Planning a concert? Remember who it’s for…

I’ve always felt that planning a dance concert is much like planning a wedding. The organisation, the rehearsals, the schedules, the outfits—it all has that same mix of stress, excitement, and anticipation. When I planned my own wedding, it felt exactly like preparing for a concert… just with fewer costume changes and an older cast!

As studio owners and teachers, our minds race with checklists: music edits, lighting cues, ticket sales, backstage helpers, programmes, costumes, hair, makeup. It’s endless. It’s easy to get caught up in the details when you’re the one responsible for pulling it all together and sometimes, in the midst of the chaos, we can forget the most important thing… your concert isn’t about you!

Yes, it’s the biggest event on your studio calendar. Yes, it’s your name on the poster. Yes, people will congratulate you afterwards for an incredible show. But at its core, a dance concert isn’t a showcase of you—it’s a celebration of your students.

That shift in perspective changed everything for me. On concert day, I actually find myself quite relaxed (with the exception of quick costume changes!). The heavy lifting is done. Once that curtain rises, my job is finished. The stage belongs to the kids. People often comment on how happy my students look during their shows, and I think that’s because the pressure isn’t on them to be “perfect.” It’s not about flawless spacing or whether every bow is sitting at the same angle—it’s about joy.

And that joy matters far more than the details we so often obsess over. When you look back on your own concerts as a student, do you remember if your line was perfectly straight or if you nailed every cue? Probably not. What you remember is the thrill of the lights, the rush of the music, the feeling of being celebrated—and maybe even the things that went wrong. Those are the memories our students deserve too.

I remind myself constantly: I’ve had my time on stage. I’ve done my concerts, felt the applause, and collected those memories. Now, it’s about my students. Concert day is where we celebrate every single child—whether they take one class a week or live at the studio six days out of seven. Their experience is equally important.

Of course, as studio owners and teachers, we want things to look polished and professional. We want the audience to be proud of the show they’ve bought a ticket to see. But here’s the secret: the audience is made up of parents, grandparents, siblings, and friends. They aren’t looking for perfection. They’re looking for their child’s smile, their progress, their growth, and the sheer excitement of being part of something special.

So, as concert season approaches, remind yourself our job isn’t to put on a “perfect” concert. Our role is to give our students a joyful one—one that makes them feel proud, celebrated, and connected to their studio family. Because long after the lights go down and the music fades, that feeling will be what stays with them.