“Happy Childhood” in Kharkiv. The dance ensemble changed the bombed halls into a basement

 

Not a single building in the city’s main Svobody Square, also the larges square in Europe, has avoided Russian shelling. During the infamous air strikes on the Kharkiv regional council, a blast wave also damaged the Palace of Children and Youth Creativity.

The right wing, with its windows facing the square, suffered the most. Today, almost two years after the airstrike, the wind still whispers in the ballet halls of the Happy Childhood Dance Ensemble.

“Happy Childhood” is one of Ukraine’s largest and oldest children’s dance ensembles. Its students are winners and laureates of hundreds of national and international competitions. Before the all-out war, up to 400 students studied classical, folk, and modern choreography here.

 

The “happy children,” as they call themselves, have been accustomed to the big stage since they were young, whether it be the grandiose backstage of the Kharkiv Opera House or the Palace of Students of the Law Academy. Now, these almost professional artists must perform in the basement, on a tile floor in a space that used to be a restaurant. 

At the main entrance to the palace, one can find a solemn chandelier, a large electronic clock, and an A4 sheet below saying “shelter” with an arrow pointing down the stairs. The corridors are lined with windows that will be installed one day. As we go up to the second floor through the backstage of the assembly hall, we enter the “Happy Childhood.” Each door opens to colder rooms, so we must wear something warmer. Each door is getting harder to open. The wood is swollen with water that seeps through the damaged roof. The wind is literally blowing in the ballet halls.

 

The team “moved in” to another wing of the palace, located further away from the square, having withstood the shelling. The new halls are half the size and number of the ones the children used to study in.

Yet, this area is now quite large enough to shelter all the children. Only about 100 of them, which is only a quarter of the group, have returned after leaving Kharkiv at the beginning of the invasion.

“Happy Kids” Are Back

“There was, there is, and there will be a happy childhood,” the teachers and students repeat. Despite the tensions in the city and regular shelling, the children are returning, both from other cities and from abroad.

14-year-old Olya, who lived with her parents in Slovenia for a year, is in the group. It was a difficult year for her—she had almost no friends and, worst of all, no dancing classes. 

 

“I can’t imagine my life without dancing. This has been my dream since I was four years old. My parents sometimes say, “Who will need choreographers?”—but for me, it is a dream. I can’t live without dancing,” said Olya. 

She begged her parents to return to Kharkiv while going through breakdowns several times.

“When we returned, and I joined the first lesson, I blossomed. I felt better. There are familiar people here, my ensemble. I realized that I was meant to be here.” 

 

Although Olya is happy to be back home, as she has gotten used to the alarms and shelling, she admits to being terrified of the Iranian-made Shahed drones. 

“Once, I heard a plane being shot down. I was very worried that it would fall on the house. So that would be the end. And I would be gone. How could I leave everyone?”

During a massive Russian missile attack on January 2, over 60 Kharkiv citizens were wounded. Four children were hospitalized, including 13-year-old Sasha.

 

“It’s tough here [in Kharkiv]. Especially when the shell hits near your house. I just came to my mom’s at the wrong time,” said Sasha, adding that she lives with her father but suffered through a shelling during her visit to her mother.

“You’re sitting there, hugging your dog… Here’s the hit. Shock: what is it? Later, when you are in the hospital, the next day, you realize: damn, it’s real, it’s not a dream, it really happened.”

The debris cut her arms and hit her face. Sasha feels fine now. Her arm only hurts a little. She says the hardest part is dealing with anxiety, which makes her whole body tremble. That’s why Sasha switched to distance learning.

“I can’t say how I feel. Every day is different. It’s hard to deal with this because the shell targeted the house. But I am holding on. Dancing helps me express my emotions,” says the Happy Childhood foster child. To cope with anxiety, Sasha also attends therapy, so talking to a professional helps a lot. 

 

Sasha also lived abroad in Lithuania for a year. She responds, “Calmer” when asked how she felt there.

Children and adults have different perceptions of the shelling and the threat that hangs over the border town of Kharkiv. 14-year-old Vlad smiles when asked how he feels.

“I’m fine. I was scared for the first three months, but then I didn’t care anymore. I saw airplanes flying overhead—it was scary, but I couldn’t change anything about it.”

 

At the beginning of the invasion, his family moved to Pokotylivka near Kharkiv, where they spent six months.

“There was no school, no dancing, no music. I only went for walks with my brother and started a cooking blog on YouTube.” 

“I love to cook. “Then, I made a travel blog from Turkey, and I’m making another one from my last trip with Happy Childhood to Europa Park. They are all in Russian, though, but I have already made subtitles in Ukrainian and English.”

Last August, Vlad’s family returned to Kharkiv so he could attend school.

“When I returned to Happy Childhood, I felt so nostalgic! I finally met all my friends. Of course, my parents were worried when I went to the palace, but what could I do?”

 

Not everyone will be back

Mikael Ishchenko, a 20-year-old Happy Childhood graduate, died in August 2023 in battles for his homeland. He was studying to become a choreographer at the Kharkiv State Academy of Culture. At the beginning of the full-scale war, his family moved to Kosiv in the western Ivano-Frankivsk region, where Mikael started weaving camouflage nets and working with displaced children. 

“He was always smiling, cheerful, and most importantly – Ukrainian!” said Ksenia Sokolyuk, a Kosiiv volunteer.

“Mikael came from a religious family and was a devout believer. He was very kind and treated everyone well. Mikael was a true Ukrainian, as his father said, he wanted to change the world. He was a true patriot.” said Raisa Galenko, the head of Happy Childhood.

According to Raisa, the boy’s entire family tried to dissuade him from joining the army, including his uncle, who had served in the Kraken since the beginning of the full-scale invasion.

His entire family tried to dissuade him from joining the army, including his uncle, who had served in the Kraken special unit since the beginning of the full-scale war. 

“But then he said, “No, I’m a man now. I have my own opinion.””

From the summer of 2022, Mikael worked with the 81st separate airmobile brigade. On August 13, 2023, Mikael was killed in action.

Away from Moscow’s legacy

In the palace, which some Kharkiv citizens still call the “Palace of the Soviet Pioneers” out of habit, there seems to be nothing left of Moscow’s heritage. “Happy Childhood” gave up Russian folk dancing in 2014 when Kremlin forces annexed Crimea and started a war in eastern Ukraine. The group refused to participate in Russian festivals and did not perform in the occupied territories. The group also lost all its friends from Russia and Belarus.

“Once I heard from the Vitebsk team chief, “You see, you used to go to Artek camp (in Crimea), and now we go there,” said Raisa Halenko. 

“When Russian forces marched on Kyiv from Belarus, I wrote to her, “Look what’s happening.” She said, “It’s all fake. There is no war.” But she asked me to help her evacuate an old lady who was sitting in the basement near Kyiv. If there is no war, what is that old lady doing there?”

 

Teachers are now trying to host classes in Ukrainian. Not everyone finds it easy. Oleksandr Tsomaya, who teaches classical and folk-stage dance, went to Khmelnytsky at the beginning of the full-scale war, where he could practice Ukrainian.

“It is difficult to speak Ukrainian because there is no one to speak to in Kharkiv. When you go out, everyone speaks Russian. But in class, I try to speak Ukrainian as much as possible, to use Ukrainian terminology, and I end up with a kind of mix of both languages,” he says.

 

The war has posed many challenges for “Happy Childhood”: damaged halls, restrictions on holding mass events, and canceled rehearsals due to the threat of shelling. Yet, the group is looking for opportunities for the children to perform. The ensemble currently holds concerts in the Children’s Palace basement.

Performance in the basement

 

We go down to a shelter that used to be a tent before the invasion. Through the underground corridors of the former wardrobe, we go to the restaurant, which is now an art space and a stage for the children of “Happy Childhood.” Benches and chairs are lined up in several rows in a small room. It is the auditorium. The rest of the space is the “stage.”

“Backstage, the performers are getting ready for their performance. “Plié-relevé, plié-relevé,” the girls in the circle take turns squatting and standing on their toes, repeating the names of the movements in chorus and increasingly speeding up the pace.

“Warm-ups are for wimps.” says one teacher.

“Makeup is for the ugly,” another one adds. 

Both of them are joking because before going on stage, the performers have to warm up well and put on bright stage makeup. The “happy children” are well aware of this.

 

Meanwhile, parents gather in the “auditorium.” 

“Thank you for letting your children come to the Palace,” the team’s leader addresses them, 

“Despite the difficult times and the fact that we have to dance in the basement, we are glad that the children can still learn choreography.

A soundtrack plays. The dancers take the stage. It’s their time to shine.

Text: Victoria Kalimbet; Photo: Yakiv Lyashenko