Love for Dance, Culture, and Life in Ukraine with Lana Nicole Niland
We’re so excited to welcome another guest to Vsi, and we’re even more excited you found your way here to enjoy this conversation! To listen to the episode, go to this link. For those who prefer the written word, below is an edited transcript from this episode featuring Lana Nicole Niland.
The Fill-in-the-Blanks
To start off, let’s do a few finish-the-sentence questions. We’ll start the sentence, and you finish it.
Your favourite Ukrainian dance region is… All of them. Although I will say I love Central because there is a beautiful female quality that you don’t get in any other region.
Your favourite dance footwear is… Postmark Ukraine, zvychaino (of course)!
If you had to eat one Ukrainian food for the rest of your life, it would be… Kvashena kapusta, a.k.a. fermented cabbage.
Your favourite colour of Postmark character shoe is… Oooh, I have a beautiful new pair that’s a champagne colour with a sparkle in them.
Your closest friends call you by the nickname… Lanusia.
Your favourite Ukrainian celebrity is… Lala Fonareva, the wife of Slava Vakarchuk (lead singer of Okean Elzy)
The Q + A
Here we are with another guest on Vsi! We are so happy to welcome Lana Nicole Niland to the podcast. You’ve gotten a small glimpse into who Lana is from the quick fill-in-the-blanks at the start, but of course there is so much more to learn about her! Lana currently lives in Ukraine but maintains a strong connection to Canada. Lana danced with Pavlychenko Folklorique Ensemble in Saskatoon and the Virsky Ensemble in Kyiv and is a business owner. Her titles don’t end there, as she is also a writer, editor, choreographer, instructor, and a whole lot of other things that we’re excited to learn more about in this chat! So, let’s go!
Lana Nicole Niland popping a pose in a Postmark bodysuit.
Let’s start off with your Ukrainian dance journey. What was your experience like dancing in Canada, and how did you end up dancing with Virsky?
The story is quite long. I knew I wanted to dance quite young, and ballet was the first step. My parents had put me in the Saskatoon School of Ballet at the time, which is now Saskatoon School of Dance.
The director of that studio at the time was Lusia Pavlychenko — a famous Canadian dance teacher and choreographer. She had such a love for her culture, and she was offering Ukrainian dance in the studio at the same time as ballet, tap, jazz, and all of that good stuff.
I just fell in love with the costumes and the energy. As I got older, the girls got to dance with boys, and that was a pull at the time. There was a moment when I thought maybe Ukrainian dance wasn’t the way to go, and it was going to be ballet, but I got pulled back in during puberty.
It was around that time as well that Serhij Koroliuk had come over — I think I was about 12 — and the first number that he choreographed for the group I was in was Ivanku, which was a tribute to Ivana Kupala. We were in these beautiful ethereal gowns with white bodysuits underneath, and we were carrying vinky (flower wreaths), and it was so different from anything that I had ever done before that the love for a culture, for something that was bigger than just being in the studio, was solidified that much more. This continued to grow as I got to learn more about the dance, the culture, Serhij, and everything that embraced.
So your background doesn’t actually have any Ukrainian roots, but your soul is Ukrainian!
That’s right. I’m not Ukrainian. I’m Irish, Norwegian, and Czechoslovakian — I’ve got the Slavic in there a little bit. The whole Ukrainian thing has sort of just come about organically. Though I will say that there was one lady who told me that in a previous life I was from Vinnytsia. Maybe it’s there somewhere, but it’s not from this life.
You grew up dancing a bunch of different styles, and then eventually you had this pull toward Ukrainian dance, which led you to Pavlychenko Folklorique Ensemble. Tell us how dancing with Pavlychenko turned into dancing with Virsky in Ukraine.
Dance was always a pull for me away from home — home was difficult, frankly. To be able to be in the studio was a bit of an escape, which was wonderful in many ways. It also opened a door for me in terms of career. Getting into the studio as much as I could was definitely number one — ballet, tap, jazz, hip-hop, Ukrainian, pretty much six days a week, even in Canada. After school, on the weekends — that was pretty normal for me.
“I sat watching Virsky on the edge of my seat, and I thought, I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I am going to dance with this group.”
When Pavlychenko returned from Ukraine in 1992, they went through a shift, as many groups do after a big tour. This massive group of 35 to 40 people dropped down to 12. Those of us who were transitioning up from the younger groups really got a pass, if you’d like, into the group. We became so close so quickly, as you do in any case in a Ukrainian group, that family is the only way I can talk about it. It continued to grow from there — we slowly regrouped, and the group became bigger and bigger.
Then Virsky came to town. I sat watching them in the Centennial Auditorium in Saskatoon on the edge of my seat — we probably had the best seats in the house because I think I was the first to order — and I thought, I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I am going to dance with this group. I just fell in love with them. I think I was 18 at the time.
That weekend, Vantukh was giving a workshop in Saskatoon, and there were a number of groups from all over the province who had come. I would never have known it at the time, except Serhij Koroliuk had said that he had pointed me out — that was quite special for me, and I thought this was a sign that this was going to happen, this has to happen.
It wasn’t going to happen immediately, though — it was another eight years before I made it to Ukraine. I didn’t end up there until after I finished school and a few things in between, as well as the passing of my father.
Lana (left) with the late Lusia Pavlychenko (centre).
Wow, I’m imagining being in the studio and being pointed out — that’s pretty special. Also, when you mentioned that you “felt it” when you were watching Virsky in Centennial Auditorium, I got chills. It’s one of those things that you felt was your next step, you noticed it, and you didn’t know when it was going to happen, but you knew it had to happen.
Absolutely. I won’t say that all of the inspired moments of my life have been so successful, in terms of monetary or moving up the career ladder. But what I have been able to experience is something that has been just out of this world, whether it has been dance or life in Ukraine, including two revolutions. Those things are priceless. I won’t say that it has always been the best decision in that regard, but it’s never boring. It’s always interesting in Ukraine.
And so you finally find yourself in Ukraine. What was your experience like dancing with Virsky?
I arrived in 2003. Pavlychenko had just done a tour in Ukraine that summer, and I had auditioned before I came. Vantukh said he would take me on the condition that I worked with Virsky Studio. I worked with the Studio for one year and was with Studio 21, which features a lot of the dancers who are still there — Maksym and Viktoria Karpenko, Tatiana Zhemska, Vladimir Safronov. There are still quite a few dancers who I worked with in the Studio days. We graduated in 2004, and there was a good majority of us who were taken into the Ensemble.
I received a diploma from Virsky Studio, and in September of the following summer, I started coming as an Artist of the Ballet. To be able to do that, not just as a student, not just as a foreigner who was coming to learn, but as a part of a whole, that was pretty special.
Our schedule was such that from Monday to Friday, we were doing ballet classes in the morning. For technique (after ballet), we would switch back and forth with the boys every other day. We would have a full cast rehearsal from noon to 4 p.m. It’s a full-time job — some people think that dancing with Virsky is just a couple of times a week, and then that’s it.
Fridays we did rehearsal with the live orchestra. Witnessing that for the first time was just out of this world. Being able to be in the same room, and being fully present and conscious that this was happening — I got to be in this space as one of these people who are at the top of their game, it’s the best of the best. If you think about hockey, it’s like Wayne Gretzky and the Oilers, or Jordan and the Bulls. This is what it was like at Virsky, and I got to be part of something so incredible. It was pretty amazing.
You’re talking about the feeling, and we can feel it in your words. You’re talking about these people who are the best of the best in what they do, and when we trained with the Studio we saw these sort of people trying to get into the company — they were there for a reason. Did you feel a pressure to make yourself stand out in the studio when you were there?
I’m far more conscious now than I was back then, and no, I wasn’t ever trying to stand out — in fact, I was probably trying to sort of blend in because I felt overwhelmed. I felt almost a bit Canadian in that.
Here in Ukraine, you get your elbows out if you want to get in line. You don’t wait for the signal of the car in front of you, you just go — there’s no requesting of anything. Whereas in Canada, we’re a little bit more polite. “Would you like to go ahead?” “No, you first.” There’s none of that in Ukraine. I didn’t recognize that until probably a few years after I had arrived. And if I had realized it a little earlier, maybe my dance career would have pushed even further forward, but that’s not who I was and really isn’t even who I am now.
It was about doing the best I could, absolutely. It was definitely about staying after hours because I recognized that even though I was accepted, there were things that I could definitely work on. Also, I was older than the other girls who were in my Studio. In terms of a dancer’s lineage, I was past prime. I recognized that I needed to work harder than anybody else, both the older and the younger ones — the older ones had already proved themselves, and the younger ones were amazing — to make sure I was up to par, all the time. It was constantly a physical and psychological struggle.
Lana’s graduation with Studio 21 in 2004.
You already kind of mentioned some differences of Ukrainian life and characteristics and how this applies in the studio — being more elbows out versus “Oh, sorry” Canadian. What are some other differences between dancing in Canada and Ukraine — maybe differences in character, or maybe styles and approach to Ukrainian dance?
I’ll say a couple of things. First of all, the strength of Canadian women dancers outshines that of anyone in Ukraine. Canadian-Ukrainian dancers are so confident and strong and unwavering in their ability, and that is amazing. They will go out on stage and have no problem doing what they do — obertas 13 times and then switch splits however many times. In Ukraine, there’s an idea that you want to be the star, but there’s more of a demureness about it.
I think it comes down to culture, actually. Women in Canada have had to fight for some of the things they’ve got outside of the studio — rights and so on. In Ukraine, there is still this idea of men’s roles and women’s roles, and there isn’t too much of a fight to push the boundaries. Women in the studio are definitely softer in Ukraine, and there is a feeling of femininity that I think is beautiful.
My dream, having come back and forth between Ukraine and Canada, is to be able to unite the two. If we could do that, the world of Ukrainian dance would change forever. Because then we would not just be looking at women who are wallflowers for a good part of a concert in Ukraine versus “I’ll get down in my sharovary like any guy” in Canada, but if we could unite the two that would be the next evolution of women in Ukrainian dance.
Well, I think if there’s anyone to do it, we’re talking to her — you’re definitely doing a lot to make that happen! While dancing in the studio in Ukraine, did you notice there were any quirks that the dancers had? Maybe it was totally normal to them but new to you.
I think that the way dancers interact with each other, regardless of where you are or what kind of dance you do, is quite special. I think that anyone outside of an ensemble would recognize there is something there — they might question whether it’s right or not, in terms of the interaction, but I think it’s generally innocent whatever interaction that might be. Because we are dancers and because there is that physical interaction between men and women, certainly in Ukrainian dance, there is that relationship that exists because you spend so much time together. I don’t know that it’s out of the ordinary, especially for dancers. In terms of quirks, I can’t think of any others — dance has been a part of my life for many decades.
When we were there, a few things stood out to us. For example, during breaks, dancers wouldn’t drink water but would drink hot tea, and that’s not something we’re used to in Canada — we’re used to drinking cold, cold water! Also in Canada, we drink a lot of water but in Ukraine dancers just have a sip.
There definitely are quirks, maybe not all connected to the studio! For example, sitting on anything that’s cold — for a woman, that’s completely out of the question. If you sit down on the floor, a man will take off his boots for you to sit on so you aren’t sitting on a “cold” floor. There are some quirks, but I think they’re actually quite sweet and endearing.
When you were dancing with Virsky, did you have a favourite dance to perform, or maybe even a favourite performance?
Lana (center) in costume for her favourite Virsky dance to perform, Khmel.
Yep, Khmel is my favourite dance by far! Khmel are the hops that are used to make alcohol. In the dance, there’s a girl, and some men come and drink the hops, and the men get drunk. There are more girls who enter the stage at a later time. There’s this interaction with the khmelnychky and the men who are dancing on stage — it’s cute and feminine.
There’s some interplay between the men and women and some magic that happens with how people get on and off stage as well. It’s such a lovely suite that anyone watching, Ukrainian or not, would enjoy it. I think that’s where Pavlo Virsky was really able to shine, in the stories he was able to tell. He was not just bringing Ukrainian dance to stage — taking village dance and elevating it to an academic level — he was also able to tell these stories of Ukrainian culture. Khmel is definitely one of my favourite dances.
In fact, the first time I danced on stage with Virsky was for the 70th anniversary of the Virsky Ensemble, and I danced Hopak and Khmel. It was at the Palace of Ukraine, and Victor Yushchenko (President of Ukraine at the time) was in the audience. It was in 2004 and just prior to the Orange Revolution. Yushchenko came up on stage and pictures were going on — there was huge security and whatnot. It was definitely a memorable concert.
My first tour was to China and following that was to Georgia, France, and Mexico, and on and on. It’s all quite memorable.
I guess Virsky is what extended your stay in Ukraine, but after that you didn’t quite come back to Canada. What made you want to stay in Ukraine?
The plan was only to dance in Ukraine for a year or two and then come back to Canada to start real life. But dance in the studio with Virsky was too endearing — I couldn’t stop after a year or two. I had a small injury prior to a tour to Mexico, which I probably shouldn’t have gone on but I did. Following my return from that, doctors said that I needed to take some time off. By this time I was already no moloda kurka, no spring chicken, so I decided that would probably be my retirement.
“With friction, there is often advancement.”
At that point, I moved into media. There was an opportunity for me to slip into an editorship with What’s On Kyiv — an English-language culture and entertainment magazine — that happened quite seamlessly. I stepped out of the studio in January and into the editorship in March of 2009. I moved into that role and stayed there until 2013 when the country erupted with Euromaidan and the revolution — that’s also a chapter not only in the country’s life but in mine.
The What’s On office was on Khreshchatyk, just across from Besarabsky Market, and Maidan was 500 metres down the street. Each day, either prior to or after work, we would go and bang on some gas tanks with the locals and demonstrate our solidarity. In February 2014, it really became apparent that this was not going to end well. The revolution, which came to a climax on Maidan, moved to the eastern part of Ukraine. Even at this moment, there’s an accumulation of troupes on the border. It’s a little bit scary from time to time, but showing our solidarity no matter where we are — in Ukraine, Canada, Australia, Brazil — as Ukrainians or people who care about Ukraine is pretty important.
The way you talk about your connection to Ukraine, you can just hear your love, dedication, and pride for the country. It’s really inspiring to hear in so many ways. It’s not just dance — it’s political, it’s pride, it’s your soul — it’s really amazing to hear this passion behind you.
Thanks, guys. It’s true — I said at the beginning that life in Ukraine isn’t always easy, but it’s never boring. I think that’s one of the things that makes it such an interesting existence. There’s also an energy here that I don’t think I’ve felt anywhere else in the world. It’s not that nowhere else in the world compares, it’s that there is something here — chto-to, as we say in Ukraine. It’s something you can’t describe or put into words.
Postmark Ukraine
I think it’s that special “something” in Ukraine, but also the fact that you connect with that something’ You seem to have found your nook and cranny in Ukraine, and you seem to fit well.
Absolutely. And I think you feel that too!
It seems we all have the same energy source, same fuel, and that’s Ukraine.
When did you start Postmark Ukraine? Tell us a little bit about what that is.
The revolution basically put an end to our publishing business. There was a point where we couldn’t publish any further because the magazine was dependent on advertising, and no one was going to be advertising with an upcoming war. You basically start from ground zero again. What do you do when a country is at war?
Every once in a while I would get these requests from Canada — “Can you find me this, can you find me that?” A few months in, a year later, there’s this idea that if there’s a need maybe there’s a business here. In November 2015, I officially launched Postmark Ukraine — we are coming up six years in November 2021.
I’m not a business person — I graduated from the University of Saskatchewan with a psychology and sociology degree. I was supposed to work with delinquent children. I knew nothing about business — I was really working from ground zero. Everything I have done to this point has been learning along the way. There have been a lot of mistakes if a business person was looking in. I also think that’s what makes the business stronger. We’ve learned what works and what doesn’t, and what direction we should go in, and why we shouldn’t do it this way, and so on.
What’s really exciting about Postmark is that we don’t just get to make people happy in Canada, the U.S., U.K., or Australia with our goods, it’s that I get to work with these absolutely amazing Ukrainian masters in different parts of Ukraine. They all love what they do, whether it’s making costumes, doing hand embroidery, working with their hands to make beautiful leather shoes, or my jewellery master in Lviv — everybody has a story in Ukraine, and certainly all of these masters do as well. I’ve been able to get to know them. Pulling them into the Postmark family has just been awesome.
Lana and a RAUD dancer in their colourful Postmark character shoes.
I love that you’re not just providing people outside of Ukraine things that they want from Ukraine, but you’re also promoting these masters and helping tell their stories. You’re sharing Ukrainian culture in a contemporary way and making it relevant to people everywhere — it’s powerful.
It’s so great! I’ve had a few clients come back and say they are so excited that they get to contribute to the salaries of Ukrainians who are in different parts of the country — in a selo (village) here, or a city in the east — and you absolutely are! Any purchase that happens through Postmark Ukraine is a direct connection to these people — these fabulously, talented people. So well done to all of the Postmark clients!
In addition to Postmark, you have a lot of other projects on the go. You are one of the founders of Rodovid Academy of Ukrainian Dance, you are the editor of What’s On Kyiv, plus you have the Ukrainian Dance World Magazine you have contributed to and worked on. We’re probably missing something else in there, so what do you have on the go right now?
Because of COVID-19, What’s On is sleeping at the moment — there’s not a lot happening, and Kyiv is in lockdown until May 10th. It just doesn’t make sense to have the magazine going right now. Ukrainian Dance World Magazine, which is under Cobblestone Freeway and run by Vincent Rees, is also sleeping at the moment. What’s On and Ukrainian Dance World are cuddled up in bed for the time being.
Rodovid was started by myself and a couple of other fabulous dances techs, and it is continuing. Obviously we can’t be in the studio just at the moment, but there are other things that are happening — online work and we’re in the middle of an online dance festival with entries from all around the world.
There’s another project in the works. I’m not going to say too much about it now because we haven’t launched it just yet, but I’m pretty excited about it. It’s not Ukrainian dance-based, but it’s definitely Ukrainian culture-based. The launch is planned for September and when we do that launch, we should definitely talk again!
Maybe we need to reconnect in September or October and chat about this new project and spread the good news! Through Postmark, Rodovid, Ukrainian Dance World, and just through who you are, you seem to keep a strong connection to Canada even though you have a life in Ukraine. Why is this important to you?
You know, just before the revolution I didn’t have a whole lot going on with Ukrainian dance anymore — I had retired and I thought that part of my life was done. Then a beautiful young chap from Saskatoon pulled me back into the fold in 2016. From there it was clear that I was meant to be in the studio in some way. This wasn’t just for myself, it was because I recognized what I had gone through — what I had done and the perspective I was able to glean from that — was different than what was happening in Canada at the time.
Lana with the Volya Ukrainian Dance Ensemble (Edmonton) ladies.
My time with Virsky has definitely shaped me. I can’t say I’m a true Kanadka (Canadian) anymore — I’m not Canadian and I’m not Ukrainian, I'm somewhere in between.
What I expect from students — whether I’m working with them over a weekend, or just one night, or for an extended period of time — is quite high. I often have, and I’m not necessarily proud of this, students come in and I do push them quite hard. Sometimes there are tears, but I recognize with the tears they understand that there’s something happening here.
With friction, there is often advancement — whether you understand that on a psychological or physical level. When you understand that something isn’t quite right and that something can be changed, even just slightly to make it better, or brighter, or higher, or softer — whatever that -er, whatever that adjective is for you — that’s really special. There’s such a connection between the instructor or choreographer, or whoever it is that’s coming in at that moment, with that dancer at that moment. That’s what I’m after. Whether it’s one dancer in a studio of 100 or 100 dancers in a studio of however many, it’s that moment of “Oh, I can do it better!”
I think there’s something special about not being an instructor from a particular group all the time, and being able to come in and be that outside set of eyes. You have a connection with the dancers, and there’s a feeling of trust that is created — it’s an incredible role to have, and it doesn’t seem like you take it lightly.
It’s so special, actually. I feel grateful every time I’m in the studio — doesn’t matter if it’s in Ukraine or Canada — and whoever it is that wants to work with me and wants to figure out a new or different way of working. I don’t take it lightly. I think it’s pretty special.
“Listen to your gut and your inspiration. Whatever that voice is talking to you and saying, don’t ignore it — it’s there for a reason.”
In our dream world we would have had this chat together in Ukraine, sitting on a patio somewhere, drinking a good wine or some cognac — we’re hopeful that will still happen in the future.
We feel a connection to you and the way you’ve lived your life — you followed your gut and intuition. We both really relate to that in the choices we’re making with our careers and our future. Of course, we’re interested in Ukrainian dance and culture — we danced all of our lives, now we’re instructing, we continue to do research on our own, and we never want to stop exploring. We definitely don’t want to live ordinary lives. What advice would you offer us and others with similar interests to continue celebrating Ukrainian culture and where that could lead us?
Good question. The biggest thing is to do just that — to listen to your gut and your inspiration. Whatever that voice is talking to you and saying, don’t ignore it — it’s there for a reason. Once you’ve listened to it and had a conversation with it, and this is going to sound crazy to some people and others will really connect with it, you can decide: Do I want to listen to it, or am I at a point in my life where I want to consciously do something else?
And that’s okay if you want to go in a different direction. But I will say that if you listen to it, and follow it, and you trust it, what will come after and what will follow is something that you could have never even imagined — it’s so much bigger and better than what you could have imagined.
That, I think, is what this life is about. There are connections waiting to happen for you, and I think that a lot of us want to be in control a lot of the time, and if we’re not, we’re somehow lost or off balance. I think that it’s this off-balance, actually, that makes life so much more saturated, bigger, bolder, and more beautiful. If we can embrace that, then this idea of it’s not good enough, it’s not enough, I don’t have enough money — whatever that “not enough” is — that sort of just disappears. You’re not thinking about what is it that I should be doing, but rather what is it that I want to do.
Well, wasn’t that the perfect answer?!
I think this podcast is quite special and unique. I know that you’ve taken a little pause, with COVID circumstances, and I hope that’s sort of just a little blip. I do think that the Ukrainian community, the diaspora around the world, really crave this connection to not just Ukraine but to be connected with each other. You also have a very special role in this culture and community. I hope that you are able to understand that on a level that’s not just “How much money can we make from this podcast?” or “How many followers can we get?” but that you reach people on a level that’s different. And actually, I know you get it — molodtsi (well done)!
Thank you so much for saying that — it really means a lot to us. That’s definitely a goal and something we keep in the back of our minds — connecting more people. Plus, talking with people like you is so inspiring — we’re feeling inspired, and we know others will feel it as well.
Thank you again for joining us! It was so great to talk with you and to learn about your experiences and the exciting ventures you’ve been involved with. We’re looking forward to what’s next, and can’t wait to reconnect.
We’re sending out tons of love to Lana for spending some time with us and sharing about her life and experiences. Follow Postmark Ukraine and Rodovid Ukrainian Academy of Dance to keep up with the exciting things happening with both!
And thank you for reading! We’ll be back before you know it with another episode of Vsi, and until then you can find us on Facebook and Instagram, can send us an email, or rate us on whatever podcast app you’re listening on. We really do love hearing from you, so please reach out.
Schaslyvo!