For Shivani Shivakumar, dancing is as natural as breathing. With over 20 years of training, she began in Bharatanatyam as a child in Bangalore, founded her own studio there in 2019, and has been teaching ever since. She describes herself as “just a girl who’s always been dancing from the age of five, and does not really know a world without it.” And even with her move to Toronto three years ago, this remains true: “I am not giving up on my passion, continuing to dance and only increasing my passion for it, even though I’m away from home right now.”
This fall, Shivakumar takes the stage at the 5th anniversary edition of the Common Ground Dance Festival (CGDF), co-curated by festival co-founder David Norsworthy and guest curator Tanveer Alam. Now in its fifth year, the Festival returns to Lee Lifeson Art Park in North York from September 18–20, 2025, with a free weekend of site-specific works, mainstage performances, artist talks, and interactive workshops. To mark its anniversary, the opening night features a retrospective program highlighting the festival’s evolution, while the weekend lineup showcases artists from Toronto, across Turtle Island, and beyond.
Audiences can look forward to Hoop Dance from Beany John, a Dora-nominated duet with live music featuring Irma Villafuerte and Nickeshia Garricka of the CinnaMoon Collective, a flamenco exploration by Carmen Romero with percussionist Miguel Medina, a Garba-based ensemble by Anjali Tanna, a showcase by Groove Collective, and striking new works in Bharatanatyam and contemporary dance — including Shivakumar’s Sundara Mohana Murali Dhara: Expressing Krishna’s Charm Through Dance. Mainstage programs will be co-hosted in Farsi (September 19) and Mandarin (September 20), further underscoring the festival’s intercultural spirit.
Rooted in Indian classical dance
Shivakumar’s artistic foundation lies in India’s classical dance traditions. “I was primarily trained in Bharatanatyam for 20 years, and I also teach Bharatanatyam,” she explains. At the same time, her training has spanned multiple dance forms, including Indian contemporary, Kuchipudi, Kathak, and Kalari, which is the oldest martial art form from Kerala, and for which, she explains, “I went back to India and took a one-month intensive and revamped my skills.”
Despite these various explorations, Bharatanatyam remains her anchor. And earlier this year, she began offering classes in Bharatanatyam on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Shall We Dance Studio on McNicoll Avenue. For her, teaching is an important way of staying rooted while helping others discover the form, and adjusting her method and curriculum to her students’ needs. “One of my students lives with fibromyalgia, a chronic condition that affects the body and mind,” Shivakumar shares. “She discovered through her own research that movement and dance could support her well-being and cognitive development, and that Bharatanatyam in particular could help.” When this student joined, Shivakumar restructured the syllabus for her and adapted her teaching to focus on elements like mudras (hand gestures), abhinaya (expression), and nrittya (footwork), which could specifically benefit her physical coordination, mental clarity, and overall resilience. “Witnessing her progress has been incredibly meaningful for me, as it highlights how Bharatanatyam can nurture not only artistic expression but also healing, mindfulness, and resilience,” notes Shivakumar. “I think this is important to share, as it reflects how dance can positively impact lives in unexpected ways.”
A varnam about the life of Lord Krishna
Shivakumar’s participation in the CGDF stems from her first encounter with it … as a spectator. “Two years ago, I went to witness that event as an audience member, and absolutely loved the experience, “ she smiles. “It was a beautiful celebration.” As a dancer, she was intrigued to learn how to be on the other side. “I’m very happy that we could do it this year.”
For her festival performance, she has chosen a work that holds deep meaning: “My performance is a snippet of a varnam. Varnam is basically an elaborate, complex piece in Bharatanatyam, usually 35 to 40 minutes long. It has a combination of complex indrata (footwork) and abhinaya (expression). My piece is Sundara Mohana Murali Dhara, about Lord Krishna. It takes you through the journey of Krishna as a child… how playful he was… and how it transcends into him giving the Gita Upadesha.”
Because of time constraints, Shivakumar will present a distilled version.. “I’m cutting and bringing together my favourite pieces: a jati where Krishna plays with the peacock; a Kalinga Mardhana, where he fights a snake-like demon; and then we conclude with the Gita Upadesha. These are the three things that I’m planning to put together, and give my own version of the varnam.”
This work carries special meaning for her. “When the pandemic happened back in 2020, I was in India, and this was probably the first piece I worked on independently. I hold this very dear to my heart… it’s the first baby that I made.” And she believes audiences will connect with its spectrum of experience, which spans from playful childhood scenes to moments of insight and discernment: “It kind of resonates,” she muses. “When we are children, we all have this playful side to us. We grow up… we gain a lot of wisdom… and then we reach a point where we can make decisions for ourselves and others.”
Welcoming new audiences
Shivakumar is excited to welcome audiences who are new to the art form, but is mindful of how Bharatanatyam may appear to them. “If you’re not used to seeing this particular dance form, you may be overwhelmed by the attire” – feeling that ”it’s too elaborate.” Her advice is simple: “Come with an open mind, and just look at the dancer’s face and movement. It’s not too different from what you would do on a daily basis … especially your hand gestures.” In daily life, you might say, ‘come here’. In dance, we just give it a more defined hand gesture,” she explains – while demonstrating how a dancer adjusts the ordinary gesture into a subtly stylized mudra. “Just looking at that, I don’t think it’s too complicated for someone to understand.”
She adds that “half of the dance is happening through the face.” And once again, “facial emotions are the same anywhere. You cry when you’re sad; you look disgusted when you feel disgusted” – and so on. The upshot? For “half of it, you’re already there, understanding – and the remaining half is through hand movements, which are not very different.”
To enhance the audience experience, Shivakumar often offers a short introduction before performing: “a small narration of how I would show Krishna” because “when we have two or three references to look at, it’s easier for the audience.” She also stresses how receptivity is the ultimate key to unlock meaning: if audience members “really want to understand and be there at the performance, they will take up the initiative… just being open and reciprocative to the artist will take them to a beautiful experience.”
Community, inclusivity, and the value of new experiences
The location of the festival carries personal significance. “Ever since I set foot in Toronto three years ago, I have been in North York. So this community is very, very close to my heart. I don’t think I can imagine Toronto without North York,” she reflects. She especially admires the neighbourhood’s inclusivity: “It’s very diverse and very welcoming, which is what I absolutely love… the best mix of being close to the city, but away from it.”
And as for the Lee Lifeson Park venue itself, she recalls falling in love with it when she first attended. “The iconic shell is so beautiful. As the sun sets, there are different shades… It kind of adapts to the performer who’s performing right there in the venue. And I love that about it.”
Outside the studio, Shivakumar works in the finance and registration office of Yorkville University. She is also an avid traveller with a personal ritual: “I make sure I answer one question at the end of every year, which is ‘When was the last time you tried something for the first time?’ And I make sure I have an answer for it every time.” Most recently, her answer was “surfing in Costa Rica”: “I had three lessons… it was beautiful! But next year,” she smiles, “I would try swimming.”
For Shivakumar, participating in Common Ground is a first-time experience, though it feels like a homecoming of sorts: a chance to share her cultural tradition in the neighbourhood where she has built her new life. And as she looks forward to her Common Ground debut, Shivakumar values the festival’s commitment to barrier-free programming that is not only offered in multiple languages, but is completely free of charge to attend. And she is excited by the first-time experiences awaiting visitors who make it to the park. “I just want [the audience] to come and enjoy the evening with an open heart, because each dance form is very different. The beauty of this event is to come and take as much art as you can into your system.”
“Each artist,” she notes, “has put so much work and time into this.” And their desires are simple: “Nothing else really fills us up with joy, as much as seeing an audience that absolutely loves and is enjoying what we’re doing.”
The Common Ground Dance Festival runs September 18–20, 2025, at Lee Lifeson Art Park in North York. Admission is free. The full schedule of events is available on toesfordance.ca..
Arpita Ghosal, Sesaya Arts Magazine 2025
