To these questions, Mr. Brinas has a plain answer: “I don’t take, I give,” he wrote in an email.

“I didn’t exploit the malambo or any of its artists,” he explained further. “I gave them recognition and nobility by taking them on well renowned stages.”

A former ballet dancer with Lyon Opera Ballet, among other troupes, Mr. Brinas said he first encountered malambo in the 1970s when he saw an Argentine folkloric troupe performing in a Parisian cabaret. He found himself captivated by the drumming and the percussive footwork, or zapateo. “I had caught malambo fever,” he said, “but it was asleep in me.”

In spring 2004, the fever reawakened. “My decision was immediate and irreversible,” he wrote. “I knew I had to pursue malambo.” He flew to Buenos Aires to recruit dancers — and face skepticism.

“Nobody believed in this idea,” he said. Unlike the tango, malambo had never gained an international following. It was a part of folkloric presentations and competitions, not commercial theater. It was a dance for two or four or, especially, one, not for an ensemble of 14. Malambo routines typically lasted two to five minutes, not the length of a show.

And, Mr. Brinas was an outsider. “Knowing nothing about Argentine folklore at the beginning, I naïvely believed that anything was possible,” he said. “I had no barriers, and I was free.”