Practice English Reading Exercises for B2 – The Performing Arts: Dance & Movement 10

Exercises:   123456

Reading 1

You are going to read an article about four people describing their experiences during local youth dance competitions.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people (A-D). The people may be chosen more than once.

Which person

1   mentions inappropriate behaviour exhibited by adults?

2   refused to let the psychological tactics of others affect their focus?

3   had to cope with an unexpected obstacle right before going on stage?

4   confesses to constantly looking for flaws in the performances of their rivals?

5   regrets the loss of a friendship due to the competitive environment?

6   felt that their success was unfairly attributed to chance by other competitors?

7   believes that overcoming a malicious act made them a stronger competitor?

8   acknowledges that their obsession with winning ruined the experience for them?

9   noticed a sudden, negative shift in a peer’s attitude towards them?

10   was forced to alter their performance without any warning?

Backstage Drama: The Hidden Side of Dance Competitions

A Chloe

I’ve always taken dance incredibly seriously, perhaps too much so. Backstage at the regional finals, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. I remember standing in the wings, scrutinising the girls from the prestigious city academies. I confess I was actively searching for their weaknesses—a slight stumble, poor posture, or an off-beat leap—just to make myself feel superior and calm my nerves. Furthermore, the drive to win was all-consuming. Looking back, it’s a shame I took my talent for granted and let my desperate desire for a trophy overshadow the pure thrill of actually performing. While the other academies tried to unnerve us by loudly discussing their complex choreography, my teacher advised me to keep my head down. I really wish I had listened more closely. Ultimately, I was so wound up that I barely remember my own solo. I placed second, but instead of celebrating, I spent the entire journey home obsessing over a tiny mistake I’d made.

B Liam

You’d think local youth dance contests would be a supportive environment, but the reality is often quite the opposite. I found that out the hard way last year. Just minutes before I was due to perform my contemporary piece, I realised my custom-edited music track had been mysteriously removed from the sound technician’s desk. Absolute panic set in. I had to frantically swap to an unedited, much longer version of the song, forcing me to improvise the final thirty seconds of my routine on the spot. I was furiously angry, concluding it must have been an act of sabotage by a rival studio to ruin my chances. Nevertheless, surviving that terrible ordeal taught me a valuable lesson. If they hadn’t pulled that cruel stunt, I wouldn’t have discovered my ability to perform under extreme pressure. It toughened me up, and I bounced back with a newfound mental resilience. I’ve come to terms with the cutthroat nature of the industry now.

C Maya

What shocked me most about the competitive dance circuit wasn’t the dancers themselves, but the embarrassing conduct of the parents. At the national qualifiers last spring, I couldn’t believe my eyes when two mothers practically got into a furious shouting match in the crowded dressing room over mirror space. It completely ruined the supportive vibe we were supposed to share. But the hardest part for me was the personal cost of the competition. I had grown up dancing alongside a girl named Jess. We were inseparable until we were told that we would be competing against each other in the same solo category. Virtually overnight, she gave me the cold shoulder and wouldn’t even make eye contact in the holding area. It broke my heart that a cheap plastic medal could instantly destroy years of closeness. I genuinely love expressing myself on stage, but the toxic backstage politics really tested my passion for the art form.

D Sam

Coming from a small, underfunded community centre, my crew was always looked down upon by the elite, wealthy dance schools. Backstage, their dancers would often try to psych us out with condescending smiles and fake sympathy, whispering loudly about our inexpensive, homemade costumes. It was a deliberate, calculated strategy to break our confidence before we even stepped into the spotlight. Consequently, we made a collective decision to simply tune out their snide remarks and focus purely on our rhythm and energy. When we ended up taking the first-place trophy, the atmosphere in the green room turned absolutely freezing. Instead of congratulating us on our victory, the rival teams loudly complained that the judges had just felt sorry for us and that our win was nothing more than a complete fluke. They simply couldn’t accept that raw talent could outshine their expensive private tuition, but we certainly didn’t let their bitterness dull our sparkle.

Reading 2

You are going to read an article about four dancers reflecting on the moment they realized they danced not for fame or applause, but simply because their body needed to move.

For questions 1-10, choose from the people/sections (A-D). The people/sections may be chosen more than once.

Which person/section

1   mentions a realisation triggered while carrying out a completely ordinary activity?

2   discovered their desire to perform survived a deeply embarrassing moment?

3   purposely isolated themselves from modern pressures to regain their passion?

4   states that their need to dance feels like an automatic physical response?

5   explains how an obsession with flawless execution had stolen their joy?

6   realised they no longer cared about the verdict of those assessing their skills?

7   highlights that dancing acts as a way to cleanse themselves of built-up stress?

8   initially believed they had permanently lost their motivation to dance?

9   experienced a breakthrough in the middle of a highly competitive environment?

10   appreciates the freedom of moving without anyone watching them?

Beyond the Applause: Why We Really Dance

A Elena

I spent my teenage years relentlessly chasing the principal role in a prestigious ballet company. By my early twenties, the relentless pursuit of technical perfection had completely drained my enthusiasm. I was constantly comparing myself to others, and eventually, I walked away from the studio, convinced I had hung up my pointe shoes for good. I didn’t stretch or listen to classical music for months. Then, one rainy Tuesday, while I was simply waiting for the kettle to boil in my kitchen, a jazz song came on the radio. Without really thinking, I started swaying, then leaping across the linoleum floor. It hit me like a ton of bricks: I hadn’t lost my love for movement; I had just been suffocated by the desperate need for applause. Now, I dance for myself. If I had known earlier that true joy comes from within, rather than from a flawless pirouette, I would have saved myself years of misery.

B Marcus

In the underground hip-hop scene, reputation is everything. You spend hours agonizing over complex choreography, hoping a viral video will launch your career. Last year, I entered a major national battle, desperate to catch the eye of a famous talent scout in the front row. I stepped onto the stage, my heart pounding, but as the heavy bass dropped, something shifted. I suddenly stopped looking at the stern faces of the judges. Instead of executing the rigid, crowd-pleasing routine I had meticulously rehearsed, I just let the rhythm dictate my actions. I didn’t even notice who won the trophy that night. It was a profound epiphany; the fierce rivalry and the hunger for a lucrative contract faded into the background. I was no longer dancing to impress anyone or to climb the industry ladder. I was moving simply because the beat demanded it, and keeping still felt physically impossible. That was the most liberating performance of my life.

C Sophia

As a contemporary dancer, I fell into the trap of measuring my worth by the number of likes and positive comments my videos received. The constant demand to look aesthetic and emotionally profound for my online followers became utterly exhausting. Realising that I was performing for a virtual crowd rather than myself, I made the drastic decision to delete all my social media apps. That same evening, I booked an empty, dimly lit studio. There were no cameras, no mirrors, and absolutely no spectators. As I rolled and stretched across the cold floor, I felt the heavy burden of everyday anxieties melting away. It was a powerful reminder that dancing is, at its core, my personal therapy. It is the only effective way I can flush out the toxic energy of daily life. Had I not taken that step back from the digital spotlight, I might never have reconnected with the raw necessity of moving my body just to feel alive.

D Julian

Tap dancing has been my lifeblood since childhood, but my turning point wasn’t a triumphant victory. It occurred during a highly anticipated theatre showcase. Right in the middle of a complex solo, I slipped on a damp patch of wood and fell flat on my back in front of hundreds of people. The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Previously, such a public humiliation would have shattered my confidence and made me run off the stage in tears. However, as I lay there, my feet began to tap out a rhythm against the floorboards entirely on their own. It felt like an involuntary reflex, much like breathing. I burst out laughing, got up, and finished the set with a massive smile. I realised then that the audience’s approval was completely irrelevant to me. My body just needed to make noise. Even now, whether I’m waiting for a bus or sitting at a desk, my toes are constantly tapping. It’s an unstoppable urge, entirely detached from any desire for stardom.

Exercises:   123456