Spotlight: Sonia Krassimirova Todorova ’07

What is your assessment of Harvard’s dance community and culture?

Harvard’s dance program has nothing to do with the academic curriculum—in fact there are only two dance-related classes offered in the curriculum, and they appear in Dramatic Arts department. But there are plenty of dance classes one can take. I am taking two classes offered by the dance program this semester and they make me feel great about being here—they help me get through a tough week of dry science.

Furthermore, I love HRDC! The HRDC type of dancer feels free to express incredible ideas in a perfectly unlimited space and time. And, yes, our repertoire even gets “humorous” at times, mainly because we allow ourselves the freedom to enjoy our art and the crazy perspectives it gives us.

What inspires you, as a busy college student, to continue to participate in an art that requires such intense training?

Have you noticed how professors clean the chalk off their hands? After teaching for a couple of decades they probably never notice when they do it, but it looks so beautiful sometimes.

There is always something to be discovered in the seemingly mundane, the things we take for granted. I have found that the more you do and the more you see every day, the more “material” there is for your imagination. And the more you keep thinking about everything around you the more you want to share it with the world. That’s why I dance, and it is the necessity to find better expression that motivates me to train my body as much as I can.

Briefly describe your creative process in preparing for a performance.

Let’s talk about the night of a performance. Friday is always a hectic blur: After surviving a thousand quizzes and fifty problem sets, you forget what’s going on—you even have trouble remembering what classes you’re taking. I try to put every spare second to good use, so I try to find time to just lay down on my bed and relax. It’s great if I can find time for a half-hour nap before a performance. Because of the nervousness that comes with an approaching performance, believe me, just sleeping and breathing can be pretty hard. I have found that the less I think about the actual performance, the better. Self-consciousness shouldn’t have anything to do with art!

What do you regard as the most inspiring locale on campus?

I really like Radcliffe Yard—it’s so beautiful when it is all covered in snow. I’ve thought many times how someone would look rolling down the steps of Widener… it might be a nice dance.

How has Harvard been a home to you? Has being here changed you?

Harvard does feel like home when I am happy with what I do. Somehow coming here made me center my world more on my assessment of my own actions. But again, home is not really a place, it is just a feeling that for me comes and goes so often around here. There are just different things to hold onto, it took me a while to discover them and to appreciate them.

Characterize yourself in less than ten words.

Charged, direct, all over the place, soft, organic.

Which do you prefer: performing your own choreography or performing a dance designed by another choreographer?

Both are two very wonderful experiences—but whichever you do, you dance as yourself. Whenever I dance, although I may “play” a kind of fictional role, there is always a personal side to my portrayal of a character—even if it is just in the energy I share with the audience.

Although it might be very enjoyable to work with some choreographers, at the same time some, it can be awkward to participate in some choreographers’ vision for a dance. But there is definitely less responsibility when you perform somebody else’s piece.

Performing a personal piece takes a lot out of me—it’s like trying to carve your words in hard stone rather than just read.

Do you have any entertaining performance stories?

Once I had to make my entrance onto the stage with a graceful turn, and a group of dancers were supposed to follow me in a perfect “battle-like” formation. But somehow my foot got caught in the curtain and the first thing the audience saw was me collapsing painfully on stage! No one laughed, but I did I hear a few compassionate “oh” from the back rows. I quickly got back to my place—it wasn’t until the end of the show that I realized I had wounded my knee and started feeling the pain!