08/07/2026
Ganas. Karina Riquelme wrote the word in 2016, exhausted after a long Sunday of dancing, and she has not run out since. Years later she named one of her solo choreographies Ganas. Ten years, the same word.
The engineer in her keeps it organized. She finished that degree in Santiago while she was already dancing, and she has never much liked doing one thing at a time. This year she took first place at El Mundial in Santiago and first place as a professional soloist at Azúcar in Santa Cruz de la Sierra. In Bolivia she was not content to only compete. She judged. She taught a workshop. Then she won.
None of that is where she starts.
She opened Espacio KR because she wanted a room with a particular temperature in it, and her sentence about why runs longer than any slide allows: a place where they would feel comfortable, welcomed, protected, where they could be themselves, learn, challenge themselves, and become whoever they wanted to be. A room, in other words, where other women could find their own ganas. She directs KR Ladies out of it, cheerfully blunt about the method, which involves discomfort on purpose, and just as blunt about the reason, which is that she wants them to know exactly what they are capable of.
It works. Her own trophy is in the photographs from that Bolivian weekend, and so is this. One of her dancers competed too and placed third in the amateur soloist category. Karina posted a picture of the two of them, cheek to cheek, and said she could not have asked for better company.
Ask her for her favorite moment and she does not reach for a title. She names the walk out onto the floor with her company. Me siento blindada, she says. I feel shielded.
Written by Geremy Landin.
Photography courtesy of the artist.
Audio: Sin Poderte Hablar, Willie Colón.
RISE · International Artist Profile · No. 10
