Dance is more than a string of movements—it is a lingua franca which crosses borders, speaks the ineffable, and unites people through shared emotion and narrative. As a form of art, it reflects the range of human experience, from sorrow and joy to resistance and hope, turning stages into arenas where bodies become reflections of social truths. Choreography, the design of this kinetic poetry, raises dance to a conversation between tradition and innovation, combining disciplines such as theater, music, and visual art to subvert norms and spark change. The dance is a bridge, holding on to cultural heritage while creating new ways of expression that mirror modern-day struggles and victories. But its greatest strength is in inclusivity: the idea that movement is a right, not an entitlement. From community workshops to international productions, inclusive processes democratize creativity, promoting empathy and solidarity. Choreographers such as Beatriz Castro have this spirit, employing their art to give voice to silenced stories and redefine dance as a force for social justice. Through symposia for disabled artists or adaptive pedagogies, inclusivity guarantees dance as a living, dynamic force that heals, empowers, and unites. Beatriz Castro—Bessie Award-winning choreographer, educator, and indefatigable activist—embodies the redemptive energy of dance through a career forged at the crossroads of art and activism.
Drawing from boundary-breaking ensembles such as Spark Dance Collective and Verbal Animal, Castro has worked alongside artists such as Lauri Stallings and Johnny Butler, developing pieces such as Flat Circles and Girl Crush that probe time, femininity, and cultural identity. Her dual practice as performer and Marketing Associate for Verbal Animal, as well as her innovative teaching at Notes in Motion and Brooklyn Dance Conservatory, is a testament to a dogged devotion to accessibility. From adapting Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring into a communal ritual to designing inclusive curricula for neurodiverse students, Castro’s journey is how dance can dismantle barriers and amplify silenced voices. Her counsel provides guiding wisdom for young artists. For dancers and choreographers struggling with perfectionism, burnout, or institutional exclusion, Castro’s insights—about embracing vulnerability, understanding stages as shared conversations, and redefining “inclusivity” as co-creation—are compass and catalyst. In an industry where tradition conflicts with innovation, her teachings remind us that dance’s future is in celebrating its heritage while pushing to rewrite its rules.
For the show “Invulnerable Nothings”, director C.C. Kellogg personally approached Beatriz Castro due to her demonstrated versatility and talent, specifically her ability to portray both the girl and the cow roles in the production *Calf Scramble*. Beatriz has an extensive background working with Matthew Gasda and the Brooklyn Center for Theatre Research. Notably, she collaborated with Gasda in *Dimes Square*, a widely acclaimed theatrical success. Additionally, she took on the role of Miranda, a dancer, in Gasda’s *The Mountain That Echoes Back*, a deeply psychological and dream-like play. An intriguing aspect of this character was that, despite being a dancer, Miranda performed no dance movements in the production. Beatriz delivered a masterful performance, skillfully embodying the complex nuances of Miranda’s character without relying on traditional dance, highlighting her exceptional interpretative skills and adaptability.
- Embrace Vulnerability as Strength, Structure as Freedom
Beatriz Castro’s time at Spark Dance Collective introduced her to two life-changing philosophies: Kar’mel Smalls’ raw emotionality and Jonathan Colafrancesco’s structured improvisation. Smalls instructed her to extract beauty from imperfection, employing mundane gestures such as a heavy drop or a quivering hesitation to express unvarnished humanity. Colafrancesco, on the other hand, approached choreography as a rhythmic puzzle, where precise timing ironically released spontaneity. Castro’s synthesis of these methodologies emphasizes that vulnerability and discipline are not opposites but allies. In her words, “From Kar’mel, I bring an intention to emotional candor—granting flaw and humanity as foundations for the work. From Jonathan, I learned admiration for structure as a canvas for freedom.” This dualism now characterizes her work. Whether composing a sentence that starts as a tightly coiled rhythm and then disintegrates into mad abandon or teaching dancers to find “flaws” as storytelling devices, Castro demonstrates that structure frees, not traps. Her counsel to artists? Let technical precision serve emotional authenticity. A pirouette becomes deep not by virtue of perfection, but by virtue of the stories it tells.
- Use Performance as a Communal Rite
To Castro, dance transcends the self—it is a shared language. Such was the experience in Lauri Stallings’ Rite of Spring, where gasps and silence among the audience and silences themselves merged with Stravinsky’s music and body movement. The stage became one of shared reverie in which performers and viewers created meaning jointly, their separate breath synchronizing into one unified rhythm. In Beatriz’s own words, “It wasn’t a performance; it was a dialogue. The audience’s energy became its own pulse in the room.” Castro encourages artists to see viewers not as mere spectators but as essential co-participants. Through the creation of pieces that invite emotional engagement—either through interactive choreography or themes that universally resonate—dance has the power to bridge polarities. Her Rite of Spring was a “communal ritual,” a reminder that art’s strength is that it can make strangers one by virtue of shared vulnerability.
- Negotiate Between Creator and Interpreter—They’re the Same Heartbeat
Castro’s double role as choreographer and performer in Girl Crush involved reconciling careful planning with raw presence. She crafted improvisational exercises such as “trace the edges of your shadow” to allow for spontaneity, taping rehearsals to critique her work from both sides. This process erased the distinction between creator and interpreter, showing them as interdependent aspects of artistry. “Creating is forward-thinking—’What needs to be said?’—but when I’m performing, I require presence, this radical honesty with the body in the moment. Creator and interpreter are two rhythms in the same heartbeat,” Beatriz said. Her recommendation? Have faith in the body as a repository. Choreography lays out the framework, but performance gives life to the framework. Embracing duality—working intensively yet releasing oneself into the present—is the way for artists to produce work that seems at once thoughtful and organic.
- Advocate Through Art. Administration is Creativity in Disguise
At Verbal Animal, Castro balanced performing and Marketing Associate duties, converting kinetic energy into grant proposals and social media campaigns. She redefined administrative work as acts of creativity, using narrative to explain why dance is essential outside the studio. “Advocacy is not separate from artistry—it’s bridging the gap between studio and society. A grant application became narrative; a donor meeting, a chance to put a face on our process,” Beatriz stated. Castro calls on artists to make advocacy a part of their practice. While writing a mission statement or selling a show, approach bureaucratic work with the same enthusiasm that drives rehearsals. By closing the gap between art and administration, artists guarantee that their work speaks to many and will outlast them.
- Teach to Learn: Let Every Body Co-Author the Story
Her experiences at Notes in Motion and Brooklyn Dance Conservatory instructed Castro that dance is not a privilege but a birthright. She customizes classes according to each age group: converting preschoolers into jungle explorers using scarves and taking teenagers on improvisation journeys through “map your heartbeat through space.” “Tailoring classes for various ages is similar to writing a symphony. With pre-schoolers, we ‘paint the air’ using scarves. Teenagers receive improvisation prompts such as ‘map your heartbeat through space’ that promote agency,” Beatriz said. Her teaching style stresses play and trust over perfection. By addressing students where they’re at—whether rebranding a plié as a “secret spy crouch” or acknowledging a toddler’s uncomplicated joy—Castro frees up natural creativity. Teaching, she says, rekindles her own artistry, demonstrating that each body contains the potential to rewrite dance’s ever-changing script.
Beatriz Castro’s path—from Spark Dance Collective’s studios to classrooms humming with the magic of childhood—is securing dance as a language of resilience, uprising, and radical compassion. Her counsel, framed in years of striking a balance between structure and possibility, art and advocacy, provides a pathway for artists traversing a changing world. And yet, in honoring her impact, we are also challenged by urgent questions: How could the acceptance of imperfection alter our quest for “flawless” art?
