Kostiantyn Frolov was born in Luhansk, a province in eastern Ukraine’s Donbas region, to a theatre actress who raised him on her own. After attending an open house showcasing various dance groups, he told his mother “I want to do that.” He was immediately and inexplicably drawn to Ukrainian dance. Frolov only later learned about its historical potency, falling in love with it even more as he began to appreciate its unique blend of ancient and modern Slavic culture.
He joined his first professional dance troupe at age six and at 15 auditioned for the prestigious Pavlo Virsky Ukrainian National Folk Dance Ensemble in Kyiv, what is widely considered the best Ukrainian dance troupe. Known for transforming traditional Ukrainian folk dances into breathtaking theatrical performances with a blend of acrobatics, ballet and cultural storytelling, Frolov competed with 90 other hopefuls in a gruelling seven-hour exam. He was accepted and, within a year, promoted to the professional ensemble.
Starting in 2009, the teenager danced across continents, touring more than 20 countries, including several performances with Shumka. But while the artist thrived on stage, his life was becoming complicated by geopolitics. In 2014, Russian-backed separatists seized control of parts of the mineral-rich Donbas and they took over Luhansk. As fighting engulfed eastern Ukraine, he found it emotionally difficult to return to his hometown, where his mother still lived. After Russian troops invaded and occupied Luhansk in 2022, Frolov and his wife Anna — a fellow Virsky dancer — knew they had to leave Ukraine.
He arrived alone in Toronto in January 2025, staying with a fellow dancer from the Kalyna Performing Arts Company, while waiting for visas for his wife and daughter. But even after they joined him in Toronto, his life felt isolating. “The Ukrainian community there is big, but separate,” he recalls. “You talk at parties, and then it ends.”
That changed when Shumka’s then-executive director Darka Tarnawsky, having noticed that Frolov was now in Canada, reached out to him through social media. Frolov had danced with Shumka before — as a visiting Virsky artist and guest performer in 2017, 2018 and 2021. This time, Frolov was invited to join the company as a permanent member of the ensemble. Frolov recalled enjoying Edmonton on his previous visits. So, last August, his family packed up their lives once more. “In Edmonton, I feel relaxed,” Frolov says. “It feels like home.”
When Frolov stepped onto the Royal Theatre stage in Victoria, B.C., in November 2025 for the opening of Shumka’s Nutcracker tour, it marked a pivotal moment for the artist, the company and Edmonton’s dance scene. Earlier that month, Shumka was inducted into Canada’s Dance Collection Danse Hall of Fame, along with Edmonton’s Brian Webb, receiving the honours at Winnipeg’s Metropolitan Entertainment Centre. For two Alberta companies to receive the honours in one year signifies a long-overdue recognition of Western Canadian performing arts.
From the avant-garde explorations of Mile Zero Dance Society to the international tours of Shumka, Edmonton’s dance scene has always punched above its weight. The scope of that vision is only now being appreciated outside of provincial borders. Ballet Edmonton, the city’s contemporary ballet company founded in 1998, was invited to perform a full program at Ottawa’s National Arts Centre in 2023 and again in 2027, affirming its place among the country’s leading contemporary ensembles. “To experience a full program of Ballet Edmonton performing at the NAC by themselves, from beginning to end, was amazing,” says Webb, founder and artistic director of BWDC. “No other Alberta arts company has ever received that honour.”
Taken together, he says, these achievements reflect a turning point: After decades of working in the shadows of Toronto and Montreal, Edmonton’s dance community is finally being seen for its artistry and ambition.
But for Shumka — Ukrainian for “whirlwind” — the hall of fame induction is a recognition that celebrates not just the endurance of a single company but the vibrancy of Ukrainian dance, which originated in pre-Christian Slavic ritual and village celebrations.
The company was founded in a church basement in 1959, as a community program for young Ukrainian Canadians to preserve their heritage. In 1989, it founded the Shumka School of Dance, enrolling students aged 3-18 in curricula fostering the next generation, and in 2009 formally transitioned from a volunteer troupe into Canada’s first and only professional Ukrainian dance company. Tarnawsky, who stewarded its recent transformation, compares the familiarity of Shumka’s red boots at festivals to the ubiquity of Edmonton’s green onion cakes — symbols so ingrained they’re almost shorthand for civic identity.
The addition of Kostiantyn as a company member and Anna as an instructor, along with the wave of renewed interest emerging from the war in Ukraine, may one day be looked back at as a turning point for Shumka. The conflict has deepened community ties and drawn new audiences and participants to Ukrainian dance. “There are a lot of newcomers here, and we’re starting to see their influence in supporting what we do and participating in what we do,” says Tarnawsky. She says enrolment in its youth programs has also surged, driven by cultural pride and solidarity with Ukraine. “The interest in Ukrainian dance amongst youth has really grown since the war.”
The community here has embraced the Frolovs, who together teach Shumka students traditional techniques, as well as the disciplined athleticism that defines the Virsky Ensemble’s renowned style.
Their lives are stable but humble. “We just bought a car,” Frolov says with a grin. When they’re not dancing, he works for a cleaning business and Anna in a nail salon. (Anna also handmakes Ukrainian wreath headpieces sold around the world under the name Poleva Brand.) What matters most to Frolov now is staying and building a future his family can rely on. He also hopes to recruit more boys and men to try Ukrainian dance.
Each time the curtain rose for Shumka’s Nutcracker this winter, Frolov wasn’t just dancing for an eager Edmonton audience awaiting a beloved holiday tradition. He was dancing for his country, the friends and colleagues he left behind and for every Ukrainian refugee whose story, like his, is still being written. And he was dancing for his mother, who continues to live in occupied territory.
“I am happiest when I am on the stage, because I feel like I can fly,” he says. “I feel like it’s when I’m most connected to my mother, because dancing is in my blood.”
This article appears in the January/February 2026 issue of Edify
