You could say Yulia Rudenco was dancing almost before she could walk. Her parents owned one of the largest ballroom dance studios in the country of Moldova, where they trained many young dancers who became world champions. By the tender age of three Rudenco had a pint-sized partner and was joining the legion of students her parents loaded onto a bus on weekends to drive – sometimes for as many as 24 hours – to participate in competitions for amateur couples held across Eastern Europe.

“My parents never pushed me, I just followed everyone’s steps,” says Rudenco, now 26 and based in Fort Myers, Florida. “I loved it right away.”

But despite their relative success, life as studio owners in Moldova was neither easy nor lucrative for her parents.  When Rudenco was 8 – at the urging of her father’s coach, who had made the leap to America to further his career – she and her family left for New York, where her father, who had retired from competing as a professional, became an instructor at a Fred Astaire franchise.

With her amateur partner in Moldova, Rudenco had risen swiftly through the competitive ranks; she had every intention of continuing that path in the U.S. That is, until she realized that all of her father’s students were now adults, not children, and there was no suitable partner for her.

“I had to take a bit of a break once I moved here because I just couldn’t find an amateur partner,” Rudenco says.

The dilemma was resolved when her father realized the Pro-Am system that America favored – where students are judged while dancing with their professional instructors – would permit him to compete with his daughter himself. As a Pro-Am couple, they were immediately successful, to the degree that their results helped build a strong case for the family to earn permanent residency status in the U.S.

“All of a sudden she could dance with her Dad because that’s what the system here allows,” says Rudenco’s current professional partner, Volodymyr Barabash, who himself came to Florida from Ukraine in 2017. “Problem solved.”

The evolution of Pro-Am dancing

DanceSport, the competitive arm of ballroom dancing – a term adopted in the ‘80s by the by the International Council of Amateur Dancers (now known as the World DanceSport Federation) to distinguish competitive dancing from social or recreational dance – is big business in America. On any given weekend you can find a competition taking place somewhere across the country, with hundreds of dancers decked out in dazzling, rhinestone-heavy costuming, dramatic makeup and elaborate up-dos cemented with hairspray, gliding across hotel ballroom floors.

But in America, it is the Pro-Am division of DanceSport (which also includes a division for professional couples) that fuels the financial engine of the ballroom industry. According to the MarketIntelo dance competition market report, of the $1.26 billion generated annually by the entire competitive dance event industry, somewhere between $250 and $450 million is derived from Pro-Am Dancesport. It’s a “pay to play” framework that allows dancers of any age and any skill level to participate – as long as their pockets are deep enough.

There are nearly 150 DanceSport competitions every year sanctioned by the National Dance Council of America (NDCA), the main regulating body in the U.S., and many more staged by nationwide franchises like Arthur Murray and Fred Astaire. Though the NDCA doesn’t release figures, it is estimated at least 30,000 individuals are currently registered as Pro-Am competitors, and the most committed of them can spend upwards of six-figures a year pursuing their dance dreams.

It’s a radically different model than the competition system that has existed abroad for a century and over the past two decades it has helped propel a steady stream of gifted dancers from Eastern Europe to the U.S seeking greater fortune and recognition.

In Europe, dance is a part of nearly every child’s schooling from a young age, a skill deemed as necessary to their development as reading or writing. As it was with Rudenco, amateur students are paired as partners from their earliest years and climb the competitive ranks based on winning placements, as in any other sport.

Amateur competitions in Europe, heavily governed by nonprofit dance clubs, leagues and national federations rather than independent studios, take place in venues like gymnasiums, sports halls or community centers and reward perfected skill and technical accomplishment. The “International style” of dancing students perform is standardized, technical and regulated, with strict rules dictating proper holds, footwork and alignments when moving around the floor.

Partner dancing in the U.S., on the other hand, evolved from the social dance world and was heavily influenced by Hollywood, where featured stars like Gene Kelly or Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers broke away from traditional, “closed hold” partnerships to allow for greater freedom and artistic expression. The dancing public here – adults rather than children – wanted to dance like movie stars.

The “American style” of partner dancing developed almost exclusively through the private studio system, initiated by the national franchises that exist in most moderately sized U.S. cities today. It made learning easier, faster and more satisfying for impatient American consumers eager for rewards and looking for fun, not discipline. Dancing with a skilled instructor rather than another beginning amateur, also helped speed up the learning process.

This led to the Pro-Am competition – at the time unheard of in Europe – which allows students of any age and any amount of experience, to be judged while dancing with a teacher. Rather than taking place in no-frills venues as in Europe, these DanceSport competitions, which often stretch out over a week, are held in luxury hotels, providing participants with an opulent resort-style experience while satisfying their very-American urge to be a “winner.”

In a country where capitalism reigns, having amateurs compete with professionals at upscale events also increases the profits for everyone with a hand in the pie. That includes teachers, studio owners, competition organizers, hotel venues and anyone providing the ancillary beauty and costuming services that are de rigueur for the serious competitor.

All of which has combined to make DanceSport in America an expensive proposition for competitors. Private lessons and coachings can cost anywhere from $100 to $250 for a 45-minute session. Entry fees range from $50 to $75 per single dance entry, each less than two minutes on the floor. A teacher’s services at a comp can run from $200 to $1,000 a day. A second-hand ballgown may cost from $800 to $1,500, an original design up to 10 times more. Therefore, it has become a sport that caters to single adults, predominantly women, with ample incomes.

“Our income depends on those students,” says Sid Pocius, a former studio owner in Sarasota who now organizes and runs six DanceSport competitions known as The Crown Series, in Washington, D.C., Chicago, North Carolina and Florida – including this week’s Florida State DanceSport Championships at the Ritz-Carlton Sarasota. “Unfortunately, without being on television or having corporate sponsors, I don’t see that changing. That would make a huge difference. But they’re not interested until we have more exposure to the public. And we won’t have more exposure until we have more people dancing. So it goes in a circle.”

The competition organizer

In Europe, participating in the most prestigious competitions requires years of advancing up the ranks; in the U.S., a student can start dancing one day and compete in a national championship the next. All it requires is the means to do so. Since Pro-Am competitions are divided by age, dance style, proficiency and skill level, they also offer ample opportunity for anyone to come out on top. With the exception of  the more competitive “scholarship” events where the top three placements earn a very nominal check, the prize for amateurs is typically a medal or trophy.

“In Europe they didn’t think something like this was possible,” says Pocius, who came to Florida from Lithuania in 2001 as part of the early influx of Eastern European dancers. “They thought once you get older, your ship had sailed, you’re done, let alone go on stage. Pro-Am is what has made DanceSport successful in America. Without it, we would not be existing.”

It is only within the past decade that European DanceSport competitions have jumped on the Pro-Am bandwagon, offering events that can lure well-heeled American amateurs to compete overseas. The Blackpool Dance Festival in England, Europe’s oldest and most venerated ballroom competition, did not add a Pro-Am event until 2014, nor invite dancers from abroad until 2017.

Pocius admits the DanceSport business in America has been good to him, but says the learning curve was steep and, initially, “I lost so much money.” Organizers must foot the bill upfront to reserve hotel venues, pay for staff and judges’ (20-30 per event) transportation, lodging and compensation, and underwrite everything from sound systems, lighting and elaborate decorations to prize money and special awards for the teachers and studios that have brought in the most competitors.

An individual amateur DanceSport competitor might enter as few as a dozen single dance entries, or as many as a hundred. On average, Pocius says it takes 4,000-5,000 entries for his events to break even, so unless there is a reliably substantial field, it can be a gamble. When there is, he acknowledges, “it can become very profitable.”

But whether they are amateurs or professionals, not for the competitors. Even the most elite professional couples can’t begin to earn a living from their DanceSport winnings.

The competitive professional couple

The very limited prize money for professional couples means most will spend more to prepare for and attend competitions than they will ever take in, regardless of their results. Placing first usually earns a purse of less than $1,500; failure to make the “finals” (top six couples) equates to no return whatsoever. It’s only through the income they bring in teaching and dancing with Pro-Am students that they can afford to pursue their own competitive dance dreams.

Rudenco and Barabash, who began competing as a professional couple in 2018, now participate in more than 30 DanceSport events a year, participating in both the professional division and with their Pro-Am students. In between competitions, they manage what Rudenco calls a “24/7” schedule, shuttling between Fort Myers and Sarasota, either teaching lessons or taking them and practicing themselves.

“It’s all day, every day,” says Barabash. “We teach, we practice, we get coaching, we plan [competition] trips. And then we get together with friends and talk about dancing. I used to have friends that were not dancers, but they are all gone now. You just can’t sustain the relationships because of this lifestyle.”

Though top tier professional couples often receive sponsorships for their outfits and shoes, their Pro-Am students foot the bill for their transportation and lodging at competitions. Still, they must cover the cost of their own lessons, meals, entry fees, beauty services and other expenses. And, with the exception of the unlikely possibility that they’re offered a job on “Dancing with the Stars,” the wildly successful ballroom dance television show, what they can look forward to when their competing days are over is more of the same, albeit from another angle — as a coach, judge, organizer or studio owner.

“Dancing as a professional is an investment, it’s not a money maker,” says Barabash. “It’s an investment in your knowledge, your skills, your name, so you can try to build something on top of it after you finish competing.”

Neither Rudenco or Barabash express any regrets about their choices to leave Europe or to pursue DanceSport on both the professional and Pro-Am levels. Like most dancers, they are besotted with ballroom and, like many amateur competitors, the attraction of standing atop the first place podium keeps them committed.

“How long will we continue? Who knows?” says Barabash. “As of right now, we’re not champions, we have a couple couples ahead of us and a couple behind us who are not sleeping as well. The goal is just to stay in the moment, to keep improving, to keep enjoying. The good thing about our system is that you always have the next week to prove yourself.”

The Pro-Am student

The allure of competition also proves irresistible to many amateur dancers, despite the price tag that comes with it.

Barbara Leverone, 75, danced in music videos, films and on stage in her 20s, but eventually left the industry in Los Angeles and moved to Sarasota, where she taught movement to actors at the FSU/Asolo Conservatory and then became a practitioner of Feldenkrais, a form of somatic education that helps people improve flexibility, coordination and physical functioning.

Five years ago, her husband, a marine biologist, saw a sign on the side of the road offering free ballroom lessons. They’d tried partner dancing once before in the early ‘90s but realized then that, while raising two children, they simply couldn’t afford it. They decided to try again. This time, as her husband’s interest waned, Leverone’s grew.

“It’s hard to say if I was more thrilled with ballroom, or thrilled to think of myself as a dancer again,” Leverone says. “There’s a difference if you were a dancer when you were younger. You have an experience and a taste and an ethic that’s really deep and goes way back.”

Initially, she was adamant that she was not interested in competing. She’d always hated auditions and knew judges’ subjectivity “was just as strong in ballroom as in Hollywood.” For a couple of years, she just took private lessons and participated only in studio events as her mind adjusted to the investment required to do more. Eventually, however, competing just seemed like “the next right thing to do,” she says.

“The ballroom world has room for everyone,” she says. “You can do ballroom dancing and not spend a fortune – taking group lessons, doing studio presentations, other ‘in-house’ activities – but I cannot say that is true about DanceSport. There’s no doubt that competitive ballroom dancing requires enormous resources.”

Leverone attended her first competition and “absolutely loved it.” She is now well into her second year of competing Pro-Am with her professional partner, Charles Cunningham, and participates in about four competitions a year, all in Florida. She feels fortunate to have been able to find the resources to do so thus far, but isn’t at all sure how much longer she will be able to continue.

“When I first started, the idea of spending $5,000 a year on dance lessons seemed utterly outrageous,” she admits. “Now it’s easy to accept I might have to spend that for a competition, or a dress.”

Yet, within the studio where she trains and on the Pro-Am circuit she has found “a sense of community, of camaraderie” that she is reluctant to lose.

“I feel completely supported, by the studio, my teacher, my fellow students, the coaches,” she says. “The other women dancers are good friends and I treasure that. And underneath it all, there’s still that little bit of Hollywood in me that loves to get out there and dance – as much for my own pleasure and joy as trying to win.”

Though the idea that she may not be able to continue competing is “a little depressing,” she has no regrets about the investment she’s made so far.

“Competitive dancing has allowed me to think of myself as a dancer again… a real dancer,” she says. “That feeling at this level and at this age, is something I never thought I would have a chance to experience again. I’m recovering a love that led me to Hollywood over 50 years ago. It’s very different but I’m tasting something that lights me up like nothing else ever has in my life.”

Passion or addiction?

So powerful is the draw of the competitive ballroom world that for some it can obscure monetary realities. For Susan, who asked that her real name not be used, her obsession with Pro-Am DanceSport eventually led to a hard financial fall.

In 2017 she retired to Florida from Texas where, as a girl, she’d competed in roller skating. Unhappiness in her marriage and boredom led her to a ballroom studio, where she instantly formed “a wonderful circle of friends” and became inextricably caught up in the excitement, fun and glamour of the world of DanceSport.

One competition led to another, then to taking lessons and competing with multiple teachers and spending thousands of dollars on costumes, practice wear, hair, makeup, showcases, coachings with visiting professionals and even gifts for everyone in her dance circle. She estimates she blew through at least $250,000 over two years before she was forced to withdraw and declare bankruptcy.

“I think I transferred what I wasn’t getting at home in my marriage to the studio,” she days. “It was fun, but in hindsight, it was deadly.”

Now divorced, at 70 she has been forced to return to the work force. While she takes full responsibility for having gotten in over her head, she acknowledges that a return to the dancefloor is not in her future.

“Even if I could afford to go back, I wouldn’t,” she says. “I lack the will power.”

The studio owner

While there is no doubt that Pro-Am Dancesport in America has become a pursuit of the wealthy, that doesn’t mean some form of ballroom dance isn’t available to the less well-heeled. Maks and Sarah Lototskyy, owners of the independent Dynasty Dance Clubs, acknowledge that while it takes considerable resources to be a serious Dancesport competitor, the benefits of ballroom dancing are accessible to almost anyone.

Maks Lototskyy grew up in Ukraine and was trained in the typical Eastern European fashion. Sponsored by the former owner of the studio he now owns, he came to Sarasota in 2006, where he quickly  learned the American style of ballroom and began competing with students on the Pro-Am circuit.

His wife was introduced to ballroom dancing as a young teen at a franchise studio in her native Wisconsin after her parents began dancing there. Within six months of her first lesson, she had entered her first Pro-Am competition and by the age of 17, she’d won national Pro-Am titles in American style Rhythm and International style Latin.

The following year she began competing as a professional and in 2013 she moved to Sarasota to team up with Lototsky — a professional relationship that evolved into a romance. The couple finished second in the nation in the professional 9-Dance division (which includes all the American style dances – waltz, tango, foxtrot, Viennese waltz, chacha, rhumba, swing, bolero and mambo) before retiring in 2018.

Today – one marriage and two children later -- the Lototskyys have experienced DanceSport from pretty much every angle, from student to teacher to professional competitors to now, studio owners. Maks Lototskyy currently has more than a half dozen serious competitive Pro-Am students and teaches a very full-time schedule. In recent years, Sarah Lototskyy has turned most of her attention to developing the nonprofit Dynasty Stars, one of the largest ballroom dance programs in the country for students with special needs.

Ballroom for all

Maks Lototskyy calls their business, which has locations in Sarasota, Venice and St. Petersburg, “a bit of a white elephant,” in that it caters to both children and adults, competitors and non-competitors, and students of all physical abilities. Young dancers can take an unlimited number of group classes for a fixed monthly fee; adults who want to compete or perform but can’t afford DanceSport competitions can participate in in-house “mini matches,” dance parties and showcases. At the same time, the studio has developed a reputation for producing highly competitive Pro-Am dancers.

Though competition is deeply engrained in both of their backgrounds and provides, they believe, its own unique benefits, they realize not everyone will choose to compete. The students who come through their doors and their reasons for doing so are as diverse as humans are variable. Their goal is to ensure that each one discovers the benefits of ballroom no matter their financial ability or their interest in competing.

“I find that very often we as humans go through stages of life, whether it’s empty nest or divorce, losing a spouse or survival of cancer,” Maks Lototskyy says. “Times when you’re trying to reinvent yourself. Ballroom dancing has the capacity to bring a whole different world before you. It’s almost like a fantasy, something not attainable in most other hobbies. It’s a bit of role playing.”

His job, he says, is to tap into whatever his clients hope to find through their dancing, whether the goal is losing weight, gaining confidence, or becoming a national champion. And while there is no doubt that the studio’s Pro-Am students have contributed financially to the success of his business, students represent more to the Lototskyys than just a dollar sign.

Because however you choose to practice it, ballroom dancing has “the ability to change people’s lives,” says Sarah Lototskyy.

Nowhere has that become more evident to her than through her work with her special needs students. Since taking up ballroom, some are now able to touch others and be touched for the first time without discomfort, others who were previously non-verbal have begun to speak. Through their experiences as Pro-Am dancers, most have found a recognition, appreciation and sense of accomplishment that has alluded them in every other facet of their lives.

“The fulfillment I get from seeing lives change right in front of me is worth more than any dollar amount,” Sarah Lototskyy says. “I love this world because of what it does for people in general. For the price of what we charge, I actually think we’re cheap for the benefits people receive.”

Florida State Dancesport Championships, July 29 through August 2 at the Ritz Carlton Sarasota, 1111 Ritz Carlton Dr., Sarasota. Spectators, $35-70. Tickets and full schedule at www.floridastatedance.com.