Critic, translator… traitor? 

Can criticism be considered an act of translation?

The question echoed in my mind at one of our discussions at Springback Assembly 2024 (the annual meeting of writers from Aerowaves’ Springback Academy dance writing programme), in which we examined the many shapes and sizes translation comes up in our work as dance writers.

Definitely. A slightly imperfect one almost all of the time, someone responded immediately after I had asked my question out loud.

My thoughts quickly shifted to the Italian phrase Traduttore, traditore. In English, it would be translated as Translator, traitor. The process of translating thus becomes a process of betraying. At least, in part. 

In this framework, what happens if we look at the critic/writer as a translator/mediator between artistic creation and audience reception?

From this point of view, criticism becomes a creative and inherently imperfect act in itself, just like translation. By bridging the gap between the artist’s work and the audience’s response(s), critics actively shape the conversation around the work and offer windows through which it can be interpreted. Emphasising the need for more than one window(hence, more than one way of translating an art piece) is key. 

Of course, rather than striving to be like the original (which is impossible), a critic’s translation of a piece of art might better be described as a continuous process of deconstructing and then reconstructing the experience created by that artwork. Moreover, in today’s world, as the arts are constantly evolving and facing new challenges, our role as translators becomes pivotal in ensuring that diverse voices and stories are heard and understood.

Translating local scenes

If we zoom out furthermore, the intricate relationship between the artist, the artwork, the critic, and the audience reveals its multifaceted nature. International networks such as Springback, dedicated to connecting writers from all over Europe and fostering diverging outlooks on the contemporary dance scene, shed light on the global ramifications of our work as critics. This context challenges us to act not only as mediators between the creator’s vision and the audience’s experience, but also as conduits for a more extensive international cultural dialogue.

By giving us the opportunity to become part of a heterogenous group of dance writers, Springback Assembly highlights how each and every one of us can become a translator for the others. The existence of such a gathering place proves vital for articulating and navigating the complex dynamics of our local dance scenes. It is only through these tiny acts of translating ourselves that we contextualise our work and our artistic interests for our fellow Springbackers. This exchange is crucial: it fosters a collaborative spirit that enhances our writing and enriches our understanding of dance across European borders. 

The importance of networks

The fundamental role of platforms like Springback in nurturing these translation practices is a theme I find ripe for deeper exploration. To better understand how this works, let’s take a look at the core structure of our continuously expanding international network. 

First and foremost, a bunch of us European dance writers from a wide range of professional backgrounds gather together at Aerowaves’ annual Spring Forward festival, united by our shared desire to deepen our understating of contemporary dance. We debate. We watch and experience different performances. We debate some more. We try to put dance into words. We (quite often) fail. Then, as Samuel Beckett writes in his short prose piece ‘Worstward Ho!’, we fail better. Consequently, we learn how to make peace with the fact that no matter how hard we try, things still get lost in translation. Nevertheless, we let ourselves be permeable to social, political and cultural realities that might turn out to be radically different or strikingly similar to our own. We collectively share new practices, ideas and reflections on the current state(s) of dance throughout Europe. Finally, we return to our day-to-day lives, ever so slightly changed, now that we can tap into this newfound knowledge and find ways to translate it for the benefit of each of our local dance scenes. We become part of a network that is always there – and the most reassuring aspect of it all: we can always come back. In a different city. Alongside different Springback generations. With different burning topics to be discussed. But we can always come back. 

International networks that promote exchange and long-term collaboration are essential for the continuous evolution of dance criticism. After all, they ensure that both our individual and collective voices grow stronger and more nuanced in these turbulent times.