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Are You A 'Dance Snob'6?

She introduced herself as a former modern dancer, teacher and company director. I could tell from her strong limbs, slight figure, and short salt-and-pepper hair that her dance training had been lengthy and solid. The lines around her impish eyes signaled years under the stage lights. The posture and smoothness of good dance training haunts a body eternally; it sustains a person in everything they do. Effortless grace swirled around her as she slid into the auditorium seat next to me. The show on stage was over but the crowd appeared reluctant to separate themselves from the essence of the performance. The lingering feeling signals a good show and this woman obviously wanted to talk about the show.

After listening to my "new friend's" abbreviated version of her life as a dancer (she needed to qualify her ability to comment on the show by telling me about her background,) I asked her what she thought about the ballet. I could sense that she wanted me to ask.

"I'm a dance snob," she answered with apparent pride. "I had some bad ballet classes when I was younger, but my modern training was based in ballet like (Merce) Cunningham's. There was no one on stage tonight being asked to do something they weren't capable of doing." In other words, a 'safe' performance. Was this a compliment or a sideswipe?

The company was made up of well rehearsed local ballet students ranging in ages from ten to twenty. Technique was strong and the choreography was thoughtful and interesting even for the novice audience member. There are hundreds of dance companies like this everywhere in the country. The two dozen or so young dancers exhibited dedication and happiness. But this woman was saying they had given a predictable performance, one without risks or adventure, and she claimed to have the pedigree to make that observation. Are there dance snobs in your audiences? Are you a dance snob?

Happy audience, happy dancers, happy director. Why did the self-proclaimed dance snob's comment about capabilities ring so true? And what does it matter? "You never know who's in the audience," a friend's mother once told me when I was a young performer. Was this woman a snob or a politically correct dance critic saying the show was unexciting? How could a seasoned dancer call an almost error-free performance safe and unexciting? Had experience taught her the value of taking a chance with dancing and how liberating the effect can be for the dancer and the audience? Did she have the right to make her judgments?

Following a few more sublime compliments, she told me that after much comparison shopping, she had actually been taking ballet lessons in the performing company's school. "I take at least the barre. Center is too much for my joints," she explained. Snob or no, this might have been the only school in town that would welcome a 70 year-old former dancer and teacher into classes. Because I made no apparent effort to agree or disagree with her assessment of the show, she felt compelled to continue in the form of building up her own credibility. Two dance degrees, a school, a company, and a twirl in New York City had, in her mind, sufficiently equipped her with the resources to critique the performance. Why did she feel the need to judge at all?

Teachers are trained to evaluate and offer criticism for the growth of the student and the betterment of the group. Perhaps it was instinct for this former dancer and teacher to talk about how she viewed the program. Maybe it was just so ingrained in her dance experience, like it is for so many dancers, that a critique is offered following a show whether you're involved or not. An audience member is involved aren't they? And this person felt more than involved being a student in the school as well as a patron. Even though her comment about nothing challenging on stage was diplomatic, does she have the right to criticize the show? In the current environment of everybody-has-an-opinion-and-the-right-to-it, "dance snobs" are everywhere. But what does it mean to be a "dance snob"?

Honestly, I had to do some Internet sleuthing to familiarize myself with the phrase. I had never heard it used until this particular encounter. I had a general knowledge about what a snob is but not a "dance snob." Thank you, Google for the massive amount of detail regarding this question.

Apparently, the word snob is derived from a nickname for 18th century nobility or 'nobs.' This social class regularly considers themselves above everyone else because of pedigree. A "dance snob" is currently used in ballroom dance circles to refer to someone who will only dance with partners they know. A "dance snob" will not dance with strangers or beginners because they consider them lower in rank. A college dance department website explains, "Dancing with different partners will help you become a better social dancer by teaching you to adjust to the leading or following skills of others. It will also make you appear less of a Dance Snob to other dancers." Wickipedia lists a number of snobs (beer, car, wannabe, etc.) as some of the contemporary usage. Possibly it means someone who is particular about their beer or cars, in this case, someone who is picky about their dance: a dance snob.

One Internet blogger (talker) says that a dance snob is a 'hot shot' and that the title is more about attitude than altitude (appearing to be 'above' other dancers.) Since dance has always been a highly competitive art, it isn't surprising that contemporary lingo has invaded the dance world and created "dance snobs." The word is defamatory for most people, but obviously it has evolved into a semi-flattering chic term. It seems to be giving critics a new identity.

The question for the dancer is do you want to be entertained or do you want to pick apart a performance for some personal gratification? Why can't dancers appreciate the efforts of others, applaud the good, and keep silent about the not so good? Because...

"You never know who's in the audience."

Joy Held is the author of Writer Wellness, A Writer's Path to Health and Creativity (New Leaf Books, 2003.) She can be contacted at yogajoy@charter.net.