Ivanna Pnivchuk is a choreographer, dance educator, and mentor focused on children and youth. Her work combines dance training with methods of psychological and social adaptation, helping young people—including children from displaced families—cope with stress, integrate into a new cultural and English-speaking environment, and build confidence through structured creative practice. After relocating to the United States, she took a leading role at Soloway School, a licensed educational organization, where she designs curricula for multiple age groups, prepares students for concerts and competitions, and coordinates the school’s presence at festivals and community events.
Her responsibilities have strengthened the dance program’s profile and contributed to enrollment growth and local recognition. In 2025 she served as a judge for the international Golden Time Talent competition, reflecting trust in her professional judgment on a global stage. Beyond the studio, she reviews academic work via the Internauka platform and publishes methodological and research articles in journals indexed by Google Scholar and CrossRef. Media features in Dialog.ua and Focus.ua have highlighted her approach to using dance as a tool for adaptation and development. These activities, along with more than a decade of teaching and cultural project leadership, frame a record of outstanding achievements supported by consistent practice and clear results, with evidence of extraordinary abilities in connecting artistic rigor to social outcomes.
You lead dance programming at Soloway School in the United States. How did you structure the curriculum for different age groups, and what steps helped the program gain traction in the community?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I began by mapping developmental goals before choreography goals. For younger children, I focused on rhythm awareness, spatial orientation, and short confidence loops—simple sequences they could master in one lesson. For preteens, I added partner awareness and task-based improvisation, because it supports social adaptation without forcing personal disclosures. Teens received technique blocks paired with reflection tasks: what felt stable, what felt risky, and what they would try differently next time. I documented every block in weekly plans with progression markers and clear language for parents. To build traction, I aligned our calendar with local festivals and cultural events so students had visible milestones. We prepared short, high-readiness pieces early to reduce performance anxiety, then increased complexity after the first public success. Communication mattered: concise updates to families, open rehearsals, and post-event debriefs with specific takeaways. Over time, those habits raised confidence inside the studio and trust outside it, which naturally brought more students and invitations.
In your role you prepare students for concerts and competitions. What is your process for taking a group from first rehearsal to stage-ready performance?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I start with a diagnostic class to understand movement vocabulary, stamina, and group dynamics. The first rehearsal sets two anchors: tempo discipline and eye focus. We build sections in counts of eight, then switch to breath phrasing to protect musicality under stress. I assign roles that are not only about placement—someone tracks transitions, someone manages prop readiness, someone monitors spacing cues—so every dancer owns part of the performance ecosystem. Midway, we simulate the stage: lights low, side entries, no teacher prompts. We also rehearse short reset protocols for common errors, because recovery skills keep the piece intact when nerves appear. In the final week, I reduce verbal feedback and use hand signals to mirror live conditions. Parents get a one-page brief about call times and warm-ups to minimize backstage noise. The outcome isn’t just clean technique. It’s visible teamwork and a sense of safety that lets the choreography breathe.
You were invited to judge the international Golden Time Talent competition in 2025. What criteria did you prioritize, and how did you balance technical assessment with cultural diversity among participants?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: My scoring matrix placed technique, musicality, composition clarity, and stage presence on equal footing, with an additional lens for age-appropriate difficulty. I looked for alignment between concept and execution: if the narrative suggested tension, did the dancers show controlled suspension, or was it only facial expression? Cultural diversity was not a challenge; it was a resource. I asked whether choices respected the source material—costume, gesture, musical phrasing—without turning it into a stereotype. When styles varied, I returned to fundamentals: clean weight transfers, articulation through feet and spine, and consistent energy pathways. Feedback to participants was specific and actionable: “shift the accent to count five,” “tighten the canon by two counts,” “use diagonal travel to resolve the motif.” That way, a dancer from any background could implement improvements immediately while keeping their artistic voice intact. The invitation to judge acknowledged outstanding achievements across my teaching and choreography work, and I treated it as a responsibility to offer clear guidance.
Your method uses dance to reduce stress and support social adaptation, especially for children from displaced families. How do you translate that goal into concrete class activities?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I build routines that stabilize three things: breath, rhythm, and shared attention. We begin with synchronized clapping patterns that become footwork, because rhythm creates predictability. Then I pair children in nonverbal tasks—mirror walks, corridor passes—so they experience safe proximity before personal storytelling. For stress reduction, I use down-regulation drills: long exhales on floor sequences, weighted reaches that end in grounded positions. Language support happens inside movement: naming directions, counting in English, labeling shapes, then embedding those words in partner prompts. Progress is recorded in small wins—a child maintains eye contact for eight counts, chooses an entry pathway, or asks to lead a warm-up. These moments matter. They show the system working without forcing anyone to speak before they are ready. Over weeks, the class becomes a place where the body learns safety cues, and that often unlocks curiosity about the new environment.
Media coverage in Dialog.ua and Focus.ua highlighted your approach. How did those features influence your communication with families and the broader community?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: The articles created a reference point I could share with families who were unsure whether dance could support adaptation. Instead of abstract promises, I could point to a public explanation of goals and methods. Inside the school, we adjusted our onboarding. New parents received a short note linking class activities to outcomes they care about: reduced anxiety before school, improved coordination, more social confidence. Community partners began inviting our students to cultural events because the message was clear—our performances were not only showcases but also part of integration. The coverage also pushed me to refine documentation. If my approach is visible, it has to be consistent. I tightened the language in progress reports and created simple rubrics parents could understand. Visibility helped, but clarity sustained trust.
You review academic work through Internauka and publish in journals indexed by Google Scholar and CrossRef. How does research practice shape your classroom and choreography?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: Reviewing keeps me honest about claims. When I read a manuscript, I ask whether the evidence supports the conclusion and whether the method is replicable. I bring that habit to my studio. If I say a sequence reduces anxiety, I track indicators across several weeks—self-reported stress before class, heart-rate recovery after combinations, attendance patterns. Publication requirements—clear definitions, reproducible steps—help me write lesson plans that another teacher could follow. Choreographically, research pushes me to articulate intention in simple terms. If a piece explores orientation in a new culture, I map how that idea appears in pathways, formations, and musical accents. Research and practice support each other: the studio gives me questions, and the research process forces precise answers.
Soloway School’s dance direction strengthened its position and enrollment grew. What operational choices contributed to that growth?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: We aligned mission, schedule, and communication. I audited class times against family routines to cut friction. We introduced clear pathways—foundation, development, performance—so parents and students knew what came next. I trained assistants to keep class flow tight, which let me give focused corrections without losing momentum. Performance planning moved from ad hoc to calendar-based, with early repertoire selection and defined rehearsal windows. I also invested time in post-event feedback, not only for dancers but for volunteers and staff, so each cycle improved logistics. Enrollment responds to quality and reliability. When families see consistent structure and visible progress, word spreads. The artistic side matters, and the system around it makes the growth sustainable.
You design programs for multiple ages. What do you keep constant across all groups, and what changes most?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: Constant: respect for the body and clarity of task. Every class starts with a predictable warm-up that connects breath to movement. Feedback is specific and time-bound: try this shift in the next eight counts. What changes most is the balance between structure and autonomy. Younger students need short tasks and quick wins; preteens can handle layered instructions if you anchor them to rhythm; teens benefit from choice inside boundaries. Language evolves too. With younger children, I name shapes and directions. With older groups, I add functional anatomy so they understand why a correction matters. The aim is the same: build skill and confidence without overload.
Your students participate in festivals and cultural events. How do you choose venues and prepare children for unfamiliar audiences?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I choose events that match our developmental goals. Early in the year, we look for supportive, local stages where logistics are simple. Later, we add environments with more variables—outdoor stages, mixed-genre lineups—so students practice adaptability. Preparation includes audience rehearsal: we discuss who might be there, what the space feels like, and how to greet organizers. I run a quiet-backstage protocol: one voice giving cues, a designated stretch area, and a simple countdown so energy stays focused. After the event, we debrief with two questions: what felt stable, and where did confusion start? Small groups suggest adjustments. Children learn that stage experiences are not pass/fail; they’re data for the next iteration.
You have more than ten years of teaching and cultural project leadership in Ukraine and the United States. What principles endured across those contexts?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: Three principles stayed with me. First, consistency builds trust. If class starts on time and expectations stay clear, students relax and take risks. Second, technique and care are not separate. A clean plié is also a chance to regulate breath and attention. Third, community matters. When families, schools, and cultural organizations understand our goals, students receive the same messages in different places. Different countries brought different logistics and resources, yet those principles organized the work. They make the practice portable.
You lead mentorship for children and youth. How do you keep feedback honest without discouraging young dancers?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I separate person from task. I’ll say, “Your commitment is evident. Let’s fix the landing on count seven,” rather than vague praise or broad criticism. I use micro-goals. If a turn travels, we isolate placement for two minutes, celebrate when it stays, then reinsert it into the phrase. I also explain why a correction matters—safer knees, cleaner line, stronger story—so the dancer sees purpose. Mentorship includes boundaries. I’m clear about rest, nutrition basics, and time management. Children appreciate structure when it feels fair. Over time, straightforward feedback paired with achievable targets builds resilience.
As a judge and educator, how do you define age-appropriate difficulty in choreography?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I look at risk-reward balance. Difficulty is not just high extensions or fast turns; it’s the ability to maintain clarity under performance conditions. For younger dancers, I would rather see precise weight shifts and musical accents than tricks that collapse on stage. With older students, I increase complexity gradually—layered rhythms, directional changes, partnering with defined responsibilities. Difficulty should highlight strengths and stretch capacity, not create panic. When in doubt, I test a phrase after cardio to simulate nerves. If the structure holds, the level is right.
Your articles appear in journals indexed by Google Scholar and CrossRef. How do you choose topics, and what evidence do you consider strong enough to share publicly?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: Topics come from repeated studio questions: Which warm-ups stabilize attention fastest? How does partner mirroring affect language comfort? I draft a protocol, run it for several weeks, and collect simple metrics that fit daily teaching—attendance stability, self-ratings, teacher observations coded against a rubric. Strong evidence is consistent trends across groups and clear procedures another teacher can reproduce. I also include limits: group size, context, and what might change outcomes. Publishing is not about slogans. It’s about giving colleagues something they can try on Monday.
How do you measure the impact of your stress-reduction and integration methods beyond what you see in class?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I combine qualitative notes with repeatable check-ins. Parents complete short forms about sleep, school comfort, and appetite for social activities. Teachers share observations on focus and cooperation. I map those against class milestones—first performance, first leadership role—to see whether outside behavior shifts after specific experiences. I don’t claim medical outcomes; I track educational ones. When several indicators move in the same direction for multiple students, I know a method is useful and keep refining it.
You often represent Soloway School at cultural events. What preparation helps you act as both educator and spokesperson?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I prepare a simple message about what our program does and who it supports. I bring concise materials for organizers and a short briefing for parents who attend. On site, I arrive early to understand the space and staff roles, because smooth logistics protect the students’ focus. Afterward, I send thank-you notes with photos and a summary of our experience. These steps seem small, yet they build relationships that lead to future invitations and a stable platform for our dancers.
Looking back at your first year in the United States, what surprised you most about building a dance program in a new environment?
Ivanna Pnivchuk: I was surprised by how quickly children responded to clear structure, even when language felt new. The body gives you a bridge. A count, a gesture, a shared rhythm—those tools travel. I learned to explain less and demonstrate more, then name what we did so the language caught up. Families were generous with feedback, and that helped me tune the program to the community. The experience confirmed something I care about: extraordinary abilities in teaching show up in small, consistent adjustments repeated over time.
Dance education sits at the intersection of skill, care, and community. Ivanna Pnivchuk’s work threads those elements through curriculum design, performance preparation, and research that documents what works and where it can be improved. Her leadership at Soloway School, judging at Golden Time Talent in 2025, contributions as a reviewer on Internauka, and publications indexed by Google Scholar and CrossRef outline outstanding achievements grounded in daily practice. The media coverage that followed did not replace the quiet parts of the job—clear instructions, steady rhythms, small wins—but helped families and partners understand them. The through-line is consistent: accessible structure that supports children as they adapt, learn, and grow.
