Let's Dance To the Song They're Playin' On the Radio”
An interview with Hristina Lazarova
By Geri Decheva
In September last year, I went to Eisenstradt. I had never been there and I took the small window of free travelling for a day’s visit. I went to the Esterhazy Castle. It was a hot, calm day, the calm before the storm that came in October and, well the whole winter of 2020/2021. The famous Haydnsaal in the castle is probably the most stunning music hall I had ever seen. The orchestra was playing, getting ready for the evening performance of Beethoven’s symphonies. I sat at the back, where it was allowed, with the mask and all, keeping a healthy distance from the people, and watched the orchestra. And I envied them – a small oasis on the stage, a gathering of people trusting each other, united by the divinity of music, engulfed in beauty of all that’s human, sharing an emotion, connection, living through music and passing that vibration to the only observer – me. I had that picture engraved in my mind, while I was talking to Hristina Lazarova, a charming young lady. We talked about dancing and opera singing and all that comes with it.
Q: What would you like our readers to know about you?
A: I am an opera singer and a dancer – they go together. I have also graduates Basic Music Pedagogy, which allows me to teach singing and dancing. I also play in the theater, for which I underwent years of training, too. Music was my childhood dream and I have fought hard for many years to make it come true. I have been in Austria for 12 years. I came here to study and my intention was to go back home, but we cannot plan the nice things ahead of us. I’ve met great people, nice things happened and I stayed. I’m grateful to be involved in what I have always wanted to do with my life. Q: This choice, this
calling, shall I say, how did it happen? When
did you know?
A: It was a conscious choice, which I made at
the age of six. My family was living with my grandparents and at the weekends
my task was to set the table, which I hated. One Saturday, while I was setting
the table, they played “The Drinking Song” from “La Traviata”. I started
singing and dancing and the chore was no longer a burden. I remember telling my
mum: “I want to sing and dance like
this!” So, all the chores were fun, as long as I was singing and dancing. I
was happy, although it might have seemed weird to the others. My friends were
listening to rock and pop music. I also love rock, but I’ve never wanted to
sing anything other than opera.
Q: Was your family supportive of your choice? You know how many parents plan their children’s future towards high-end jobs?
A: At the beginning, not so much, but later, yes. I started dancing at the age of eight and when I was fourteen, I started playing the piano. My piano teacher took me to meet mezzosoprano Galya Pavlova-Boteva, who became my first teacher and supporter as a singer. When I was eight, the worst punishment for me was: “If you don’t do this or that, we’ll stop you from dance lessons.” Dancing was my anchor in difficult times, my inspiration, the way I vented my stress, and also a sport, which is what my parents fully supported. But dancing is an art. It develops your personality on many levels. You gain social competence, you learn to communicate, to respect and to trust your dance partner. It also enhances your senses and perception of the world.
Q: “All those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music” This is a quote by Friedrich Nietzsche. How would you comment on it?
A: I have been teaching children for a few years now. Kids find it extremely easy to express themselves through any art. All children react to music; sometimes the reaction is intense and almost immediate, sometimes, not as much. To some people music remains something foreign, but they’re still capable of feeling the emotion the artist is trying to share and convey – this is the performers’ most important task. We tell a story. We are not there to be liked, not really. Yes, applause is important, but the greater achievement is when you know you have reached and provoked the audience, you’ve made them think and then it is not so crucial whether you’ve sung that note the right way, or whether your movements were precise. You have sparkled an emotion – that’s all that matters.
Q: How do you see the
now and the future of dancing and opera with all the technology we are given?
A: For sure, the Internet provides easy and
cheap access to loads of information. If you want to watch something that is of
interest to you, technology provides access and affordability. But the emotion
and the dynamic connection and the atmosphere of a live performance is not
there. No recording can recreate them. A live performance allows the performer
and the audience to share an emotion and that’s what is always missing in a
recording.
Q: How does music art
cope these days, during the past year?
A: I believe all crises lead to progress. If we
cannot look outside now, we should take the time to look within, find answers
about ourselves, which we have avoided till now. Art is changing and new forms
are emerging. Teaching art online proved possible, but without the live contact
not much progress can be made. That’s not up for discussion. Online concerts
with people recording their part at home is a solution, but it’s not comparable
to the experience of living through the music on stage with everybody involved.
Now is the time to learn to be completely and consciously present in the now.
Fear of what might be will bring you down.
Q: Everyone can dance.
What makes a person a dancer?
A: Everyone who wants to express themselves
through dance is already a dancer in a way. In my profession, dancing and
singing go hand in hand. If you can get in touch with yourself through dancing,
you are a dancer. When I dance, my mind is free and these are the moment of
epiphany: ideas emerge, puzzles arrange themselves because the physical
activity of the body frees the spirit. It doesn’t matter whether you earn your
money with dancing and singing, or whether you do it as a hobby. In my
profession, we don’t say “I go to work”; we say “I go to a rehearsal or a
performance.” The hard work is done at home. An aria of five minutes takes
years and years of training, as much effort as athletes put into preparing for
a competition. For a certain part, even a short one, you need weeks, even
months for the choreography. But when I am onstage, I am so fulfilled and I
know that all those efforts have paid off. The little time on stage takes loads
of years of work.
Q: Any artist probably
strives for perfection. What is perfection to you?
A: First, we learn to see our mistakes, which
may not be visible to the audience. But people sense if a performer is in
harmony with themselves, if they believe in themselves and uncertainty is
easily spotted. However, if you only concentrate on the mistakes, from a
psychological point of view, it leads to more insecurity. That goes for any
art. We start seeing ourselves as a piece of meat, without being sure what meal
we are suitable for. Although we may feel imperfect, we must keep going on
stage and keep the contact with the people – this is the best teaching method
because every time we become better and better. I started singing my first
arias when I was sixteen and every time I performed them, I learned new things
about the aria, about myself, and about my instrument: my voice and my body. I
am the instrument, I am the musician, and I am the person who experiences all
that. This symbiosis makes the human voice the most powerful instrument of all.
Q: Mila Kunis says
that there is a Black Swan in every one of us. Can we ponder a bit on that?
A: We all have a dark side and it’s bound to
express itself at times. We need to get to know this dark side, never to
suppress it. We have to control it. Striving for perfection has led many
artists to complete burnout, especially in a surrounding where the competition
is fierce. It’s normal to want to be perfect, but that need must be within a
healthy limit. Unfortunately, we get to know our limits the hard way, by going
beyond them. The audience can be uncompromising and cruel, but also grateful
and when you excite them, they are ready to forgive any imperfection. There are
some colleagues, especially among those coming from other continents, who start
playing instruments, singing and dancing at a very early age; they have
exquisite technique, but at times they lack the emotion and that certain
obsession with the music. One of my professors taught us how to achieve balance
in striving for perfection and that our task as musicians is to provoke, teach,
and entertain. We have the power to share our vision, the vision of the
composer, and the vision of the choreographer, so that every person in the
audience can find out something about themselves through what we do.
Q: How does one cope with competition in your
field? Does it motivate or is it a source of negativity?
A: Competition is not a bad thing and as you
said, it’s a motivator. When you see someone doing something better than you,
you try to become as good as they are. You develop unconventional ways to use
your instrument. In my case, that’s my voice and my body. The market is huge
and you cannot always live on becoming a musician because very few get to the
top. Naturally, there’s tension in any team and everyone should work on
themselves to control these negative vibes. I try to take the positive and to
keep away from anything that clouds my vision. Competition can be brutal, but
here’s what I think: If I can learn from somebody else, maybe somebody else can
learn from me.
Q: When is the right
time to start dancing? Is there an age limit?
A: There’s no age limit. In the dance studio, I
have seen people who were fifty, sixty, even seventy years old. Couples who
haven’t done anything creative together get closer to each other, get to know
each other again and restore and share that connection. Dance is also a great
way to keep physically fit. I have a friend with cerebral paralysis and she
spends every minute of her free time in the dance hall. Dance is that free
space where you can be whoever you want. When I was fourteen, I had to stop my
dance lessons because I was applying to a language school. That’s when I felt
that urgent need to find myself again. After two years of absence from the
dance hall, I went back unsure and worried if I could get back in shape. At
that time, I was also singing. But when I went back, with the heavy load from
school, I kept going five times per week for three hours every evening to
dance. At the weekend, I did theater along with singing and playing the piano.
I used to get up at four in the morning to do my homework, although I came back
home at ten in the evening. Yes, I was tired, but that fulfillment helped me
through school without feeling the stress of everything else I had to do. I
developed endurance and a strong sense of responsibility, as well as a rhythm
of life.
Q: What do you think
of women in the 21st century? Are they developing for better or for
worse?
A: There are quite big steps taken towards
equality. Some women have chosen to be women and men, too. We feel we can be
self-sufficient. A woman can have a different role in life and every one of us
has the right to choose what role suits her best. It’s equally admirable being
a mother or a professional, as long as the woman feels comfortable in that
role. This choice must be respected by society and never questioned.
Q: Would you say you
are a happy person?
A: Actually, yes. I haven’t reached full
satisfaction in many areas, but the moment you are void of ideas and of the
urge to move forward, to do something for yourself and for other people, you
stop being alive. I am happy with the people I am surrounded by. People should
understand that happiness is in the inspiration to be provoked to do something
new, to reach higher.
I have always admired people who
know what they want to achieve, who have made their own choices. That goes all
the more for people who create art. I have never appreciated art for the sake
of money. The body might be fed, clad in designer clothes, lying comfortable on
an exotic beach, but as long as the soul is hungry and neglected, it will keep
banging and clanging angrily with every pulse of the heart. You can use that
rhythm to dance, to sing, to run, to move, as long as you water the budding
desires of the soul. Right, there is a great song coming on in my playlist. I
might leave you here. I suddenly felt like dancing and as awfully as I sing, I
don’t care. Neither should you.