Hola, world — I’m Marcelo Solís 👋
Argentine Tango milonguero dancer, poet-philosopher, and serial day-dreamer in sensible shoes. I cut my teeth on Buenos Aires dance floors where the wooden boards still remember the Golden Age; today you’ll find me ping-ponging between San Francisco and BA, teaching Tango with a grin and a raised eyebrow that says prove it on the pista.
Tango Teacher & Performer – 30 + years coaching everyone from nervous first-timers to championship hopefuls.
Life Coach – helping creatives untangle mind-knots and turn “maybe” into “let’s roll”.
Entrepreneur – cooking up a booking/payments web app so dancers spend less time scrolling and more time twirling.
Capoeirista – because kicking upside-down keeps me humble.
Poet & Non-academic Philosopher – publishing musings on love, movement, and the ethics of a perfect embrace.
Tradition is my compass, curiosity my fuel. The tanda may be 100 years old, but every ocho is brand-new. I chase that tension—past meets future—whether it’s remixing milonga steps or beta-testing an AI that writes kinder email.
Currently speaking Spanish, English, and baby French (pardon my accent, Paris).
Practicing intermittent fasting and nudging 55 kg of pure enthusiasm toward extra muscle.
Writing the “History of Tango” video series because algorithms deserve culture too.
Obsessed with beans, pumpkins, and any recipe that lets garlic sing.
Launch a subscription video library so students worldwide can practice without boarding a 12-hour flight.
Host pop-up milongas in unexpected places—think museum lobbies and rooftop gardens.
Keep reminding people that art, like life, works best when you lead with connection and follow with courage.
TL;DR: I teach bodies to converse, minds to question, and hearts to stay wide open. If that sounds like your vibe, slide into the comments—or better yet, onto the dance floor. Let’s write the next chapter together, ocho by ocho, step by fearless step.
What I’ve done (so far) Kept the Golden-Age flame burning – Three decades on the pista, coaching 3 000-plus students from shy first-steppers to headline performers, across Buenos Aires, San Francisco, and the random rooftop that let me plug in a speaker.
Milonga-maker & host – Curated weekly socials in SF, drop-in practicas in BA, and pop-up dance-ins everywhere marbled floors beg for Valses.
Workshop wizard – Co-taught intensives with BA legends like Fiamma Clozza (April–May ’25 tour), plus masterclasses for wedding couples, engineers, and the occasional philosopher who thinks too much mid-ocho.
Life-coach in dance shoes – 400-plus one-on-ones turning existential dread into choreography; yes, catharsis can be counted in ocho cortados.
Capoeira cross-trainer – Because inverted kicks keep my Tango pivots humble (and my ego stretched).
Poet on paper & pista – Published verses on love, movement, and the ethics of a perfect embrace; performed them between tandas when the DJ let me near the mic.
Content creator – “History of Tango” YouTube series (Part 12 drops soon), shorts on body mechanics, and micro-essays that convince algorithms culture is cool.
Entrepreneur in beta – Building a booking-and-payments app so dancers spend less time scrolling, more time twirling; tinkering with an AI email-synth agent because inboxes shouldn’t kill creative flow.
Well-being guinea pig – 58 years, 55 kg, intermittent-fasting, strength-training, shooting for extra muscle without sacrificing airborne ganchos.
Work-in-progress, like every good tanda. Stay tuned. Why do I move?
Because music is the closest thing we mortals have to breath-made visible. Because every embrace is a tiny treaty signed between two beating hearts. Because tradition whispers “remember” while curiosity shouts “risk it!”—and I refuse to choose sides. Because in an age of doomscrolls and dopamine drip-feeds, a single well-timed ocho can unplug the Matrix for three glorious minutes. Because geometry‐in‐motion solves problems my rational mind can’t even phrase. Because the floorboards of La Pista carry stories older than my fears, and I’d rather dance with ghosts than sit with regrets. Because capoeira flips remind me the world is round, and tango pivots prove the center is wherever you decide to turn. Because coaching a shy beginner into their first confident giro is proof that alchemy wasn’t a myth—transformation is real and wearable. Because poetry doesn’t end on the page; it stretches into muscle fiber, tendon, and sweat, turning metaphor into momentum. Because life is short, asphalt is hard, and the milonga lights might go out tomorrow—so tonight we move, abrazo tight, as if every step is the punchline to the cosmic joke. Off the dance floor?
Off the dance floor
Language tinkerer – juggling Español, English, and baby-French like mismatched juggling balls I keep dropping (but I pick ’em back up—c’est la vie).
Kitchen alchemist – roasting garbanzos, pumpkin, and pork chops until the house smells like an edible sonnet. Extra garlic? Always.
Intermittent-fasting guinea pig – 55 kg of “let’s see what this macro tweak does” powered by black coffee and stubborn curiosity.
Weights & capoeira flips – adding muscle one dead-lift at a time so my ganchos stay airborne and my ego stays grounded.
History channel (DIY edition) – scripting & filming History of Tango videos because TikTok deserves a PhD in milonga lore.
App dreamer – building a booking-and-payments web app so dancers stop drowning in spreadsheets and start drowning in abrazos.
AI skeptic-optimist – training a polite email-writing agent; if it starts composing bad tanda requests, I’m pulling the plug.
Bookworm & philosopher at large – Nietzsche for breakfast, Antonine Artaud for lunch, and Borges for a midnight snack—because ideas are protein too.
Milonga cartographer – mapping every dance floor from SF to BA so you never wander aimlessly on a Friday night again.
Cheerleader-in-chief – Celebrate your wins, roast your excuses, repeat. Life’s too short for lukewarm enthusiasm.
That’s me when the music pauses—still moving, just in different rhythms. Dreams on deck — now with extra ritmo 🎙️🕺 Spin up “Tango-Flix.” A subscription video vault that delivers technique, history, and sass straight to your living room—no red-eye to Buenos Aires required.
Ship a zero-drama booking app. One tap to schedule, one tap to pay, zero spreadsheets—so you can stress about your boleo, not your calendar.
Throw pop-up milongas in wild places. Museum atriums at midnight, beach piers at dawn, maybe a subway platform if the buskers don’t mind sharing the floor.
Publish a bilingual anthology of tango verse. Borges meets Billie Eilish—because the swipe generation deserves lyricism with their cortados.
Launch a dancer-in-residence grant. Shoes, floor time, and mentorship for under-resourced youth from BA to SF; talent shouldn’t be gated by wallets.
Bench-press twice my body weight. Gravity is merely a suggestion, and I plan to lead aerial ganchos at 80.
File a memoir: “Ocho Cortado Through Time.” Before the punchlines fade—or worse, evolve into dad jokes.
Teach AI to say please and thank you. An etiquette module so inbox replies feel like hugs, not hostage notes.
Drop the mic on a new podcast. Long-form interviews with teachers, DJ-wizards, studio owners, and backstage hustlers—spotlighting the unfiltered struggles and small victories of the dance biz. Awareness first, solutions second, good gossip always.
Produce an inclusive tango showcase. One stage, every body: honoring tradition, amplifying fresh talent, and letting the next gen show the culture in high-def—menos elitismo, más abrazos.
Because dreaming is just rehearsal for reality—and my curtain call is nowhere in sight.
