly Death Eaters of Azakaban

In their rendition of! The Cell Block Tango

(The Marauders whirl into action.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto!

(The lights stop flashing and come up on the seven Marauders. The students rear back at the sight of seven madmen grinning against the bars of their cells.)

THE MARAUDERS

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

They had it coming!

They had it coming!

They only had themselves to blame!

If you’d have been there -

If you’d have seen it -

I betcha you would have done the same!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

Sectum, Avada, Sempra, Kedavra, Imperio, Crucio, Reducto!

(Lily steps forward from the murmuring hoard. The students look up at her in fear, taking in her fiery beauty, hidden by dirt and bruises and scars. Her hair, tangled in a mad mass on her head, falls in clumps over her dusty and ragged prison gown.

She grins.)

LILY

You know how people have these little habits that get you down?

Like Harry…

Harry, my baby son with Jamesie here.

See, Harry liked to cry.

And cry, and cry, and cry…

So I come home this one day

And I’m really irritated,

And I’m looking for some peace and quiet.

And there’s Harry - lying in his crib, rolling around and whimpering.

No, not whimpering -

Crying.

So, I smiled and I picked him up and I told him, I said, “You cry one more time, little one…”

And he did.

So I took my wand from my pocket

And I fired three spells…

(In the back, James lets out a mad scream: “REDUCTO!”

Lily’s grin disappears in a flash.)

At his head.

(The spotlight around Lily goes out. The lights go back to flashing as the Marauders move spastically, grinning at the children and occasionally murmuring, “Boo.”

Most of the students have gathered around Mcgonogall’s skirts by now, burying their faces in her robes.)

THE MARAUDERS

He had it coming!

He had it coming!

He only had himself to blame!

If you’d have been there -

If you’d have heard it -

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The spotlight comes up on James as everything else goes black. He grins, a mad twinkle in his eye as he twirls his fingers as if holding a wand.

“It’s rude to close your eyes during a performance, you know,” he says. Some of the students look up. James grins wider.

“I’d hate to think what might happen if any of you were rude.”

All of the students quickly snap their heads up, some so fast their necks crack uncomfortably.

James looks up at Mcgonogall and grins manically.

“That’s better.”)

JAMES

I met Lily Evans from Little Whinging Surrey about ten years ago.

And I told her I was single.

And she slapped me across the face.

So, we started a little game of push and pull.

I’d flirt with her and bully her best friend, she’d hex me til I couldn’t walk and wink as she walked away.

You know - young love!

And then I found out -

“Only best friends,” she told me -

Best friends, my ass.

Not only were they dating -

Oh no, they were engaged.

One of those childhood sweetheart things, you know?

So that day when she walked down the hall by me,

I threw out a few lines as usual -

(From behind, Remus roars, “IMPERIO!”)

You know, some girls just don’t know the right man until they’ve fucked the wrong one!

(Mcgonogall covers her mouth with her hand. One of the students squeaks and starts to cry.

James looks up, grin gone and replaced by eyes that glint dangerously. He throws himself back into the others as the lights start to flash yet again.)

THE MARAUDERS

She had it coming!

She had it coming!

She chose the loser

Over the catch!

And so he used it -

And he abused it -

It was a fire

But not a match!

(From the flashing throng, Severus thrusts himself forward. The others freeze behind him as he stumbles to a stop in front of the bars, licking his teeth as he sneers and cuts his eyes across the quivering students.

“Well, well, well…” He says, and presses his filthy fingernails into his palms until they draw blood. He pulls his hands down his face, covering himself in red as Mcgonogall murmurs, “Oh Merlin,” into her hand.

He grins.)

SEVERUS

Now, I’m standing in the classroom,

Carving up some beazors for a potion,

Minding my own business.

In storms my boss Albus in a bitchin’ rage!

He’s got the Malfoys behind him and everything, something about me fucking their son or something or other -

“You been screwing the Malfoys’ boy!” he shouts!

They were crazy!

And they kept on screaming!

“You been screwing my son!”

(From the back, Lily screeches, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”)

And then they ran into my spell.

(Severus grins, drawing a lock of filthy platinum blonde hair from his pocket and thrusting it at the students. The ones it touches scream.

Severus grins wider, wiggling his fingers.)

They ran into my spell ten times.

(The Marauders start moving again as the lights start flashing.)

THE MARAUDERS

If you’d have been there

If you’d have seen it

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The lights suddenly stop on Sirius. He’s still slightly shrouded in darkness, wrapped in Remus’ arms. They dance slowly, suggestively, with Sirius sniffling softly the whole time.

Mcgonogall’s expression sags at the sight.)

SIRIUS

Depuis que j'étais jeune, j'étais différent. (Ever since I was young, I was different.)

L'accident. L'erreur. (The accident. The mistake.)

Le traître. (The traitor.)

Onze, Gryffindor. (Eleven, Gryffindor.)

(He tugs at his neck.)

Douze, fauteur de troubles. (Twelve, troublemaker.)

(He punches Severus, who spits blood and grins.)

Treize, Muggleborns. (Thirteen, Muggleborns.)

(He pulls at Lily until she wrenches away into Severus’ arms.)

Quatorze, Animagus. (Fourteen, Animagus.)

(He shifts into a dog and then back again in the blink of an eye.)

Quinze, petit ami. (Fifteen, boyfriend.)

(He kisses Remus filthily.)

Seize ans, loup-garou. (Sixteen, werewolf.)

(He drags his shirt up over his stomach, where there are countless claw marks.)

Dix-sept, Potter. (Seventeen, Potter.)

(He slaps James so hard he draws blood, who grins and slinks towards Severus.)

Merde! Merde! Merde! (Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!)

Et ils me détestaient, me détestaient, me détestaient… (And they hated me, hated me, hated me…)

J'aurais pu aussi bien être mort. (I might as well have been dead.)

Et j'étais presque - (And I nearly was -)

Douleur et torture et tourment et malédiction après coup après coup… (Pain and torture and torment and curse after kick after punch…)

Et puis l'un d'eux m'a attrapé le bras. (And then one of them grabbed my arm.)

Poussa leur baguette contre elle. (Shoved their wand against it.)

J'ai vu des serpents. (I saw snakes.)

Et puis j'ai vu du rouge. (And then I saw red.)

(From behind, Regulus screams, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”)

Rouge, rouge, rouge. (Red, red, red.)

(Sirius is nearly sobbing now, as Remus brushes a finger down his cheek. Severus sneers.)

SEVERUS

Yeah, but did you do it?

(Sirius gasps, shaking his head frantically and bursting forward, fists by his sides and tears whirling out from his eyes.)

SIRIUS

Uh-uh!

Not guilty!

(Sirius falls out of Remus’ arms and back into the fray. As he rises from the floor and joins the odd puppet dance the others are doing, Remus stalks forward, hips out and mouth curled up into a snarl.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming…

(The students jerk back from the bars as Remus slams himself against them and roars, cackling loudly. When he turns back to them, his eyes are burning golden and amber.

Mcgonogall steps back, shoving the children behind her. Remus grins and lets out a feral howl.)

REMUS

You see, when I was a child,

I loved walking around the woods.

I’d spend hours in there, you know -

Just wandering around, picking flowers,

You know!

Sweet, innocent, childlike things.

And then one day…

I’m wearing my favorite red jumper and skipping through the woods

And there’s this man.

He’s standing behind a tree and snarling at me,

And I’m backing away.

And I start running -

But the sun starts setting.

It goes down and down and down then suddenly -

It was dark.

And here I am, lost in the woods,

This wild man chasing me.

And I’m terrified for my life of course, and that was before he suddenly howled -

Howled!

And there in his place was a huge, hulking wolf.

And I stopped.

I stopped to watch him Change.

And he fucking bit me.

Lunged and tore at my neck and my face and my chest,

And suddenly I’m bending and breaking and Changing and I’m -

Well, I’m a monster.

I was in such a state, you see, such a state.

I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing.

(From behind, Sirius howls. Severus yowls, “CRUCIO!”

Remus grins.)

It wasn't until later,

When I was washing my parents’ blood off my hands,

I even knew who I was!

(Remus shoves hard against the bars and sends himself tumbling back into the others. Severus catches him in a dip and twirls him towards Sirius, who dips him in a filthy kiss before letting him go so they can both start dancing again.

Mcgonogall is nearly in tears. Most of the students aren’t so lucky.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along!

(Remus, still in the center, snaps his head back.)

REMUS (THE MARAUDERS in parentheses)

I didn't do it (he didn't do it)

But if I'd done it (but if he’d done it)

How could you tell me that I was wrong?

(He jumps back behind the others and the lights turn them all to silhouettes.)

THE MARAUDERS

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along (they took a child in their prime)!

REMUS (THE MARAUDERS in parentheses)

I didn't do it (and then they used it) -

But if I'd done it (and they abused it) -

How could you tell me that I was wrong?

(The lights suddenly all blink out. When they come back on, the others spin in pairs in set positions like statues, silhouetted in the background as Regulus blinks up into the spotlight.

Mcgonogall swallows.)

REGULUS

I loved Amir Levis

More than I can possibly say.

He was a real bookworm -

Sensitive, a wonderer.

But he was always trying to find out my secrets.

See, he'd stay up every night looking for me,

Me and our magical little daughter.

(An accident, let me tell you.)

And while he was looking, he found:

My wand.

My family’s letters.

My stolen Horcrux.

And my Dark Mark.

I guess you could say we separated

Because of a difference in foresight.

He saw me as a murderer coming for our daughter -

(From behind, Peter dips his head back and wails, “SECTUMSEMPRA!”)

And I saw him in the way.

(Regulus smirks and ducks back into the dark. The lights start up their flashing again, all of the Marauders tugging at each other back and forth.

Suddenly Peter is thrown forward, dirty teeth spreading in a grin.

Mcgonogall whimpers into her hand.)

PETER

I never really had a home anywhere.

Didn’t fit in, was always the outcast.

That is - until I met my Marauders.

You know them as murderers, of course.

The evil, the despicable, the unforgiveable.

The Dark Lord’s most ardent and deadly followers.

But I know them as friends. Family.

The ones who didn’t say they would kill for me,

But actually did.

(Peter grins and turns his back to the students.)

And I killed for them.

Oh, did I kill for them.

Piles and piles of bodies, scores and scores of secrets…

So much pain. So much death. So much… betrayal.

(Peter whips back around, grinning madly.)

Funny, isn’t it?

Betrayal is defined as a violation of someone’s trust.

A broken promise.

An act of the utmost disloyalty.

But I betrayed thousands for the only six people in this world I was truly loyal to.

Betrayal, betrahyal.

There’s still so much pain.

So much torture, so much torment, so much terror, and then…

(From behind, Sirius shrieks, “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Peter’s grin twists into a snarl and he spits.)

So much death.

(A student lets out a loud cry. Peter cackles and snaps back with the other Marauders, all of them moving forward and backward and sideways in sync now. All of them have their sleeves pulled up so their Dark Marks, pledging their lives to the most vicious pureblood cause there is, are out for all to see.)

THE MARAUDERS

The dirty blood, blood, blood, blood, blood!

The dirty blood, blood, blood, blood, blood!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming all along!

Cause if they used us (cause if they used us) -

And they abused us (and they abused us) -

How could you tell us that we were wrong?

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They had it coming (they had it coming)!

They only had themselves to blame (they only had themselves to blame)!

If you’d have been there (if you’d have been there) -

If you’d have seen it (if you’d have seen it) -

I betcha you would have done the same!

(The Marauders all suddenly still and disperse, slinking like snakes back into the shadows.

Their voices fade as they do.)

LILY

You cry one more time, little one…

JAMES

Best friends, my ass…

SEVERUS

Ten times…

SIRIUS

Rouge, rouge, rouge…

REMUS

Fucking bit me…

REGULUS

In the way…

PETER

Betrayal, betrahyal…

(The Marauders’ mad grins shine from the dark long after the hallway has emptied of terrified students. They stay there, staring, as Mcgonogall takes shaky steps towards the door.)

REGULUS

Sectum…

PETER

Avada…

SEVERUS

Sempra…

SIRIUS

Kedavra…

JAMES

Imperio…

REMUS

Crucio…

LILY

Reducto…

(Mcgonogall reaches for the knob. The door slams in her face.

She gasps in surprise. From behind her there are snickers and giggles and cackles.

“Oh won’t you stay for a little while, Minnie?” Comes Sirius’ sugary sweet voice from the shadows. She turns with a pointed finger, but there is only black darkness.

Their laughs echo off the walls.

“After all… we are your favorite students.”)

[cno-inbminor]

inpetus

a/n: watched ‘burlesque’ today and got an idea stuck in my head!! this is the unedited result of it. 

warnings/genre: mature settings, ft. kuroo & fem!reader who’s an exotic dancer/stripper, unedited, some angst

wc: ~3.0k

-

What am I doing here?

That’s the first thought that runs through Kuroo’s mind when he walks down the concrete steps, his coat fluttering at the ends from the draft that breezes through. A small, neon arrow bolted to the brick wall offers the path to what many would consider as indulging in sin, an uncontrollable desire and want. “It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen,” his co-worker had expressed to him with wonder in his voice, one that he preferred keeping at arm’s length. “Take advantage of your bachelor days,” he had been told while clapped on the shoulder. “Being married is only fun for the first two years and then it goes to shit.”

Disgust had coursed through his veins at those words – they were greedy men who held the financial world in their hands, convinced into a delusion that nothing in the world could measure to their expectations. Constantly complaining about how their partners were never good enough, weren’t pretty enough, didn’t have the right body type, were too busy bitching at them for leaving their sock strewn around the house, their list of demands went on and on. Kuroo, only 25 years of age, felt lucky to be a consultant at a world-renowned investment firm in Tokyo where every morning, he rides an elevator 45 floors up through a fiberglass and steel skyscraper in one of his many tailored suits and sits at a desk by the window. At any point, he can stand from his chair and gaze out towards a wonderous view of the city with a cup of tea in hand, ignoring how ironic it seems to be when the higher the floor, the more entrenched they are in the smog.

Kuroo hadn’t meant to reveal that he might have been feeling a little lonely. He had some sake running through his veins when his co-workers pressed on as to why he didn’t have a partner or someone to go home to every night, and after kindly but vehemently refusing their offers to set up blind dates for him, they had spoken to him of the place. An environment underground that made you feel alive, that reminded you of the unspoken beauty in the mundane of everyday life, that left your soul winded at the fact that such a place could exist on this earth. “You should go when you’re feeling down, if you catch my drift,” the main proposer of this new adventure had snickered, elbowing the man on the other side. “It’ll be worth the money.”

Part of him felt shy once he had slipped through the metal door, coming to a stop at a stand with a woman, a guard, a red velvet rope, and blackout curtains. Kuroo took a cursory look at the sign and pulled out the exact cash he needed for the cover fee, a heftier one than usual, according to his co-workers. The woman thanked him sultrily, nodding to the guard to grant him access. When the velvet rope was unhooked and the curtains pulled back, Kuroo stepped into a new world.

The dark shadow from the entrance had been replaced with soft lights of crimson and chateau rose, blending in with icy hues of blue. Faux-crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in the faintest royal yellow, yet they were second to the harsh colors on the stage before him. Granted, there were numerous round tables before him, but with no desire to be seen as the poor, nervous newbie, he sat at one that wasn’t directly by the stage, but wasn’t too far from it either.

Part of him had expected the air to be filled with smoke and fumes of alcohol, yet instead, there was a hint of something floral. Whatever it was, it had instantly relaxed his nerves and put him at ease. He had only been sitting for a few minutes when a waitress came into his view to take his drink order. Naturally, she was gorgeous, her outfit shaping her curves sensuously and slightly revealing, yet leaving just enough skin covered to be desired. He gives a side-thought on how his co-workers would have commented on her being an ultimate tease, but wipes it from his brain as he orders a glass of cabernet sauvignon. She scribbles it down on a notepad before giving him another look, slightly tilting her head to take him in.

“Is it your first time here?” She enquires in a genuinely curious tone. Kuroo is thankful that it’s too dark for her to see the faint blush on his face as he nods. At first, he’s worried she’ll poke fun a little bit, but instead he’s given a warm, inviting smile. “In that case, welcome to the Covet Noir. You’re in luck today, one of our best dancers is showing her new routine tonight. When she’s done, I’ll let her know to give you a special visit. It’s something we do for any new clients.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Kuroo immediately replies. “I’m just…observing today?”

“Very well then. She’ll want to come, but you have every right to refuse. Though, after you watch her…I’m sure you won’t want to,” she says cheekily, sending him a quick wink before weaving between the tables towards the bar. Kuroo focuses on the stage again where a few men and women seem to be freestyling to some faint jazz over the speakers, some by poles and others with just the floor. They seem to be at varying stages of nudity, though none were fully nude. Their styles of dancing seemed to cater specifically to the audiences nearest them, accepting the tips given.

The waitress returns with his libation, silently setting it before him with a square napkin. He pulls out a couple large bills and hands it to her, to which she thanks him for and pockets it in her waist apron he didn’t notice last time. As if on cue, the jazz ends and the dancers saunter off stage, their hips swaying as they disappear into the darkness. A soft tenor speaks into a microphone somewhere off-stage.

“Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us this evening. I hope you enjoyed our wonderful dancers just now – aren’t they absolutely riveting?”

His pause leaves enough time for the patrons to give a polite applause, though some were more bold in their praise with short ‘whoops’ and affirmations. “We’re glad to hear that,” the tenor continues. “Now, with a new performance she’s been working on, please welcome our one and only, Camellia.”

The overhead lights are shining on the stage once again, though the red seems more harsh and daring. He and the other clients give a small applause as the sound of heels clicks against the stage, and everybody seems to be waiting with bated breath. The anticipatory air overwhelms him as the clicks come to a stop and suddenly, a bright spotlight is cast center stage.

You, Camellia, stand just inches away from another male – while the male is rigid and muscular in all the right places, you are more soft and highlighted in curves, body in a knee-length dress the color of Kuroo’s wine that possesses a slit that’s dangerously close to the top of her right thigh. Even from Kuroo’s distance, he can see your lipstick in the very shade of the blood that runs through their veins and the dark, winged eyeliner.  

Low string instruments creep into the speakers in a familiar tune, followed by the sharp entrance of a contrasting soprano note played by a violin. Your movements are quick and crisp, yet your body seems to always be moving, sensuous and delicately smooth. Kuroo is absolutely enraptured already, his body already leaning forward and wine forgotten. As much as he despises his co-workers’ lustful habits and thoughts, they were right about one thing: the beauty in everyone’s dancing is unlike anything he’s ever seen.

His eyes never leave your figure, subconsciously encoding every movement into his brain. It isn’t until about halfway through your routine that he feels his mouth is dry, and even as he lifts his glass to his lips to let the bitter liquid slide down his throat, he makes an effort to never miss a second. At one point, you are facing his direction and Kuroo finally understands the meaning of the waitress’s words: your eyes, the shape of them, the color, the intensity and fire in them, he feels as if he’s ready to jump into them, willing to be consumed by the flames. But you are turned away and spun into your partner’s arms, hands splayed over his shoulders as his own creep down the arch of your back.

El Tango de Roxanne, Kuroo finally recalls the name of the song playing, though it’s a slightly altered instrumental version of it. He had been roped into watching Moulin Rouge many years ago by an ex-girlfriend in high school, who had showered praises on the scene for this song. While he couldn’t match her enthusiasm at the time, he had understood her reasons. Yet with the current performance before him, he would argue that this is more beautiful, even without all the aesthetic cinematic cuts.  

Before he knows it, the routine is done and he’s clapping along with the other clients. It’s almost thunderous, and Kuroo takes a quick look around him, only to notice that the space had filled up significantly since he had arrived. Yet many were beginning to trickle out as the lights dim again and an ambient jazz song washes over them. Kuroo contemplates on leaving, the waitress’s words echoing in the chambers of his brain. He’s so focused on his decision-making that he doesn’t notice the star of the show making their way to his table.

“I’ve been told you’re new here,” you interrupt his thoughts, donned in a silk robe and hair undone from the bun it had been in. Kuroo startles and looks up towards you incredulously, a whirl of shock and embarrassment and being caught off-guard stewing in his gut. Your eyes seem frozen on him and somewhat mirror his emotions, but they quickly soften. Kuroo watches you slide into the seat next to him, your robe slipping off a shoulder and revealing the black lacy bralette you’re wearing. He finds himself gulping as inconspicuously as possible, directing his gaze towards your face that’s currently grinning at him.

“Do you need help speaking?” You ask with a teasing lilt. Your voice strikes triggers a feeling of déjà vu within him.

“I’m sorry, I suppose I was still thinking about your performance,” he musters out, desperate to save some reputation he believes he has. “Am I allowed to buy you a drink? As a way of saying thank you?”

“Normally, yes,” you reply, your tone now gentle and calming. “I’m not quite in the mood for a drink right now, but maybe next time. You came on a good night.”

“The waitress told me the same thing,” he chuckles, fingers sliding his wine glass in a circle against the tablecloth. “You’re a wonderful dancer. Do all of you have stage names as flowers?”

“Most of us, but some others wanted a different stage name.”

“Do you dance here full time?”

You shake your head. “Only part time. Something I like doing, as well as earn some extra money on the side.”

“Ah, I see.”

Silence falls over you two. However, you sigh and begin to stand from your chair. Of course, Kuroo would rather you not leave, but you have other clients to visit, and this was only a one-time special conversation for a new visitor.

“Will you be coming again?” You ask gently, as if you’re worried this’ll be the last time you see him. Your tone surprises him – he feels wanted, he feels like you, specifically, want him to return to this underground escape. But he knows he’s not special, that it’s just business for people like him to fall to your siren calls.

“Maybe,” he smiles. You step closer and into his personal space, causing him to twist slightly so he’s more directly facing you. Even though he’s sitting, with his height, you’re barely towering over him. He only needs to tilt his chin up a little bit to meet your gaze, trying not to flinch when you place a hand on his thigh. Once again, your eyes trigger something within him – in most circumstances, he would probably be feeling unsure of what to do. Yet now, he feels comfortable, as if this is something he normally experiences.

“I hope to see you come back then,” you murmur, in a way that’s only reserved for this job, before pulling back, your hand lingering on his thigh. Kuroo remembers his manners and hands you a few large bills, more than what he had given the waitress. You take them between your right index and middle fingers and tuck them into your bralette. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he replies as you saunter away. He downs the rest of the contents in his glass before moving to pay his tab at the bar counter. Soon after, he’s greeted by the black curtains once more, the guards letting him through and past the red velvet rope. As he steps into the night air with his coat shrugged on, he feels the stark contrast between the world behind him and the one in front. The floral scent has been replaced with the city air, his nose wrinkling at the stale cigarette smell mixed with general pollution.

About an hour later, he’s in bed back in his modest, minimalistic apartment, his two-year old cat stretched out in the space between his arm and the side of his chest. Donned in nothing but briefs and gym shorts, Kuroo stares at the ceiling, reliving the memories as much as possible. Your dance, the passion, the atmosphere, it had been something he thoroughly enjoyed, much to his chagrin. He wish it hadn’t been his co-workers who introduced him, but perhaps he was somewhat thankful for them.

In sleep, he dreams vividly. He’s suddenly back in Nekoma High School, red jersey and shorts on his figure, walking a cart of volleyballs past a cheering audience. His eyes are searching the stands for someone, landing on a girl donned in his spare jersey. He feels his mouth split open into a cocky grin, but it falls when he sees the face on the girl. Your eyes, the winged eyeliner, the lips blood-red, cheering for him—

And he’s thrown into the next sequence.

This time, he’s in a café, one he recognizes to be close to his parent’s home. He’s in a casual button down and jeans, sleeves neatly rolled up past his elbows. His foot taps against the ground and he feels the sensation of waiting for someone, eyes shifting between the window and his phone screen. Familiar hands cover his eyes and he finds himself playing along. “Ah, who could it be?”

“Who else would it be?”

The words are spoken in your voice, the same softness with the slight lilt, and he’s turning abruptly to look at this girl. Once again, those eyes, the makeup, your lips—

Yanked into the next sequence.

He’s sitting on the couch in front of his TV – his parents are gone, and he assumes it’s his ex-girlfriend that’s got her shoulders with his arm slung over. A movie plays on the screen as the girl munches on popcorn from the bowl in her lap.

“Tetsu, you have to pay attention to this scene, okay? It’s genius,” she says excitedly, shifting closer to him. Kuroo plants a kiss on top of her hair as he focuses on the movie, looking out for this clip that she seems so passionate about.

But his eyebrows furrow when the beginnings of El Tango de Roxanne begin to play, dancers on a large stage with Ewan McGregor’s face cutting in.

“First, there is desire. Then, passion. Then, suspicion. Jealousy, anger, betrayal! Love is for the highest bidder, there is no trust. Without trust, there is no love!”

A wave of affection for this girl washes over him as she sings along, her voice attempting to match the intensity of the man’s on the screen. Instead, it only comes off as absolutely adorable to him, and he gives her a tight squeeze. The rest of the scene passes by in a blur, but he feels impressed, the pain of Ewan’s character, the dreadful chill that ran down his body.

“That’s probably the best part of the movie,” she sighs happily. “Do you agree? How freakin’ genius it is?”

“I can see it, yeah,” he laughs, looking down at her. But for the third time, it’s your face, your features, your hair—

He sits up abruptly, startling his cat and causing it to give him a sleepy yowl. His chest is heavy and panting as his brain trudges through the visions, his dreams playing on the back of his eyelids. His body falls back and his head hits the pillow, an arm strung across his eyes. One night and you’re already haunting your dreams, but why? Why was he so comfortable with you? Why did the song take him back to happier times? Why was it that your eyes made such a deep impression on him? Why…

His eyes snap open. It hits him like a ton of bricks. The breath is removed from his lungs and he can’t believe it.

Camellia is you. You are his ex-girlfriend.

A pain wrenches his heart, twisting it horribly so. Feelings that he had long buried, memories he had long filtered and filed away, were all swimming to the surface again – he almost wanted to scream or cry, he wanted to run to a court and jump serve balls until his arm falls off and his legs fail him, he—

After all this time, he opens the lid on a truth he wishes he didn’t know: in all these years, he was still in love with you.

And even now…he still does.

[books0977]

Stephanie Hall dancing in “Bal Mixé” for ELLE France, January 2015. Photograph by Mark Pillai.

“Tango Congo. Robe, Hermès. Jupe en maille de soie, Céline. Châle frangé en soie, Norisol Ferrari. Torque en argent gravé, Césaré. Ceinture, Stella McCartney. Collant, Wolford. Salomés, Bottega Veneta.”

[petitvoyageenamerique]

Après un voyage avec air France plutôt agréable (malgré quelques turbulences) ; nous atterrissons dans la matinée, avec un peu d’avance, à l’aéroport de Buenos-Aires. Dans la file d’attente du service d’immigration, de nombreux passagers arborent des masques chirurgicaux pour se « protéger « de l’épidémie de Covid 19.

Une fois les formalités administratives accomplies, nous nous mettons à la recherche d’un taxi pour nous conduire à notre logement. Celui que nous prenons en premier démarre sans mettre le compteur… Nous lui demandons combien coute la course, et devant le tarif exorbitant proposé, nous préférons le laisser en plan et privilégier un des taxis officiels de l’aéroport, près de 1000 pesos (15 euros) moins cher !

Notre appartement est relativement confortable, mais un peu bruyant (le son de la clim vieillissante n’arrive pas à couvrir les aboiements du chien des voisins… ) On y dépose nos affaires avant de se remettre en route. Il fait beau, il fait chaud, cependant on se prend quelques gouttes d’eau… Bizarre, pas un nuage à l’horizon ? Il s’agit en réalité des nombreuses climatisations à flanc de façade des immeubles qui goûtent dans la rue en contrebas ! Le phénomène est très répondu dans la capitale, nous obligeant à esquiver ces chutes d’eaux…

Notre premier repas au pays de la viande rouge s’est fait dans un restaurant… Végétarien ! Salade boulgour polenta, c’était pas mal. Une fois rassasiés nous nous dirigeons vers le quartier de la Recoleta, visiter le cimetière et le musée des beaux-arts (collections allant de l’époque précolombienne à l’art moderne, artistes européens et argentins).

Le soir, nous dinons à la Posada de 1820, restaurant de pariladas (grillades) très courue : on doit faire la queue avant d’avoir une table ! La portion était très généreuse et la viande succulente : le bonheur !

Le lendemain, après un petit déjeuner, nous prenons la rue piétonne Florida en direction du Centro. Nous nous arrêtons aux Gallerias Pacifico, grand magasin du XIX ème siècle plein de boutiques de luxe et paré d'une coupole ornée de fresques. Nous poursuivons notre route vers la plaza de Mayo, visitons la cathédrale et prenons des photos de la casa rosada, le Palais gouvernemental qui tire son nom de sa belle couleur rose.

Le midi, on mange au patio, un restaurant localisé dans le cloître d’un ancien couvent. Joli écrin de verdure en pleine ville, et cuisine copieuse et bon marché !

Nous prenons un taxi vers la Boca, quartier assez mal famé, afin de visiter le Caminito, coin assez touristique rempli de boutiques de souvenirs, babioles diverses, mais aussi artistes, danseurs et peintres. Les maisons arborent des couleurs chatoyantes, et on peut apercevoir aux fenêtres des représentations des héros locaux : Maradona et le pape François !

On reprend le taxi en sens inverse, qui nous dépose à l’église Señora de Belén, puis déambulons dans les rues du quartier San Telmo, passons devant de nombreuses boutiques d’antiquaires, une vieille pharmacie, et la casa minima (plus petite maison de la ville, 2,5 mètres de largeur ! )

Il est temps de rentrer se changer, car nous avons réservés pour un diner-spectacle de tango ! Après un bon et, une fois n’est pas coutume, copieux repas à base de viandes ; les danseurs entrent en scène et l’orchestre se met à jouer. Les dames ont mit leurs belles robes, les messieurs roulent des mécaniques, les jambes s'entrecroisent, les danseuses virevoltent, on a l'impression qu'elles flottent au dessus du sol ! Nous avons eu droit à une très jolie démonstration de cette institution locale pendant une heure et demi. Vraiment très sympa !

Le vendredi, un bus vient nous chercher en bas de notre logement pour nous amener dans la Pampa, à la découverte de la culture Gaucho, les cow-boys argentins. Après un trajet d’une bonne heure, nous atteignons l'estancia Don Silvano. On nous offre des empanadas (chaussons en pâte fourrés à la viande, la spécialité du coin !) et un petit verre de vin pour bien débuter la journée. Puis on grimpe sur un cheval pour une petite promenade d’un quart d’heure autour de la propriété (même pas eu peur ! )

Le midi nous avons droit à un… copieux repas de viandes ! Avec un spectacle de chants et danses traditionnels. Pour finir la journée nous assistons à une démonstration équestre, avec course de vitesse, slalom, et épreuve des anneaux : les cavaliers doivent attraper un petit anneau avec un bâton de la taille d’un crayon, le tout en galopant à toute vitesse… Et ils y arrivent ! La tradition veut qu’ils offrent l’anneau à une dame du public, qui doit en retour leur donner un bisou sur la joue. L’homme qui accompagne la belle doit quand à lui faire une bise sur la joue… du cheval ! Pour info, c’est assez poussiéreux et poilu…

Nous rentrons en ville et faisons une petite promenade sur les bords du Puerto Madero, ancien port reconverti en quartier branché. On y visite la frégate présidente Sarmiento, navire école vieux de plus d’un siècle ayant réalisé plusieurs tours du monde. Puis retour à l’hôtel pour se reposer, car demain nous partons tôt pour Ushuaïa !

[valeriehervo]

Paroles trop machistes, guidage exclusivement masculin, invitation à danser uniquement à l'initiative de l'homme: un collectif féministe veut profiter du Mondial de tango de Buenos Aires pour revisiter les stéréotypes de cette danse très codifiée.

Née à la fin du XIXe siècle dans les maisons closes de Buenos Aires et Montevideo, ce véritable corps-à-corps passionné fut d'abord jugé trop sulfureux pour être pratiqué en public, puis gagna sa popularité et ses lettres de noblesse après un détour par Paris.

A l'Usina del arte, le centre culturel de la capitale argentine qui accueille la manifestation, 744 couples originaires de 36 pays et âgés de 18 à 99 ans participent à la compétition. Des centaines d'autres couples amateurs assistent à des cours, des concerts et des bals durant deux semaines.

© Ronaldo SCHEMIDT Les danseurs argentins Fernando Rodriguez (droite) et Estefania Gomez lors du championnat du monde de tango à Buenos Aires, le 15 août 2019

Tous se retrouvent autour de la même passion, le tango, même si leurs visions divergent parfois.

"L'essence même du tango joue avec l'idée de la soumission de la femme, d'un homme macho et dominant. Mais si tel n'était pas le cas, serait-ce encore du tango?", se demande Mariana Argüello, une Argentine de 26 ans assidue des milongas, soirées ouvertes aux initiés comme aux curieux et aux touristes.

Il s'agit pour elle "d'un jeu de rôles nécessaire qui se met en place le temps que dure la musique".

Dans les coulisses, derrière la scène principale, des candidates se maquillent et ajustent leur robes décolletées avant le concours de danse.

Pendant ce temps dans un salon annexe, le Mouvement féministe du tango (MFT) remet en question le côté macho de cette danse classée par l'Unesco au patrimoine culturel de l'humanité en 2009. Sur une petite piste, des apprentis danseurs assistent à un cours d'"échange de rôles", une variante du tango de plus en plus populaire où c'est la femme qui guide et non l'homme.

"Dans le tango traditionnel, il y a toujours eu une inversion des rôles car les hommes pratiquaient entre eux. Mais c'est nouveau pour la femme, car elle a toujours eu une attitude passive" jusqu'ici, explique Adriana Vasile, danseuse et chorégraphe en charge de cette initiation.

- "Nouveau paysage" -

Avec cette variante, "c'est la femme qui propose (les pas) et ça c'est fantastique", s'enthousiasme-t-elle à propos de ce qu'elle qualifie d'"évolution de la danse".

"Le tango doit accompagner la marche du monde où (le rôle de) la femme a beaucoup changé et cela est en train d'arriver au tango", résume Adriana Vasile.

Cette nouvelle façon de danser, moins codifiée, se répand dans les milongas de Buenos Aires, où les soirées "classiques" côtoient celles dites "amicales", prisées par les plus jeunes.

Il y est normal de voir des danseurs du même sexe ou des couples mixtes qui échangent les rôles sur le parquet.

"A un moment donné, ils changent (l'emplacement) du bras et c'est l'autre qui prend le contrôle", explique Soraya Rizzardini Gonzalez du MFT.

Dans ces soirée "amicales", on ne danse plus sur certains tangos traditionnels dont les paroles sont trop machistes, voire violentes envers les femmes.

"Clairement, les premières paroles de tango étaient machistes, misogynes où constituaient une véritable apologie du féminicide", affirme Mme Rizzardini en citant une chanson au titre trompeur: "Amablemente" ("Aimablement"). Elle raconte l'histoire d'une femme surprise dans les bras d'un autre homme et qui reçoit, à la toute fin, "34 coups de couteau".

Autre évolution liée à cette nouvelle tendance, c'est la femme qui invite l'homme sur la piste, ce qui est totalement proscrit par les codes traditionnels du tango.

"C'est ce qui s'est assoupli le plus rapidement. Avant, c'était mal vu et désormais, ça fait partie du nouveau paysage du tango", fait valoir Soraya Rizzardini Gonzalez. "En tant que féministes, nous faisons une critique de toute la logique de domination du tango, nous voulons que la danse soit un dialogue entre pairs".

En revanche au Mondial de tango, c'est le modèle traditionnel qui domine encore.

"Ce que l'on voit ce sont des stéréotypes sexistes: une femme sexualisée qui montre son corps et un homme dominant dont on ne voit que le visage et les mains. Mais il y a de nouvelles façons de vivre le tango, il faut juste les découvrir", conclut Mme Rizzardini.

[aplsalideras]

Convite Precoz Jugué fútbol 5 con vos y no me di cuenta. Compartimos shows a granel y cerveza tibia de almacén. Jugué a quererte con escasez de palabras y sobrado de placer. Parco de emociones y sobrado de buena intención, te defino a vos. Jugué en centenar de tribunas entre cascotes, alambrado, puteada y grito de gol. Entre bosta de caballo, cacheo y bengala. Ahí te vi, perdido entre tambores de Los Feos, dejándote llevar por un alma rea y festiva. Eso te robe y lo riego en cualquiera de mis jaujales encuentros. Jugué a bailar con vos sin siquiera saber un paso de la oración. Aprender de la compañía tolerando el espacio. Aguantar tu torbellino y, con carpeta, llevarte alivio. A poner play y desatar con esa canción, tu atormentada emoción. Jugué tanto que me olvidé que ya compartimos canas en el techo. Que hablamos más de café y tango, que de cerveza y rock and roll. Una exagerada metáfora para adornar lo melancólico del paso del tiempo. Las dos fotos que tenemos juntos en tu hogar, nos delatan. Una hecha sepia por el sol mañanero. La otra en blanco y negro. Jugué tanto que me perdí, por suerte, de juzgar tu labor. Ser padre es una tarea del carajo y yo no tengo ni un puñado de valía, para encarrilar jamás, 3 almas niñas, que brindaste con Laurita. Jugué tanto que el tiempo me embriagó. Jugué a jugar que ya partiste, y no iba a tener tiempo para ofrecerte este, simple y edulcorado, convite. El de leer este texto precoz antes que me tajee el corazón, llorando porque ya te fuiste hoy. Arterias. Foto: Martin Escafandra

[perfectirishgifts]

Giving Cinderella Her Due: A Look At Cabernet Franc

New Post has been published on https://perfectirishgifts.com/giving-cinderella-her-due-a-look-at-cabernet-franc-2/

Giving Cinderella Her Due: A Look At Cabernet Franc

Tenute Argentiera’s iconic Ventaglio Cabernet Franc vineyard in Bolgheri

“Cab Franc is the ultimate Cinderella grape,” exclaims Leah Jørgensen, owner and winemaker of Jørgensen Cellars in Willamette Valley. “Historically, in Bordeaux, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot got all the attention, while Cab Franc was the one who did all the work. The truth is she’s the belle of the ball.”

While its hard to imagine the parent of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Carménère being underappreciated, Cabernet Franc is often overlooked by wine lovers. Yet, it remains a secret weapon of wine makers. It’s time to start pay attention to Cabernet Franc.

As a blending grape, Cabernet Franc plays well with others. It delivers high acidity, smooth tannins, and notes of spice and herbs, making it more than capable of taking the lead in blends from Napa Valley and Bordeaux’s Right Bank, most notably in Château Cheval Blanc. Recently, it is making a name for itself as a single variety wine.

Cabernet Franc grape close up. Saumur, France

Uco Valley is home to Argentina’s top Malbec. However, Gualtallary, within the Tupungato GI, has an ace up its sleeve—Cabernet Franc. “The potential power of Cabernet Franc illustrated through our terroir is best expressed here,” shares Gonzalo Fernandez Gregorat, winemaker of Rutini Wines, who has been producing Cabernet Franc in the region for 20 years. Rodrigo Serrano, winemaker of Domaine Bousquet, attributes the wine’s soft expressions in the mouth to the region’s elevation and alluvial soil. In the hands of the region’s top producers, the grape transforms into the sexy elegance of the Argentine Tango.

Under the Tuscan Sun, Tenuta Argentiera’s Ventaglio Vineyard, on their Bolgheri estate, signals a new awakening for the property. Ventaglio, meaning fan, represents the winery’s cru, or best, vineyard. And, it’s all planted with one grape: Cabernet Franc. “Ventaglio is my heart and blood—the place I find a new beginning,” shares owner Stanislaus Turnauer. Produced in small amounts in the best vintages, Ventaglio represents the flagship of Argentiera’s portfolio, taking expectations and understanding of the grape to new heights—a Cru Super Tuscan comprised mainly of Cabernet Franc.  

Napa Valley wineries such as Gamble Family Vineyards, Ehler’s Estate, and Cliff Lede Vineyards produce rich, robust expressions of Cabernet Franc. Chris Tynan, winemaker of Cliff Lede Vineyards, believes Napa hosts the ideal conditions for the grape to ripen “to perfection.” 

Inspired by Right Bank Bordeaux, the Cliff Lede High Fidelity “spotlights the playful symbiosis of Cabernet Franc and Merlot, accentuating their individual layers of complexity.” Jason Lede, hospitality manager of Cliff Lede Vineyards “loves it for its plush, fruit-forward qualities.” Adding, “It’s approachable yet still has incredible concentration.”

Both Leah Jørgensen as well as Alison and Eric Smith Story, owners of Smith Story Wine Cellars in Anderson Valley, find their Cabernet Franc inspiration in France’s Loire Valley. And, both believe the trick to an exceptional glass starts in the vineyard.

To limit the grape’s natural “greenness,” Smith Story carefully monitors the grape, harvesting once a perfectly ripe mid-core is achieved. “Resulting in a vibrancy and a nice lift of acidity at the end is a truly magical sip found in our Smith Story Cabernet Franc,” shares Alison Smith Story.

Adding to this, Jørgensen maintains the timing of leaf removal and irrigation of the vine is key in limiting the wine’s greenness while it ripens. This allows the fruit to shine as the green notes become tertiary, creating a pleasant herbal expression. She also contends, in order to coax out the grape’s fruitiness, new oak should never be used in aging.

Jørgensen Cellars offers a variety of expressions of Southern Oregon Cabernet Franc.

Jørgensen sources her Cabernet Franc from Applegate and Rouge Valleys, areas of Southern Oregon containing limestone soil with ancient marine sediments similar to the Loire Valley. Crater View Ranch Vineyards, the source for some of her fruit and a vineyard she believes grows some of the best Cabernet Franc in the world, contains a high concentration of this soil. Because Loire Valley is revered for its expressions of the grape, these soil similarities offer Oregon growers guidance in cultivating the fruit.  

Cabernet Franc’s acidity and tannin structure allows Jørgensen to craft a unique expression—a blanc wine, inspired by former Anne Amie winemaker Thomas Houseman’s L’Iris white Pinot Noir as well as Crémant de Loire sparkling wines. However, she is not making an arbitrary white wine from red grapes. Rather, building on the grape’s structure for intentional symmetry between the white and red wines.  

Lori and Mike Budd, owners of Draceana Wines in Paso Robles, feel in love with Cabernet Franc at first taste many years ago. In 2013, the couple launched their own label with one wine. “After hunting California, we realized there was not a lot of Cab Franc out there. So, we decided to form our own niche with the foundation of the wine we really, really love,” explains Lori Budd.

Today they craft two styles.  A classic multi-site clonal cuvee, and single site and clone reserve expression. “The reserve is mother nature in a glass,” shares Budd. “There are so many different expressions of the grape—there’s a Cab Franc for everyone,” believes Lori Budd.

Surprised a grape with Cabernet Franc’s pedigree did not have its own celebration day, Budd says the “Jersey girl in her” took up the charge to correct this oversight. In 2015, she single-handedly established December 4 as #CabFrancDay.

The date honors Cardinal Richelieu, who is credited with bringing cuttings of the grape to the Loire Valley in the 17th century. Lore holds he planted the vines at St Nicolas de Bourgueil where it grows to this day. From its humble beginnings, #CabFrancDay is now an international celebration.

While its increasingly easier to find wineries focusing on this grape, it remains underappreciated. “Cabernet Franc is an underdog—it needs to be fought for,” explains Budd. “It delivers so many different expressions. There is a Cab Franc out there for everybody.”

a selection of high-quality Cabernet Franc wines

2017 Cliff Lede Vineyards ‘High Fidelity’ Napa Valley ($95) is crafted of 48% Cabernet Franc, 43% Merlot and 9% Cabernet Sauvignon in a nod to both Right Bank Bordeaux and classic rock n’ roll, in a “Smoke On The Water” sort of way. Notes of black currant, fig jam, black pepper, smoked charcuterie, and fresh tobacco dazzle the senses. Concentrated yet approachable, with a crushed velvet mouth-feel and a long, mouth-watering finish.

2018 Domaine Bousquet GAIA Cabernet Franc Gualtallary Estate Vineyard Uco Valley ($30) represents the first time the wine is produced as 100% varietal. It offers soft aromas of bright fruit, mint, pepper, warm baking spice, and floral notes. Firm, gripping tannins contrast its fruit-forward juiciness and mid-palate minerality. Its broad on the palate with a lingering freshness.

2018 Jørgensen Cellars Mae’s Vineyard Blanc de Cabernet Franc Applegate Valley Oregon ($30) is a stunning wine. Layers of lemon, apricot, and apple are joined by fresh picked savory herbs, fresh white flowers and blossom, white tea, and trailing toasted hazelnuts leap from the glass. Complexity follows through on the palate with rich texture balanced by firm acidity, offering an elegance and mid-palate lift. This wine is a must.

2018 Jørgensen Cellars Cabernet Franc Southern Oregon ($25) follows in the footsteps of the Blanc in that it is layered and complex. Aromas of a dried bouquet leap from the glass of this flagship red wine, followed by delicate berries, warm spice, savory dried herbs, and trailing smoke. Vibrant best describes the palate, its fresh with lots of energy and lift. A steal for the price.

2016 Jørgensen Cellars ‘Clos Rouge Valley’ Reserve Cabernet Franc Southern Oregon ($50) falls to the opposite end of the spectrum, word descriptors do no justice in this distinction. Elegant layers of red floral notes (fresh and dried) mingle with tea, savory herbs, cocoa bitters, and black pepper, but more than the sum of its part, the flavors weave together like a tapestry. With a crushed velvet mouth-feel and linear focus, this medium-bodied wine begs for food.

2018 Ravine Cellars Cabernet Franc Finger Lakes New York ($21.95) is a bold single variety wine. Dark fruit, olive tapenade, dried herbs, fresh tobacco, and trailing pepper elicits the senses. Fine-grained tannins from large cask aging offer a smooth mouth-feel. A fruit-driven plate is juicy yet balanced with earthiness in a full-bodied wine with a long finish.

2016 Smith Story Cabernet Franc Sonoma Valley ($48) is a single variety wine intentionally crafted in an elegant, refined style. It offers bright notes of red and black fruit mingling with fresh herbs, violets, subtle spice, and black tea. The palate is fresh with nice lift and mouthwatering acidity. A food wine in a classic old-world style.

2015 Tenuta Argentiera Ventaglio Bolgheri IGT ($300) is the inaugural release. It is crafted of 85% Cabernet Franc and 15% Cabernet Sauvignon. This wine stands out for its cru quality: Lush, sultry, layered, complex, and structured. It’s robe of dark fruit, crushed flowers, dried herbs, warm spice, and a cedar, tobacco, mineral earthiness goes on for days on the palate. Long age-ability but hard to resist now.

2018 Zuccardi ‘Poligonos’ San Pablo Cabernet Franc ($30) is located in the center of Uco Valley, in the heart of Tunuyán, a region defined by its close proximity to the Andes Mountains. Winemaker Sebastián Zuccardi vinifies this wine in concrete vats with indigenous yeast. The resulting 100% Cabernet Franc is fresh and lively, with layers of blue and red fruit, dried herbs, and graphite. The palate exhibits tension between its smooth tannins and bold mountain nature, walking a tight-rope between new and old-world styles.

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