BUDAPEST TANGO MEMO

Julia Emmerich is a tango teacher based in Budapest, and strongly influenced by Antonella Terrazas. With a background in movement pedagogy and psychology, she explores tango beyond steps, focusing on body awareness, emotional trust, and authentic connection. Passionate and thoughtful, she challenges fast-food learning trends and invites us to slow down, feel deeply, and rediscover ourselves through dance.

What is your background? 

I was born and still live in Budapest. I am half German and half Hungarian, and I have a strong connection to Germany. I lived in Berlin for many years. Tango is my full-time occupation: I am a professional teacher in Budapest. I study extensively with Antonella Terrazas, who has influenced me deeply. I am also a dance & movement pedagogue. When I studied in Berlin, my teacher was Eve Neeracher, in 2018. This is my passion. I love helping people. I am currently studying integrated psychology—a post-post-modern branch of psychology. On this long road of tango, my goal is to become a tango coach. When I teach, I don’t only focus on the physical aspect—although I care about it in great detail—but also on the psychological dimension. Psychological blocks can affect the body. Many people are capable of doing movements, but they don’t believe they are. I work on deconstructing these barriers and helping people overcome them: giving them trust in their body and reconnecting with it. It’s the part of tango you cannot see.

I try to guide the tangible process in a way that helps people reconnect with their bodies and, basically, become dancers. We use anatomy—for example, how to use the dorsals in a movement, how to create push or pull. I use many concrete techniques to reconnect the body to movement in tango.

Why did you choose tango?

I used to practice other dances, like hip hop, and I was also a cage fighter. When I was 20, I had an accident while living in Cologne and had difficulties using my left ankle. I moved to Budapest intending to dance instead of fight. During that time, I met a girl in Hungary. I was interested in different dances, but I felt I wanted to be a leader. Because of that, I couldn’t imagine myself dancing tango—I didn’t think it was possible for a woman to lead in Hungary.

I attended a beginner workshop one weekend, and after two weeks I knew this was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

What do you like about Argentine tango? Connection? Musicality? 

The presence—the feeling that something is happening right now. The sense of being with another person in the moment, creating something together. And also the music.

A week or two later, I saw a video of Sebastián Arce and Mariana Montes dancing, and I remember crying because it was unbelievable that humans could create something so beautiful—creating poetry with their bodies. That is something I wanted to experience and deeply understand.

Where do you teach? 

I teach mainly in Budapest and sometimes in Berlin. I used to teach in Berlin in the school of Alejandro Hermida, an Argentinian teacher. I really started to teach after meeting Antonella Terrazas. She rebuilt everything from the ground up, destroying my ego—in a good way. That was about two years ago.

Is teaching different in Budapest and Berlin?

Yes, it is. In Hungary, most people—probably because of the political and economic situation—are more pessimistic. As a consequence, they don’t allow themselves to make mistakes. They don’t dare to learn through mistakes and prefer not to try rather than to risk doing something wrong. So self-confidence plays a major role.

Germany is more stable in many ways—even if Berlin can be chaotic. People are better supported by society; for example, mental health care is covered by healthcare. People tend to be more stable financially, in their jobs, and in their families. They are more curious and more willing to try. On the other hand, they are less likely to follow rules or authority—they’re more free-spirited, which is fun, but sometimes doesn’t fit when we need to go deep into technique.

Hungarians can be pessimistic, but those who don’t give up are very focused on technique. When they try, they can really achieve their goals—but we seem to be in a moment where there is less trying.

Do you have tips for beginners?

1.Beginners should remember that nothing is permanent. They can change their mind, their dance, their consent… Tango can sometimes appear as a strict environment, but they can bring their own freedom into it. There are many rules—I'm quite traditional in the way I dance—but at the same time you have the right to revoke, question, or reinvent.

2.Try everything: different teachers, different approaches. Then, once you have an idea of what you enjoy in tango and how you understand it technically, choose a place that feels good for you and stay there as long as you can. If you keep switching places too often, the basic ideas can become blurry: one teacher says one thing, another says something else… Once you have stable technique, you’ll understand that these different ideas often mean the same thing, just in different words. Before that, it can be very confusing.

3. Don’t discard your mistakes — they are some of your best teachers. Fix the problem where it happens. Instead of restarting the step a thousand times, stay in the ‘bad moment’ and correct the issue right there.

Is the tango community safe and respectful for women?

It’s a hard question, because you cannot separate the tango community from society. I’ve danced around the world for years—for example, in Japan—and the experience was different from Europe. So I would say: yes and no. It’s a mixed answer.

What could make the tango environment even better and more respectful for everyone?

If we think about truly serious issues—such as cases of sexual violence—those are, of course, extreme situations. Beyond that, I believe we can improve the environment by being more open to talk, to listen, and to create spaces for people to share.

The difficulty is that when something bad happens, sometimes there is an anonymous post on Facebook describing it, but no one knows if it’s true. False accusations exist as well, so it becomes difficult to judge. On a local level, it is much more useful to have safe spaces where we can discuss what happens, learn what to do, and prevent future situations. How can we act in the moment when something happens—not only afterward, publicly, on a global platform?

It’s important to overcome the fear of speaking within the community. I see more and more women’s circles forming, and that’s great. But if we truly want change, we must involve men as well. This requires listening, accepting criticism on both sides, and having real conversations—not just reproach. That could help a lot to make everyone feel safer.

In tango, there is a spoken and unspoken hierarchy. We have maestros and teachers, and although many are respectful and have worked hard to be where they are, each voice should count when it comes to creating a safe environment.

I would like to start something in this direction. But even though I am experienced, I still have fears—asking myself: Who am I to do that? But I am a person, I am here, and I would like to contribute. The hierarchy in tango often makes people feel they cannot express their voice.

Do you have projects like performing in dance theatre or participating in dance groups?

Yes, I would consider it. My challenge is that I am a small-sized leader, and it’s difficult to find a follower of similar height. In Hungary, I know only one person with whom I could dance professionally. Others are taller than me. Finding someone who shares the same vision of the work is not easy either—especially with my 1.57 m height.

Even though you have learned both roles and choose to lead, what key differences have you experienced?

Technically, there is not much difference. It is more or less the same. The difference lies in how the two roles are taught. I learned from Antonella Terrazas, who uses the concept of opposition. Basically, you create energy through your body—from the floor—to push and pull. This dynamic is created with the whole body. Because of this, the leader and follower are technically very similar, but they use the concept in different ways.

As a leader, my job is to create motion in another body, not in mine. We can say I am the frame, and the follower is the picture. The frame creates the energy, but the other person receives it and moves.

That’s why, in my opinion, leaders should be more humble. They are good leaders because the followers can dance beautifully. Often—not out of ego, but due to natural brain processes—leaders think they need to move more in order for the other person to move. But actually, the more I move as a leader, the less the follower will move. Then I’m not creating motion, only power. Power is not movement; power is the energy I transfer so my partner can create movement.

For followers, it’s important to be active—not passive executors. Their role is understanding. If they get an impulse and instantly run ahead, they leave the leader behind. Their job is to return the power. It’s an exchange: the leader creates power (as in energy), but the follower’s motion creates the dynamics the leader can use. It’s a give-back process.

Followers need to delay slightly—let’s say be a little “bitchy,” but in the right way. When I’m sure I’ve received enough power, then I decide to move.

In Hungary, some women tend to be a little too “below.” But if you remember the idea of opposition, both parties are half of a whole that creates a couple. It’s not about one being above or below. The roles are equal.

Another important thing is that followers must allow themselves to move. There is a moment where you can delay or resist. Followers are not slaves but partners. Some of my female students are afraid to feel the joy of being led—to allow themselves to feel feminine, flowing, and receptive.

These ideas I learned from Antonella are probably a big difference between how I teach and how many others teach. Many teachers teach from the outside in. They teach forms—sequences or steps—and people try to copy them without understanding how or from where to create them. We teach from the inside out. First we teach how to create motion in the body, how to connect the body, how to push the floor so that the upper body moves as a consequence. When the connection between lower and upper body becomes alive, everything changes. Once you understand this, and over time the rules of creating movement, it gives you the possibility to do any kind of dance movement.

Regarding economic pressures, do you think some teachers teach sequences because students want to “order” figures like at a fast-food restaurant? 

Probably. However, with what I’ve learned from Antonella I am not as much part of that trend, and it works well. We can see students who come to us after being disappointed with copy-paste teaching. Antonella is well-known and has far more background knowledge than many people realize. She has a very serious, strong and long education in dance. 

But I also see my students receive compliments within six months because they truly progress with this methodology. That doesn’t always happen elsewhere. But I know we are all doing our best. 

My goal is to give people self-confidence, joy, and a sense of safety in their own bodies. I want to help create real dancers. I don’t want to lie to myself or to others for business or marketing reasons. That is not who I am, and it’s not the job I chose.