Resolution is the UK’s biggest dance festival dedicated to showcasing the work of new choreographers, hosted every year at The Place (London). For three weeks, a group of emerging dance writers is selected to participate in Resolution Review – a dance criticism programme dedicated to honing critical voices and creating a dynamic dialogue between writers and artists participating in the festival. After being accepted into Resolution Review 2024, I got the chance to watch and review nine pieces presented in this year’s edition of Resolution, while being mentored by leading professional dance critics – Josephine Leask, Emily May, Rachel Elderkin, Graham Watts, Bruce Marriott and Matthew Paluch, with the whole programme being coordinated by Suzanne Frost. Meeting and working alongside them encouraged me to completely rethink what critical writing could and should be in today’s world. This series of interviews, in which we explore their vast international dance writing experience, might turn out to be the perfect inspiration for expanding Romanian dance into more than the niche it is today.
Suzanne Louise Frost is a PR professional, writer and dramaturg working in dance. Born in Berlin, she studied classical ballet at the Staatliche Ballettschule Berlin and danced professionally in Europe and Asia, finding an artistic home at the Lido de Paris from 2004-2014. Moving through the company from swing to demi-soloist to dance captain, she also studied journalism and PR backstage in her show make up and heels via long-distance university. An internship at Barrie Kosky’s Komische Oper Berlin opened her eyes for the art of dramaturgy and inspired a move to London to obtain an MA in Theatre Criticism and Dramaturgy from the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. She spent the year after graduation immersed in London’s cultural landscape as editorial assistant at London Calling, reviewing everything from exhibitions to theatre, opera, dance, food and fringe events. In September 2018, she joined The Place, London’s hub for contemporary dance, as Press and PR Manager. In 2019 she became part of the cohort of Springback Academy writers, and reviews regularly for Mark Aspen theatre reviews. She hosted workshops on dance writing at Skanes danse in Sweden, and recently finished her first novel.
Daria ANCUȚA: Firstly, I would like to know more about your professional background. How and when did you first start writing about dance? Where does it fit into your current schedule and activity?
Suzanne FROST: I have been a professional dancer for over 10 years, and towards the end of my career felt I would like to become a dance critic. I literally studied for a journalism degree in my dressing room between shows. Later on, I added an MA in Dramaturgy. I worked as a cultural critic in London for one year, and while it was possibly the happiest I have ever been in a job, I couldn’t live off the pay. I have changed sides to in-house press and PR – from reviewing to pitching – for two reasons: first, to be closer to artists and the creative process again – as a critic you tend to come in at the end to view a finished show. And secondly, to have some kind of stability, not just financially but also in terms of work-life balance and career progression.
A lot of the dance writing I do now is marketing copy, press releases and pitches, some syndicated interviews and Q&As with artists, the odd dance writing workshop, newsletters, business reports, and if I’m lucky I might co-author, or ghost write some meatier articles such as opinion pieces or case studies in industry publications. One of the most impressive things I have ever written was a briefing on the impact of Brexit on the dance industry that was discussed in the House of Lords! Seeing your name printed under a review is exciting but hearing a Lord quote from your paper was a whole different level of thrill.
D.A.: As I mentioned during our chats in London, dance writing is almost non-existent in Romania, even though the dance scene is quite prolific. Even though things are looking a bit brighter in the UK, we talked a lot about the so-called „death of criticism” (newspapers, magazines and online cultural platforms suffering savage cuts or disappearing completely). What do you think it would take for dance writing to become more than a niche in today’s world?
S.F.: Let’s face it: dance is a niche. Even within the performing arts it is the least watched, least funded, least respected. We seem to be forever trying to justify the relevance of dance or prove its impact, and writing about dance may actually play a role in that, I think. If you want to get dance out of its niche, I suppose we should look at movement more generally, where movement happens naturally, and what function it has, for example within storytelling (body language is our number one tool of communication as humans!), social situations and rituals, the movie industry, in health and wellbeing, in organised formation (protests!) etc.
I think if we can link dance to big pop culture movements or moments, whether that’s K-Pop or the “Saltburn” dance or political marches or the Haka at the Rugby World cup – we may slowly bring dance more to the forefront of peoples’ consciousness. Also, as writers, I think we must entertain, because reading is essentially a leisure activity that people choose to do for the joy it brings them. For an example of pure reading joy I would recommend Ariadne Reviews laugh-out-loud, GIF peppered recaps of Strictly Come Dancing – they are potentially even more fun than watching the show – or Rachel Shukert’s legendary recaps of the TV show Smash – if writing had Jazz hands this would be it.
What both of these writers do is lend their dance expertise and their writing skills to pop culture formats.
D.A.: What are the things you make sure to look at when watching a contemporary dance piece?What makes a show you’re reviewing stand out to you?
S.F.: The theatre critic Mark Fischer had 3 principles when reviewing:
What did the show intend to achieve?
Did it achieve it?
And was it worth doing in the first place?
I think we must judge each piece against its own criteria. Not so much “did I like it, and why or why not”. But rather, did it do what it set out to do? Did it give the audience what it promised? Unfortunately, I see so many choreographers absorbed in their own research or their own experience of movement and forgetting about the audience, how to draw them into a world. A standout show is one that was created FOR an audience to experience, it is an invitation to connect, whether that is with a narrative or a character or a mood or just an idea– I don’t care what, but it is not for that dancing person to experience, it has to be for the observer. The third question, was it worth doing in the first place, is the toughest – if we are being honest, there is a lot of dance work out there where you wonder if that really needed to exist…
D.A.: The reviews we write in Resolution Review have quite an interesting format – the limited character count challenges you to be more concise and thus makes for a very enjoyable read. What do you think writers and publications could do to become more engaging given the contemporary reader’s increasingly shorter attention span?
S.F.: A few loose thoughts here:
People want to do, not watch
Looking at the rise and rise of immersive performances and setting, audiences these days don’t just want to be presented with something, they want to be part of the action and have a role in the process. A performer is nothing without an audience. A writer is nothing without a reader. How can we involve our readership? How can we create open forums for discussions that people can take part in? How can audiences (and artists) react to reviews? How can a review not be the final verdict, but rather a prompt for further engagement?
Also, big long paragraphs are scary. Imagine a review that is actually a conversation between two people. You both get one sentence at a time. Wouldn’t that be fun!
People are reading less and less, but we all spend hours scrolling through our phones watching random stuff.
Video content is everything. The average Instagram story segment is only 15 seconds, but you’d be surprised how much you can speak in 15 seconds. What I’m trying to say is, as much as we may hone our writing skills, we should also spend time becoming confident public speakers. In fact, I think there is a massive opening for an Instagram influencer for dance! People are doing theatre reviews online already, but I don’t know anyone doing it for dance. I’m a mum now, I don’t have time to watch all these shows, but if I could that’s what I would be doing: get a selfie stick and bring it to all the shows and record a 15 second review. Go!
Find your tribe/Feed your tribe
We established earlier that peoples’ attention spans are getting shorter, but at the same time, fans choose to watch 20-minute-long in-depth analyses of Game of Thrones episodes or deep dive into Taylor Swift lyrics, mulling over every single detail and hidden messages. Book clubs are back in popularity again! So, it seems once you have found your tribe – and of course dance only has a small tribe – you can actually take your time, go really deep, and have substantial discussions. Again, discussions, whether online or in real life, need to be mediated, and the critic needs to be able to not just state opinions but also listen. At The Place we have noticed that our post show discussions are getting more and more attendance. People decide to stay after a show and want to find out more and talk about it. I sometimes host those post show talks, and while it’s absolutely terrifying I do believe it is essential that we practise those public speaking skills. A dancer or choreographer who is also an articulate speaker is a winning combination. Audiences love it and they love getting really involved and having that close personal connection. Also sitting down as an artist and critic having a conversation is a really good exercise to acknowledge each other’s skills and expertise and humanity.
D.A.: What would your advice be for someone who is just starting to write about dance?
S.F.: If you are starting out as a writer, READ! Get to know different voices in criticism, understand different styles, copy them (just as an exercise), understand the structure, the formula of reviewing, then subvert it, go against the grain, find your own voice.
As a writer you are a storyteller. Any creative writing courses are always a good idea. All the rules of creative writing apply to reviewing as well: clean, simple sentences, no endless word-worms where you get lost in your own grammar. Juicy, sensual adjectives, descriptive words that ignite our senses as a reader, words that immediately start a chain of associations in our brain. Active sentences rather than passive construction. Dancing is movement, use active movement verbs. Get the Thesaurus out and find that word that is precisely right: was that a jump, or was it a lurch, a pounce, a plunge? They all describe a completely different intention within the movement.
D.A.:Tell us some do’s and don’ts not only for writing, but maybe also for peacefully co-existing alongside artists in the dance world? Given that it is quite a small one, what do you think is the secret to a healthy artist-critic professional relationship?
S.F.: Coexisting peacefully with artists…. I think there are a lot of misconceptions, particularly on the artist’s side. Why would you automatically think that a critic has to be your enemy? We don’t get anything from tearing you down. If anything, we are trying desperately to give your artform a platform. Why would you “hate the press”? A free independent press is one of the pillars that democracy stands and falls on. Why would you think that writing is somehow a lesser artistic endeavour to performing? You should try it. Writing is an art form all in itself.
All coexisting is based on respect and understanding. Both artists and critics work in this industry because they passionately love dance. I think we should try and understand each other’s professions better. I don’t know any critic who wants an artist to fail. I never go to a show looking forward to how bad it will be and what nasty things I can say about it. I am giving my time and money (sometimes, sometimes not) to a show, always in the hope that there will be something good there. Otherwise, I could have stayed at home on the couch. These days I’m also paying a babysitter and miss out on bringing my kid to bed – I am 100% begging for this show to be good!
Another misconception seems to be that critics are somehow “powerful” enough to make or break your career. Ben Brentley is maybe, but we are not all on Broadway. Your average reviewer has come rushing to see your show from their day job, with no time for dinner, they’ll spend the interval awkwardly alone nursing their one free drink if they’re lucky, then rush home to catch the last train to their tiny flat share in zone 5 where they type their review in bed at midnight, only for an editor to cut down half their words and put a wrong headline on it. If they are lucky, they get 50 bugs for it. More often they get nothing at all. How powerful do you think that feels?
One of the main misconceptions from artists seems to be that the critic should somehow be useful to them and their work. That’s not their job. They are not on your payroll. What you’re looking for is a dramaturg (and critics can make excellent dramaturgs!). Dramaturgs are not often used in dance and a lot of work, especially narrative work, is weaker for it. The critic then takes on that role of being a first responder, advocating for the audience. And when the critic says, I didn’t get it, the intention didn’t translate for me as a viewer, the artist gets upset. But at that point it is already too late in the process. What was missing was a dramaturg – but I get it, it is mostly financially impossible. Even more reason then maybe, for artists to engage with critics and read those reviews and take criticism on bord. It’s free advice from another industry expert, and it might lead to that breakthrough. I have had artists thanking critics for a bad review – of course not right away, nobody enjoys being criticised – but sometimes years later when something clicked and the work got better for it.
Dance writing resolutions with Suzanne Frost
Publicat în: Teatrul azi nr. 3-4/2024
Rubrica: internațional
Resolution is the UK’s biggest dance festival dedicated to showcasing the work of new choreographers, hosted every year at The Place (London). For three weeks, a group of emerging dance writers is selected to participate in Resolution Review – a dance criticism programme dedicated to honing critical voices and creating a dynamic dialogue between writers and artists participating in the festival. After being accepted into Resolution Review 2024, I got the chance to watch and review nine pieces presented in this year’s edition of Resolution, while being mentored by leading professional dance critics – Josephine Leask, Emily May, Rachel Elderkin, Graham Watts, Bruce Marriott and Matthew Paluch, with the whole programme being coordinated by Suzanne Frost. Meeting and working alongside them encouraged me to completely rethink what critical writing could and should be in today’s world. This series of interviews, in which we explore their vast international dance writing experience, might turn out to be the perfect inspiration for expanding Romanian dance into more than the niche it is today.
Daria ANCUȚA: Firstly, I would like to know more about your professional background. How and when did you first start writing about dance? Where does it fit into your current schedule and activity?
Suzanne FROST: I have been a professional dancer for over 10 years, and towards the end of my career felt I would like to become a dance critic. I literally studied for a journalism degree in my dressing room between shows. Later on, I added an MA in Dramaturgy. I worked as a cultural critic in London for one year, and while it was possibly the happiest I have ever been in a job, I couldn’t live off the pay. I have changed sides to in-house press and PR – from reviewing to pitching – for two reasons: first, to be closer to artists and the creative process again – as a critic you tend to come in at the end to view a finished show. And secondly, to have some kind of stability, not just financially but also in terms of work-life balance and career progression.
A lot of the dance writing I do now is marketing copy, press releases and pitches, some syndicated interviews and Q&As with artists, the odd dance writing workshop, newsletters, business reports, and if I’m lucky I might co-author, or ghost write some meatier articles such as opinion pieces or case studies in industry publications. One of the most impressive things I have ever written was a briefing on the impact of Brexit on the dance industry that was discussed in the House of Lords! Seeing your name printed under a review is exciting but hearing a Lord quote from your paper was a whole different level of thrill.
D.A.: As I mentioned during our chats in London, dance writing is almost non-existent in Romania, even though the dance scene is quite prolific. Even though things are looking a bit brighter in the UK, we talked a lot about the so-called „death of criticism” (newspapers, magazines and online cultural platforms suffering savage cuts or disappearing completely). What do you think it would take for dance writing to become more than a niche in today’s world?
S.F.: Let’s face it: dance is a niche. Even within the performing arts it is the least watched, least funded, least respected. We seem to be forever trying to justify the relevance of dance or prove its impact, and writing about dance may actually play a role in that, I think. If you want to get dance out of its niche, I suppose we should look at movement more generally, where movement happens naturally, and what function it has, for example within storytelling (body language is our number one tool of communication as humans!), social situations and rituals, the movie industry, in health and wellbeing, in organised formation (protests!) etc.
I think if we can link dance to big pop culture movements or moments, whether that’s K-Pop or the “Saltburn” dance or political marches or the Haka at the Rugby World cup – we may slowly bring dance more to the forefront of peoples’ consciousness. Also, as writers, I think we must entertain, because reading is essentially a leisure activity that people choose to do for the joy it brings them. For an example of pure reading joy I would recommend Ariadne Reviews laugh-out-loud, GIF peppered recaps of Strictly Come Dancing – they are potentially even more fun than watching the show – or Rachel Shukert’s legendary recaps of the TV show Smash – if writing had Jazz hands this would be it.
What both of these writers do is lend their dance expertise and their writing skills to pop culture formats.
D.A.: What are the things you make sure to look at when watching a contemporary dance piece? What makes a show you’re reviewing stand out to you?
S.F.: The theatre critic Mark Fischer had 3 principles when reviewing:
What did the show intend to achieve?
Did it achieve it?
And was it worth doing in the first place?
I think we must judge each piece against its own criteria. Not so much “did I like it, and why or why not”. But rather, did it do what it set out to do? Did it give the audience what it promised? Unfortunately, I see so many choreographers absorbed in their own research or their own experience of movement and forgetting about the audience, how to draw them into a world. A standout show is one that was created FOR an audience to experience, it is an invitation to connect, whether that is with a narrative or a character or a mood or just an idea– I don’t care what, but it is not for that dancing person to experience, it has to be for the observer. The third question, was it worth doing in the first place, is the toughest – if we are being honest, there is a lot of dance work out there where you wonder if that really needed to exist…
D.A.: The reviews we write in Resolution Review have quite an interesting format – the limited character count challenges you to be more concise and thus makes for a very enjoyable read. What do you think writers and publications could do to become more engaging given the contemporary reader’s increasingly shorter attention span?
S.F.: A few loose thoughts here:
People want to do, not watch
Looking at the rise and rise of immersive performances and setting, audiences these days don’t just want to be presented with something, they want to be part of the action and have a role in the process. A performer is nothing without an audience. A writer is nothing without a reader. How can we involve our readership? How can we create open forums for discussions that people can take part in? How can audiences (and artists) react to reviews? How can a review not be the final verdict, but rather a prompt for further engagement?
Also, big long paragraphs are scary. Imagine a review that is actually a conversation between two people. You both get one sentence at a time. Wouldn’t that be fun!
People are reading less and less, but we all spend hours scrolling through our phones watching random stuff.
Video content is everything. The average Instagram story segment is only 15 seconds, but you’d be surprised how much you can speak in 15 seconds. What I’m trying to say is, as much as we may hone our writing skills, we should also spend time becoming confident public speakers. In fact, I think there is a massive opening for an Instagram influencer for dance! People are doing theatre reviews online already, but I don’t know anyone doing it for dance. I’m a mum now, I don’t have time to watch all these shows, but if I could that’s what I would be doing: get a selfie stick and bring it to all the shows and record a 15 second review. Go!
Find your tribe/Feed your tribe
We established earlier that peoples’ attention spans are getting shorter, but at the same time, fans choose to watch 20-minute-long in-depth analyses of Game of Thrones episodes or deep dive into Taylor Swift lyrics, mulling over every single detail and hidden messages. Book clubs are back in popularity again! So, it seems once you have found your tribe – and of course dance only has a small tribe – you can actually take your time, go really deep, and have substantial discussions. Again, discussions, whether online or in real life, need to be mediated, and the critic needs to be able to not just state opinions but also listen. At The Place we have noticed that our post show discussions are getting more and more attendance. People decide to stay after a show and want to find out more and talk about it. I sometimes host those post show talks, and while it’s absolutely terrifying I do believe it is essential that we practise those public speaking skills. A dancer or choreographer who is also an articulate speaker is a winning combination. Audiences love it and they love getting really involved and having that close personal connection. Also sitting down as an artist and critic having a conversation is a really good exercise to acknowledge each other’s skills and expertise and humanity.
D.A.: What would your advice be for someone who is just starting to write about dance?
S.F.: If you are starting out as a writer, READ! Get to know different voices in criticism, understand different styles, copy them (just as an exercise), understand the structure, the formula of reviewing, then subvert it, go against the grain, find your own voice.
As a writer you are a storyteller. Any creative writing courses are always a good idea. All the rules of creative writing apply to reviewing as well: clean, simple sentences, no endless word-worms where you get lost in your own grammar. Juicy, sensual adjectives, descriptive words that ignite our senses as a reader, words that immediately start a chain of associations in our brain. Active sentences rather than passive construction. Dancing is movement, use active movement verbs. Get the Thesaurus out and find that word that is precisely right: was that a jump, or was it a lurch, a pounce, a plunge? They all describe a completely different intention within the movement.
D.A.: Tell us some do’s and don’ts not only for writing, but maybe also for peacefully co-existing alongside artists in the dance world? Given that it is quite a small one, what do you think is the secret to a healthy artist-critic professional relationship?
S.F.: Coexisting peacefully with artists…. I think there are a lot of misconceptions, particularly on the artist’s side. Why would you automatically think that a critic has to be your enemy? We don’t get anything from tearing you down. If anything, we are trying desperately to give your artform a platform. Why would you “hate the press”? A free independent press is one of the pillars that democracy stands and falls on. Why would you think that writing is somehow a lesser artistic endeavour to performing? You should try it. Writing is an art form all in itself.
All coexisting is based on respect and understanding. Both artists and critics work in this industry because they passionately love dance. I think we should try and understand each other’s professions better. I don’t know any critic who wants an artist to fail. I never go to a show looking forward to how bad it will be and what nasty things I can say about it. I am giving my time and money (sometimes, sometimes not) to a show, always in the hope that there will be something good there. Otherwise, I could have stayed at home on the couch. These days I’m also paying a babysitter and miss out on bringing my kid to bed – I am 100% begging for this show to be good!
Another misconception seems to be that critics are somehow “powerful” enough to make or break your career. Ben Brentley is maybe, but we are not all on Broadway. Your average reviewer has come rushing to see your show from their day job, with no time for dinner, they’ll spend the interval awkwardly alone nursing their one free drink if they’re lucky, then rush home to catch the last train to their tiny flat share in zone 5 where they type their review in bed at midnight, only for an editor to cut down half their words and put a wrong headline on it. If they are lucky, they get 50 bugs for it. More often they get nothing at all. How powerful do you think that feels?
One of the main misconceptions from artists seems to be that the critic should somehow be useful to them and their work. That’s not their job. They are not on your payroll. What you’re looking for is a dramaturg (and critics can make excellent dramaturgs!). Dramaturgs are not often used in dance and a lot of work, especially narrative work, is weaker for it. The critic then takes on that role of being a first responder, advocating for the audience. And when the critic says, I didn’t get it, the intention didn’t translate for me as a viewer, the artist gets upset. But at that point it is already too late in the process. What was missing was a dramaturg – but I get it, it is mostly financially impossible. Even more reason then maybe, for artists to engage with critics and read those reviews and take criticism on bord. It’s free advice from another industry expert, and it might lead to that breakthrough. I have had artists thanking critics for a bad review – of course not right away, nobody enjoys being criticised – but sometimes years later when something clicked and the work got better for it.