Shahrazad

The Living Myth

“The entire cosmos dances within us, with us, and through us.”

Moon Dance

At the core of her artistic philosophy lies the pursuit of a lost completeness: a state in which technique, emotion, intellect, and spiritual awareness converge into a unified expressive force. Within this expanded understanding, the dancer transcends the role of performer and emerges instead as a mediator—between visible and invisible realms, between embodied presence and the deeper structures of existence.

This vision finds its most compelling articulation in Shahrazad’s choreographic works, where mythology, ritual, and intercultural narratives are woven into immersive constellations of movement. Whether drawing from Sufi whirling, temple dance traditions, or symbolic cosmologies, her work transforms and invites the audience into a space where perception shifts, and where the boundaries between inner and outer experience begin to dissolve.

Equally significant is her role as a teacher, where transmission becomes an act of awakening. Her pedagogical approach cultivates not only technical mastery, but the courage to access and embody one’s own latent potential. In this sense, her influence extends far beyond the stage, shaping a lineage of practitioners who carry forward an expanded understanding of dance as lived knowledge.

For Shahrazad, dance remains an open, ever-unfolding process—an ancient current moving through the present, reconfigured through each act of embodiment. It is within this dynamic continuum that her work assumes its enduring power.

In the following conversation, we move closer to this field—entering the thought, experience, and vision of an artist whose work continues to shape, transmit, and reawaken a hidden universe through movement.

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The Architect of a Hidden Universe

Shahrazad stands as a singular presence within the global landscape of dance, her artistic trajectory unfolding across more than four decades of sustained international resonance. Since 1980, her work has traversed continents, cultures, and spiritual traditions, forming a practice that eludes categorization and instead reveals itself as a continuously evolving field of inquiry. What distinguishes Shahrazad’s oeuvre is not merely its geographic breadth, but the depth of its underlying vision. Rooted in extensive research into the sacred and historical foundations of movement across India, the Middle East, North Africa, and beyond, her work traces hidden continuities between traditions often perceived as separate. In her hands, dance becomes a vessel of transmission—carrying within it fragments of memory, knowledge, and metaphysical perception that have endured across centuries.

Your artistic journey spans continents and cultures. How did your early exposure to music and philosophy influence your path as a dancer?

As long as I can remember, music was a source of joy in our family. Both my parents sang, played the piano and other instruments, and were artistic in many ways. Apart from being a goldsmith and designer of individual jewelry, my father’s ethnological collection of music from five continents, for example, led to us singing along to Uzbek and African songs.

My mother used to dance ballet and play Rachmaninov, while my father played almost anything by ear, from Hungarian gypsy music to jazz on the grand piano and other instruments. We had jam sessions every day. Church music, with impressive organ sounds and choir singing, combined with the scent of incense and candles every Sunday, plus daily prayers at home, shaped religious reflection and the joy of rituals as something natural.

At the age of six, I was told about Indonesian temple dancers of my age, which triggered my passion for sacred dance. I practiced secretly in front of a small luminescent Madonna in a tiny dark storage room in our big house. When I was eight years old, I saw an Indian temple dance for the first time on television and felt that this was what I had to do in my life. From the age of nine until twelve, I lived in a nuns’ monastery by my own choice. Those years had a strong effect on my later development, as did the many books I loved reading about the lives of Christian saints and cultures such as Peruvian, Pharaonic, and Aboriginal North American traditions. My passion for dance grew as I became a teenager during the Hippie era, when soul and psychedelic music inspired me greatly.

From the Sufi traditions to the sacred dances of Nepal, your work embodies spirituality. What role does the spiritual aspect of dance play in your life and performances?

A breakthrough came when I first attended a live classical Indian concert in Boston and spontaneously had visions. I learned how to meditate and went on a four-month overland journey to India, all by myself, at the age of 21. Crossing Greece, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Northern India by several buses had a lifelong impact on me. This trip opened my eyes to the spiritual aspect of everything that exists, not only dance and music. The seeds that were planted at that time are still blooming in the garden of my life, with ever more flowers.

During my first lesson in classical South Indian Bharatanatyam, my teacher, the late Dr. Ronald Sequeira, told me that Shiva is the God of dance as well as the God of meditation, and that one cannot function without the other. This has become one of my guiding principles.

I have also had the privilege of meeting several spiritual masters in person. Each of them placed treasures in my heart, mind, and spirit, which later manifested as dances. These connections are kept alive in my daily meditations and prayers. In this way, inspiration continues and develops by itself.

You’ve studied and performed dances from diverse traditions. How do you balance authenticity with your personal artistic interpretation?

I “dive into” these traditions for years and decades with all my senses, until a sense of identification arises within me, while at the same time there is clear acceptance from the people whose traditions I interpret.

Can you share the inspiration behind your large-scale productions like “The Story of the Lotus” and “The World of Tara”?

The inspiration for “The Story of the Lotus” came when I moved to another apartment that had a ceiling with a large mandala plaster relief. On a warm summer day, while relaxing on the sofa and staring at this mandala, visions appeared before my inner eye. As I allowed them to take shape, they became so clear that I was able to create seven small sketches on paper, representing the seven chakras from root to crown, the history of Oriental dance, and the development of spirituality as seen through female eyes—from Pharaonic times to the Age of Aquarius.

“The World of Tara” was a different story. In my final year at the Art Academy in Maastricht, I discovered a copy of the famous statue of Prajnaparamita in the basement and created an oil painting of it, not yet knowing who she was. Through studying books, I learned about this Buddhist goddess who personifies transcendental wisdom and later danced her in several different versions. It was not easy to find dance poses and movements for her, so I asked my Indian Kathak teacher Nandkishor Muley for help.

While studying Prajnaparamita, I came across many images of another Buddhist goddess: Tara, the embodiment of active compassion, who is also depicted as a dancing deity. I created my first Tara dance using the information I could find. This dance impressed audiences and led to further development. The Buddhist Kamalashila Institute invited me to perform, and my students wished to learn this dance as well. I traveled to Nepal to study further under Prajwal Vajracharya, a Newari Charya dancing priest. The result was a two-hour performance on the history of Tara in 21 scenes, involving about 40 dancers in its first version. Later, Canadian and Czech versions followed with even more dancers. It has been a wonderful project and continues to this day.

The Story of the Lotus

The white Taras

Czech Version of "The World of Tara"

Prajnaparamita - Oil Painting by Shahrazad

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Shahrazad as Prajnaparamita

Your work and life reveal a profound affinity for India and its rich cultural traditions. Could you share what draws you so deeply to this culture? Do you believe in reincarnation, and if so, have you ever wondered if your connection to spiritual dances might stem from a life once lived in ancient India?

Perhaps there are some drops of Indian blood circulating in my veins. Being in trance through dance, music, and meditation has often enabled me to discover these roots more easily and to work through karma within the collective subconscious of my ancestors. Reincarnation can be understood and experienced in different ways. Yes, it plays a role in my life, but perhaps not in the way most people would expect.

As someone deeply connected to global cultures, do you see dance as a tool for cultural exchange and understanding?

Absolutely—and this is something we experience again and again. Fortunately, we have many opportunities to actively participate in this exchange.

Your work often explores the feminine divine. How does this theme shape your choreography and teaching philosophy?

We live in a time when female divinity is being rediscovered by part of humanity, while still being suppressed by another. I belong to the first group and experience it as something natural, inspirational, and healing. It resonates deeply with my audience and my students. In a way, they “awaken.”

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Are the roles you embody on stage representations of facets within yourself? Furthermore, do the aspects of divinity you express in your dance reflect parts of your inner world?

Certainly. Some roles are initially based on my personal experiences, but over time they develop into archetypal representations of emotions or aspects of personality that anyone can recognize within themselves. This ranges from the most physical to the most divine.

Over the decades, how has your vision for dance evolved with the changes in the world and within yourself?

With increasing age, I see more and more the importance of dance as a form of yoga with both healing and preventive qualities. It is also about freedom, liberation, social connection, acceptance, development, joy, rejuvenation, cleansing, and more. Everyone has their own story with dance. Mine has been globally embracing—continuously uniting spirit and body, and recognizing the connection between myself and others through our universal roots.

You’ve worked with students and audiences worldwide. What is the most rewarding part of sharing your knowledge with others?

The recognition of our inner connection. It feels as if we are family. We learn from each other. We meet again and again, as if we had known each other in previous lives and now continue what was once left unfinished.

What challenges have you faced in your journey as a dancer, particularly when blending sacred traditions with modern performance art?

One of the most significant challenges arose before my first Prajnaparamita performance. It felt as if something was blocking it. My Canadian healer friend Irene Yaychuck helped me to release this block. There was a deep memory within my DNA of an ancestor—a great-great-grandmother—who had died under terrible circumstances, believing that everything she had done was wrong. I saw the scene vividly before my eyes and felt deep compassion. It had taken place during a period of transition from matriarchal to patriarchal societies. I had to help her pass in peace, with a restored sense of self-worth. My first Prajnaparamita performance took place in a church in Aachen, Germany. From that moment on, the doors to a new sacred dance epoch opened in many ways.

Another challenge was bringing together up to 79 dancers for our remarkable 64 Yogini Project, which was staged as part of Marimar’s “MYTHA” show at the Forum in Leverkusen. Coordinating rehearsals for so many people, addressing individual needs, and creating precise choreography for a complex 8th-century-inspired dance scene pushed me to my limits—not artistically or spiritually, but in terms of the intense organizational and technical demands. Still, the moment we “entered the temple” that we had created on stage and embodied figures such as Shiva, Mahamaya, Durga, and many other divine forms, it became magical and unforgettable.

Shahrazad as High Priest

Mytha Show. The Hirapur 64 Yogini Temple Scene

Mytha Show , Leverkusen 2024

If you could give one piece of advice to aspiring dancers seeking to explore the deeper dimensions of their craft, what would it be?

Returning to Dr. R. Sequeira’s advice: dance and meditation belong together. Maintain a balance between the two. Dance with your body, heart, and spirit. Be as compassionate and wise as possible. Bring joy and healing to your audience. The universe will support you in every way.