Spring Forward, the festival produced annually by the European dance network Aerowaves, brings together a selection of 20 artists from all across Europe to present their work to a professional global audience. From the 21st to the 23rd of March, Spring Forward 2024 took place in three vibrant German cities – Darmstadt, Wiesbaden, and Mainz. The festival featured 20 performances, bringing together 228 contemporary dance professionals from 47 countries and attracting approximately 1,750 local spectators across the three cities.
A key highlight of Spring Forward is Springback Academy, a unique dance writing mentorship programme, which aims to nurture emerging voices in the field of dance criticism. After a meticulous selection process that includes reviewing over 100 applications each year, 10 aspiring dance writers are chosen to join Springback Academy. The participants are mentored by a team of leading dance critics including Donald Hutera (The Times), Sanjoy Roy (The Guardian), Kelly Apter (The Scotsman) and Laura Cappelle (New York Times), the programme being directed by Oonagh Duckworth.
As a fellow member of the Springback Academy 2024 class, I had the opportunity to deepen my understanding of contemporary dance and its critical discourse. After kickstarting the year at Resolution (The Place, London), participating in Springback Academy provided another perfect opportunity to connect with a remarkable group of writers from across Europe. Thus, fueled by a strong belief in the power of dialogue, I am embarking on a mission to spark up more conversations about dance criticism. To further explore the intersection of dance and writing, I spoke with Sanjoy Roy, dance writer and mentor at Springback Academy.
Sanjoy Roy has written on dance for the Guardian since 2002, and contributed to many other publications internationally. He is a writing mentor for Springback Academy, a dance writing development programme by Aerowaves Europe, and editor of Springback Magazine. He was formerly production editor and book designer for Dance Books Ltd. In 2022 he published Work/World, a book of free-form exploratory essays starting from choreography by Ann Van den Broek. He keeps an archive of his writing at www.sanjoyroy.net.
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?
Sanjoy ROY: I never had any plans or ambitions to write, and to be honest, I’ve never really enjoyed writing. I started out more in publishing: editing, page design, typography. I had done a degree in biology, worked for 2 years at a medical publisher, and after a one-year dance course at Laban I got a job at a specialist bookseller/publisher called Dance Books. I did the editing and design for their books, and for their magazine. The editor in chief of the magazine suggested I write something for publication, and I thought: why not? More people started asking me to write, and I kept saying yes. Some years later, after I had already left Dance Books and was working completely outside the culture sector, the dance critic of the Guardian rang me to ask if I would try writing something for the newspaper. When you get a call like that, you don’t say no! That was in 2002, and since then I’ve been a freelance contributor to the Guardian, and written for a number of different publications. (I should add that what I earn from writing has always been a very minor part of my income.) Since 2018, I’ve also been the editor of Springback Magazine, a dance writing development project by Aerowaves Europe. It suits me well, as my main work is editing and publishing, with some writing on top. I still don’t enjoy writing, but I sometimes like having written. After I’ve written something I feel is good – well, sometimes I feel good too.
D.A.: As I mentioned during our chats back in Germany, dance writing is almost non-existent in Romania, but the dance scene is quite prolific. What do you think about the state of dance criticism in the UK right now? What would it take for dance writing to become more than a niche in today’s world?
S.R.: UK dance criticism is a shadow of its former self. During the 1980s and 1990s it established its own field of discourse around dance. That has really dissipated now, because the work is not there. Newspapers used to have dance critics, dance magazines used to exist – but they have pretty much all disappeared. The discourse has become more fragmented and short-term, and more directly subject to the interests of publicity and promotion.
Dance writing has always been niche, and I can’t see that changing. The question is how to strengthen it. First, we have to decide: is it worth having? Not everyone thinks so. Others think it is, but only when it works in their favour. But if it’s worth having, its value lies in the big picture, not the particular case.
To strengthen the niche, I think that the various sectors within what is called the „dance ecology” need to agree on what values dance writing has within the overall picture. Often, we see things only from our own standpoint, and I think it would be good to have a more panoramic and principled perspective. If that’s agreed, I think we may see more institutions cooperating to support and strengthen dance writing, both organisationally and financially. That is something that Aerowaves Europe has been doing with the Springback project, which launched in 2015, though the hows and whys of that are still very much in evolution. In short: it’s an ongoing process!
In any case, I think it’s good for us to notice the many parallels between what dance artists, producers and programmers do, and what dance writers, editors and publishers do. We all deal with creation, presentation and curation, with schedules and circulation, with partners and peers, and with the public. We don’t always have common interests, but we do have common grounds for understanding, and I think we can be stronger together.
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.R.: Classical dance tends to have reliable reference points, and that is one of its strengths. Contemporary dance tends not, because it keeps reinventing itself – and that is one of its strengths. That makes it difficult to say: make sure to look at this or that. I think a better approach is to ask ourselves a series of questions. What is happening here? How is it working, or not working? What do you connect with, or disconnect from? The key is to notice and to consider. It’s a more flexible approach than saying look for this or that. You have to be alert and alive to what is happening in the performance, and between you and the performance.
By the way, I think that you also have to be alert and alive to language. Because dance writing is not just about dance, it’s about writing. That sounds obvious, but it’s easily overlooked.
What makes a show stand out? There’s no one thing: I can think of many shows that stood out for many different reasons. But perhaps there’s something that can prevent a show from standing out: when it’s more idea than substance. There’s a story about painter Edgar Degas saying how many great ideas he had for poems, and the poet Stéphane Mallarmé replied: the problem is that poems are made of words, not ideas. It’s a good lesson. If a show is more intention than realisation, it could certainly be an interesting experiment and experience, but it’s not going to be a standout show, no matter how eloquently its ideas are set out in the programme notes.
D.A.: What does being a Springback Academy mentor mean to you? How do you approach your work alongside the emerging dance writers taking part in the programme? What is one thing you learned along the years from this process?
S.R.: Mentoring at Springback Academy is a highlight of my year. Meeting, watching, talking, writing, reflecting… it’s always a fascinating and rewarding experience – certainly for me, and I hope for the writers! I don’t try to “teach”, but I try instead to provide a framework, so that they have a sense not of what to write but of where their writing fits into the bigger picture, as a kind of communicational crossroads in the traffic of dance creation, performance and discourse. I also try to accompany the writers as they practice observing, experiencing, writing and revising. Everyone on the programme is motivated, skilled and curious, so it’s always been a pleasure for me to participate in this project.
One thing I find myself saying every year: don’t jump to the conclusion. Often people think that the purpose of reviewing is to offer interpretations and judgements, and so they try to get there quickly. But that often means skimping on telling readers what happened. So I often say: write a sketch of the event so that readers get a vivid sense of the event, the experience. Interpretations and judgements can and usually will emerge from that – and when they do, they are more embedded in the substance of the performance.
One more thing. Sometimes writers, especially those from academic backgrounds, feel they need to display their intelligence or expertise, otherwise they won’t be treated seriously. Let go of that insecurity. Focus on making the writing good, and the words will do the talking for you. You’re writing to the public, not to a peer-review panel.
D.A.: What would your advice be for someone who is just starting to write about dance? Tell us some do’s and don’ts not only for writing, but maybe also for peacefully coexisting alongside artists in the dance world. What do you think is the secret to a healthy artist-critic professional relationship in today’s world?
S.R.: To steal a phrase from Nike: just do it! No one learns how to write by thinking about it: you have to practise it. I don’t think you should worry too much about “finding your voice” or “being yourself”. Instead, I recommend trying things out and see how you feel about them (you don’t have to publish the results if you don’t like them). Try writing “in the style of” some writer you like and admire. You’ll probably fail, but in the process you’ll discover something about what you and your voice can be and do – and so you become more than you thought you were.
Here’s another piece of advice: don’t be a mirror, be a window. As a mirror, you hold your own image of the performance. It’s all about your reflections. As a window, you open view points for other people to look through. It’s not about you, it’s about offering others a way to apprehend a scene.
A healthy artist-critic professional relationship doesn’t come from agreement between artist and critic, but from respect for the work – each other’s, and their own. Respect is different from liking, or agreeing. We should also be aware that the artist-critic relationship is only one in a web of others, and it’s important to respect those too – particularly with audiences and readers. A healthy system facilitates healthy relationships within it.
D.A.: You are also the editor of Springback Magazine, the online platform where Academy writers get to publish their dance reviews during Spring Forward. After the festival ends, they are offered the chance to join a network of European dance writers and continue to publish their work. What do you think writers and publications could do to become more engaging given the contemporary reader’s increasingly short attention span?
S.R.: Ban Instagram reels? Rewrite algorithms? Write clickbait? I don’t think so! We can’t swim against the large currents of communicational developments. That doesn’t mean we have to dive into them, though. For writers, I’d say: write well. To do that, it can sometimes be quite helpful to be aware that your readers may be less attentive than you’d like. It helps craft your writing. Sometimes people think writing is all about subject and idea, but it’s not. It’s about style and structure too. They help engage your readers.
For publishers: hmm, good question! As a writer I think you face qualitative questions (how good is my text?), but as a publisher you also have to face the quantitative ones too: basically, metrical data about your reach and readership. Still, I don’t think quantitative imperatives should either drive or override qualitative ones. We’re dealing with cultural and artistic values here, not just market-optimisation strategies. I guess I’m saying: quality over quantity.
Words in Motion: SANJOY ROY on Dance Writing and Nurturing New Voices at Springback Academy
Publicat în: Teatrul azi nr. 7-8/2024
Rubrica: internațional
Spring Forward, the festival produced annually by the European dance network Aerowaves, brings together a selection of 20 artists from all across Europe to present their work to a professional global audience. From the 21st to the 23rd of March, Spring Forward 2024 took place in three vibrant German cities – Darmstadt, Wiesbaden, and Mainz. The festival featured 20 performances, bringing together 228 contemporary dance professionals from 47 countries and attracting approximately 1,750 local spectators across the three cities.
A key highlight of Spring Forward is Springback Academy, a unique dance writing mentorship programme, which aims to nurture emerging voices in the field of dance criticism. After a meticulous selection process that includes reviewing over 100 applications each year, 10 aspiring dance writers are chosen to join Springback Academy. The participants are mentored by a team of leading dance critics including Donald Hutera (The Times), Sanjoy Roy (The Guardian), Kelly Apter (The Scotsman) and Laura Cappelle (New York Times), the programme being directed by Oonagh Duckworth.
As a fellow member of the Springback Academy 2024 class, I had the opportunity to deepen my understanding of contemporary dance and its critical discourse. After kickstarting the year at Resolution (The Place, London), participating in Springback Academy provided another perfect opportunity to connect with a remarkable group of writers from across Europe. Thus, fueled by a strong belief in the power of dialogue, I am embarking on a mission to spark up more conversations about dance criticism. To further explore the intersection of dance and writing, I spoke with Sanjoy Roy, dance writer and mentor at Springback Academy.
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?
Sanjoy ROY: I never had any plans or ambitions to write, and to be honest, I’ve never really enjoyed writing. I started out more in publishing: editing, page design, typography. I had done a degree in biology, worked for 2 years at a medical publisher, and after a one-year dance course at Laban I got a job at a specialist bookseller/publisher called Dance Books. I did the editing and design for their books, and for their magazine. The editor in chief of the magazine suggested I write something for publication, and I thought: why not? More people started asking me to write, and I kept saying yes. Some years later, after I had already left Dance Books and was working completely outside the culture sector, the dance critic of the Guardian rang me to ask if I would try writing something for the newspaper. When you get a call like that, you don’t say no! That was in 2002, and since then I’ve been a freelance contributor to the Guardian, and written for a number of different publications. (I should add that what I earn from writing has always been a very minor part of my income.) Since 2018, I’ve also been the editor of Springback Magazine, a dance writing development project by Aerowaves Europe. It suits me well, as my main work is editing and publishing, with some writing on top. I still don’t enjoy writing, but I sometimes like having written. After I’ve written something I feel is good – well, sometimes I feel good too.
D.A.: As I mentioned during our chats back in Germany, dance writing is almost non-existent in Romania, but the dance scene is quite prolific. What do you think about the state of dance criticism in the UK right now? What would it take for dance writing to become more than a niche in today’s world?
S.R.: UK dance criticism is a shadow of its former self. During the 1980s and 1990s it established its own field of discourse around dance. That has really dissipated now, because the work is not there. Newspapers used to have dance critics, dance magazines used to exist – but they have pretty much all disappeared. The discourse has become more fragmented and short-term, and more directly subject to the interests of publicity and promotion.
Dance writing has always been niche, and I can’t see that changing. The question is how to strengthen it. First, we have to decide: is it worth having? Not everyone thinks so. Others think it is, but only when it works in their favour. But if it’s worth having, its value lies in the big picture, not the particular case.
To strengthen the niche, I think that the various sectors within what is called the „dance ecology” need to agree on what values dance writing has within the overall picture. Often, we see things only from our own standpoint, and I think it would be good to have a more panoramic and principled perspective. If that’s agreed, I think we may see more institutions cooperating to support and strengthen dance writing, both organisationally and financially. That is something that Aerowaves Europe has been doing with the Springback project, which launched in 2015, though the hows and whys of that are still very much in evolution. In short: it’s an ongoing process!
In any case, I think it’s good for us to notice the many parallels between what dance artists, producers and programmers do, and what dance writers, editors and publishers do. We all deal with creation, presentation and curation, with schedules and circulation, with partners and peers, and with the public. We don’t always have common interests, but we do have common grounds for understanding, and I think we can be stronger together.
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.R.: Classical dance tends to have reliable reference points, and that is one of its strengths. Contemporary dance tends not, because it keeps reinventing itself – and that is one of its strengths. That makes it difficult to say: make sure to look at this or that. I think a better approach is to ask ourselves a series of questions. What is happening here? How is it working, or not working? What do you connect with, or disconnect from? The key is to notice and to consider. It’s a more flexible approach than saying look for this or that. You have to be alert and alive to what is happening in the performance, and between you and the performance.
By the way, I think that you also have to be alert and alive to language. Because dance writing is not just about dance, it’s about writing. That sounds obvious, but it’s easily overlooked.
What makes a show stand out? There’s no one thing: I can think of many shows that stood out for many different reasons. But perhaps there’s something that can prevent a show from standing out: when it’s more idea than substance. There’s a story about painter Edgar Degas saying how many great ideas he had for poems, and the poet Stéphane Mallarmé replied: the problem is that poems are made of words, not ideas. It’s a good lesson. If a show is more intention than realisation, it could certainly be an interesting experiment and experience, but it’s not going to be a standout show, no matter how eloquently its ideas are set out in the programme notes.
D.A.: What does being a Springback Academy mentor mean to you? How do you approach your work alongside the emerging dance writers taking part in the programme? What is one thing you learned along the years from this process?
S.R.: Mentoring at Springback Academy is a highlight of my year. Meeting, watching, talking, writing, reflecting… it’s always a fascinating and rewarding experience – certainly for me, and I hope for the writers! I don’t try to “teach”, but I try instead to provide a framework, so that they have a sense not of what to write but of where their writing fits into the bigger picture, as a kind of communicational crossroads in the traffic of dance creation, performance and discourse. I also try to accompany the writers as they practice observing, experiencing, writing and revising. Everyone on the programme is motivated, skilled and curious, so it’s always been a pleasure for me to participate in this project.
One thing I find myself saying every year: don’t jump to the conclusion. Often people think that the purpose of reviewing is to offer interpretations and judgements, and so they try to get there quickly. But that often means skimping on telling readers what happened. So I often say: write a sketch of the event so that readers get a vivid sense of the event, the experience. Interpretations and judgements can and usually will emerge from that – and when they do, they are more embedded in the substance of the performance.
One more thing. Sometimes writers, especially those from academic backgrounds, feel they need to display their intelligence or expertise, otherwise they won’t be treated seriously. Let go of that insecurity. Focus on making the writing good, and the words will do the talking for you. You’re writing to the public, not to a peer-review panel.
D.A.: What would your advice be for someone who is just starting to write about dance? Tell us some do’s and don’ts not only for writing, but maybe also for peacefully coexisting alongside artists in the dance world. What do you think is the secret to a healthy artist-critic professional relationship in today’s world?
S.R.: To steal a phrase from Nike: just do it! No one learns how to write by thinking about it: you have to practise it. I don’t think you should worry too much about “finding your voice” or “being yourself”. Instead, I recommend trying things out and see how you feel about them (you don’t have to publish the results if you don’t like them). Try writing “in the style of” some writer you like and admire. You’ll probably fail, but in the process you’ll discover something about what you and your voice can be and do – and so you become more than you thought you were.
Here’s another piece of advice: don’t be a mirror, be a window. As a mirror, you hold your own image of the performance. It’s all about your reflections. As a window, you open view points for other people to look through. It’s not about you, it’s about offering others a way to apprehend a scene.
A healthy artist-critic professional relationship doesn’t come from agreement between artist and critic, but from respect for the work – each other’s, and their own. Respect is different from liking, or agreeing. We should also be aware that the artist-critic relationship is only one in a web of others, and it’s important to respect those too – particularly with audiences and readers. A healthy system facilitates healthy relationships within it.
D.A.: You are also the editor of Springback Magazine, the online platform where Academy writers get to publish their dance reviews during Spring Forward. After the festival ends, they are offered the chance to join a network of European dance writers and continue to publish their work. What do you think writers and publications could do to become more engaging given the contemporary reader’s increasingly short attention span?
S.R.: Ban Instagram reels? Rewrite algorithms? Write clickbait? I don’t think so! We can’t swim against the large currents of communicational developments. That doesn’t mean we have to dive into them, though. For writers, I’d say: write well. To do that, it can sometimes be quite helpful to be aware that your readers may be less attentive than you’d like. It helps craft your writing. Sometimes people think writing is all about subject and idea, but it’s not. It’s about style and structure too. They help engage your readers.
For publishers: hmm, good question! As a writer I think you face qualitative questions (how good is my text?), but as a publisher you also have to face the quantitative ones too: basically, metrical data about your reach and readership. Still, I don’t think quantitative imperatives should either drive or override qualitative ones. We’re dealing with cultural and artistic values here, not just market-optimisation strategies. I guess I’m saying: quality over quantity.