Are Forró Schools Changing Dance Culture - For Better or Worse?
- Rafael Piccolotto de Lima
- 1 day ago
- 6 min read
A reflection on how teaching and forró schools are transforming the culture of forró and the dynamics of social dances.
A necessary provocation
Are forró schools ruining forró culture?
Or, put another way: to what extent are forró schools changing forró - and what are the impacts on the culture, the dance itself, and social dance events?
This provocative question does not come out of nowhere.
This reflection resonates, in a way, with me - someone involved in forró education and in the development of the scene outside of Brazil. Someone who also teaches online and produces content about forró on one of the most far-reaching channels in this niche, especially in the context of classes, dance demonstration videos, and dance events outside of Brazil.
By the way, if you’d like to follow this work more closely, here are the direct links to the YouTube channel and Instagram:
So, at first glance, this question and the writing of this post might seem like a contradictory stance coming from an educator.
But that is precisely the point of this post: to bring these questions from the perspective of someone who works with education.
This is not a statement, but a provocation - a way of naming a discomfort that has been gaining space and appearing frequently on social media.
Discussions about the dynamics of social dances, about changes in the way people dance, about small groups who tend to dance among themselves, about level separation in schools, and about who dances with whom - and why.
These changes are also reflected in the different forms and styles within forró. One example is a relatively more recent style, known as Roots. I also have a blog here on the site where I talk about the origins and characteristics of this way of dancing:
All of this has been questioned, and two things stand out to me. That’s what this text is about.
Forró Schools Changing Dance Culture: Two Sides of the Same Process
Here, we are talking about the development of the dance, the culture around it, and the way forró has been taking shape as a cultural movement over time.
Within this process, there are two main axes that help organize this conversation.
In both, there is a constant tension between formalization and organicity.
From this perspective, I see two central points:
The first is the formalization of a dance that originally emerged and developed in an organic way.
The second is the social dynamics of dance events and the cultural context of those who take part in them.
The formalization of dance (forró schools)
One of the things that fascinated me most about forró - and, in some ways, what drew me to it - was precisely its lack of formalization. From the beginning, what stood out to me was how each person danced differently, with creative freedom and the possibility to move in many ways, even with a limited set of steps.
This lack of rigidity meant that the dance was not a space of right and wrong. It was a space for play, creation, and spontaneity.
At the same time, this freedom did not exist in a vacuum, but within a shared language. It was an environment where the dance developed in a natural and flexible way, grounded in a basic structure that gave meaning and coherence to what was happening.
In contrast, other dances that are more institutionalized within academies often felt more rigid and structured to me. There is a higher “barrier to entry,” with more defined rules, specific postures, carefully delimited steps, and pre-established movements. In this type of context, an important critique emerges: the practice can sometimes resemble the repetition of rehearsed sequences more than true improvisation on the dance floor.
In these cases, the dance can lose part of its character as a game and as a form of listening. Creativity may become more limited, often restricted to choosing sequences or adding small variations, rather than being present in the construction of the dance as a whole.
It is precisely in this contrast that the organic nature of forró stands out. This freedom of construction, this flexibility, and this stylistic diversity have always felt central to its identity.
At the same time, it is natural that as any dance develops - especially when it begins to be taught in a more structured way - processes of standardization emerge. Educators, schools, and teachers inevitably create priorities, select content, and organize teaching methods. This can lead to a certain systematization of movement and, in some cases, a gradual rigidity.
This process does not happen only on the teaching side. There is also demand coming from dancers themselves. There is a constant desire for progress, for learning, for acquiring new movements, and for technical development. In many cases, there is also a search for distinction: more experienced dancers tend to want to demonstrate control, complexity, and surprise on the dance floor.
On social media and digital platforms, this tendency intensifies even more, with an incentive to create movements that impress, that are more visually striking or more elaborate. This contributes to a process of progressive sophistication in the dance.
Given this, a central question arises: does the formalization of forró through dance schools support or harm forró culture?
To what extent is this process of evolution, standardization, and formalization positive for forró culture?
To what extent does it contribute to the collective experience in social dances and to the inclusion of new participants?
And at what point does it begin to create barriers that may distance the very qualities that have always been one of the strengths of the dance - its openness and accessibility?
The social dynamics of forró dance events
When the dance was simpler, more improvised, and less structured, the entry point was naturally lower. Anyone could arrive, dance, have fun, and participate, even without experience, without feeling intimidated.
As the technical level increases, with the incorporation of more complex movements and the emergence of a certain expectation of performance on the dance floor, the environment can begin to feel more intimidating. This especially affects those who do not take classes, who do not train regularly, or who have not invested many hours in learning the dance.
In this context, a barrier to entry emerges. And along with it, a possible form of exclusion. In the long term, this can even be harmful to the events themselves, which lose diversity, lose new participants, and end up limiting their own growth.
Once again, we see both sides happening at the same time.
These dynamics also appear in how people choose - or avoid - dancing with each other, often for reasons that are not immediately clear.
So, does a higher technical level improve the dance, or does it make forró less accessible to beginners?
Do dance schools help include more people, or do they create new forms of separation within social dances?
Questions about the future of forró
These tensions do not have simple answers. They point to an ongoing reflection that needs to be collective, shaped by those who are part of the scene.
As an educator and active contributor, I look for a path where it is possible to teach and offer structure without limiting the organic nature of the dance.
At the same time, I value the space of the social dance as a place to play, connect, and simply enjoy the experience, even in its most basic form.
If you are just starting or reflecting on which path to follow within this universe, I wrote another text exploring different ways of learning forró.
If you’re thinking about starting or trying your first class, it may help to understand what that experience actually feels like in practice.
And if you’re wondering whether forró is difficult to learn, this perspective might help reframe that question.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rafael Piccolotto de Lima is the Founder and Educational Director of Forró New York, as well as a Latin Grammy-nominated composer, arranger, and music director.
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