Arts > Theatre

Breakin' Convention

Norwich Theatre Royal

15/05/17

If dance is the language of movement, then Jonzi D's understanding of hip hop theatre speaks unapologetically of change. The Theatre Royal embraced such a message on Saturday 13th May with the hosting of Jonzi D’s Breakin’ Convention. A veteran and ambassador for the inclusion of hip hop into institutions and educational curricula, Jonzi D is a progressive and inclusive visionary who believes in the unifying power of culture and artistic expression to triumph over political factions.

To him, dance and language have always been synonymous. “I began dancing to the sound of my mother’s heartbeat” he says, talking about the origin of an attitude. "Dance was something that always happened around me as soon as I came about in this family - I was the last of six kids - and dance was as common as speaking.” From an early upbringing in a Granadian family soaked in Soca and Calypso, Jonzi D brought his own cultural leanings into the educational establishments he attended – from dance classes in school to his further studies in contemporary dance.

“Hip hop has always been a theatrical device. What’s we’re trying to do is label hip hop within a theatrical context… we’re addressing the fragmented society that we live in, that’s creating division over mainly class… culture doesn’t create class divisions." Art and expression are solutions to these divisions. "We need to start talking about this language of a oneness and start looking at the elements of society that are making us feel apart. Politics is completely fucked when it comes to blaming certain parts of society for different problems.” In a world of mixed messages and false dialectics, hip hop “allows the voice of the so-called underclass to not be compromised.”

Jonzi D is himself uncompromising, having refused to accept an MBE in 2011 for his contributions to British culture. As he would go on to write in his performance The Letter - an inner dialogue about the episode - "If you accepted it, you accept their shit. Tell you what: give me a VBE, Victim of British Empire." Jonzi D studied contemporary dance in London in the mid-80’s and found the training to be “archaic” compared to the amount of "creative intelligence" he had acquired through breaking and popping. Classical forms of theatre and dance tend to be bound by virtue of being ‘established’, having their language more set, while the nature and culture of hip hop is infused with what Jonzi D sums up as an Each One, Teach One’attitude. The learning process is impulsive and expanding, and by virtue of its competitive, confrontational edge, subjects itself to perpetual change. And that growth – personal, physical and cultural – was evident in the day’s events at the Theatre Royal.

This unconventional convention was an inclusive display of spray-painting, breakdancing workshops and exhibitions.

Theatre Royal’s Victoria Jenkins organised the graffiti elements of the day. Inside, a photographic exhibition of graffiti found on streets around the world decked the halls around the Adnam’s Stall Bar. Outside, in Theatre Royal’s new educational facility, Stage Two, graffiti artist Step 39 invited passers-by to add colour to a large mural on boards, while staff were on hand to help others spray-paint baseball caps. Victoria found that the tone of the convention made theatre more accessible for young people who might otherwise find the environment intimidating.

Dance workshops were hosted by Kelly Ludgrove (KelFX) of Norwich’s breakdancing crew, Force 10, who have been going for almost two decades. When she was not compéring over the classic funk-driven sounds of Norwich’s veteran DJs Chrome and Sure D, Kelly was busy with her ensemble preparing for their performance that night. Two large chequered lino mats were spread out in the theatre – one downstairs under the Adnam’s Stall Bar, and another in the upstairs Circle Bar. From the start of proceedings, the downstairs mat became increasingly occupied by dancers of all ages – some as young as six or seven. All showed great talent and potential, and it was heartwarming to see such young people so completely embrace a culture. Jonzi D believes there is an onus on the ‘elders’ of the hip hop community to educate the next generation, and it certainly seemed that – with perhaps 60-70 dancers present under the age of 18 - a ‘school of hard knock-ons’ was in full effect. The process of learning was happening before my eyes, as young onlookers watched intently before the mental switch of ‘I can/can’t do that’ flicked to positive and they gave their all for a minute of manoeuvers.

And all this experiential education extended to the formalities of the show itself. How thoroughly engrossing it must have been for these energetic Norfolk teenagers, finding expression through hip hop culture, to take part in a performance which featured seven dance groups from around the world, with varying sizes of casts and approaches to hip hop theatre. This led to a broad spectrum of displays – from large set pieces of synchronised dancing to lone dancers illuminated by a single spot. The local artists were many - three dance groups each comprising of perhaps 20 young performers, some as young as 10.

Parallel Dance's Glitch opens the show with a single actor sitting front of stage holding a controller for a computer game console. The lights come on across the stage and the full cast is bathed in a motherboard green as they stand covering the floor. Behind them a projection looms large and displays retro computer games - Mario Bros., Donkey Kong, etc. As the gaming commences, the dance sequences reflect the objects on-screen - from Ryu's fireball attack to Mario's journey across various platforms. The audio is replete with the signature sounds of the arcade world - jingling coins, jumps, lives lost, etc. The young performers do well to stick to the choreography, as they form moving lines and shapes, while solo performers interact with them, mimicking their animated avatars. The whole composition stands out as an example of physical movement wrapped in a technical form.

From the visual array of computer FX and large group dance sequences , we go to the The Art of Breakin' and their straightforward, no-frills Exchange. Devised by KelFX of Norwich's veteran breakin' cru Force 10, this is an honest and plain presentation - the darkened stage is suddenly spotlit, and I was delighted to see a young girl (I would guess no older than 10), who had been showing such enthusiasm in the dance workshops outside, open the performance. I can only imagine how she must have felt in those seconds of darkness before the light lit up her half of the stage, a cue to go into a freestyle dance and be the sole focus for this full venue. Her spirit shines through, even after her confident stepping comes to a halt and she stands defiant. The light on her side dims and she is back in the dark, while the other half of the stage is then illuminated to reveal the next contender - a young boy of a similar age who I had also seen taking on the competition on the lino out in the bar. Back and forth the two spotlights go up and then down, revealing another performer. They get progressively older and the structure remains the same, but the emphasis on the individual and the stripped-down approach of simply letting these gifted performers do their thing made me appreciate the effort and energy that all put into their art. Each dance was a freestyle, and so there was nothing to detract from the individual actor's expression through movement.

The audience was then invited to focus on one actor alone, as B-Boy Soopa Noodle did a solo extract of Fly No Filter’s Glorious Tour. This is a clever conceptual piece he devised and performed in the Royal Opera House previously. Everything about the performance is intentionally awkward – from the awkward silence generated as he begins by staring out at the audience, only slightly moving, before pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose walking forward and immediately falling on the floor, to the awkward subject of the character’s name Roni, which nobody seems to be able to pronounce. Soopa Noodle expresses this awkwardness through dance – contradictory movements and juxtaposition of limbs getting in the way of himself – while a backing voice sample reveals that, actually,‘Roni is a common name - at least in musical history - and has been mentioned many times in hip hop’s history and before, going back to Michael Jackson. By the end, both awkward movement and obscure identity justify themselves to the audience, and the whole becomes a frustrated expression about having to ‘fit in’.

From the highly competitive clubhouse dance scene in the township of Soweto strut the Skeleton Movers – a superb blend of hip hop inspired street-dance, circus skills and acrobatic manouevers. Lively and astounding, this quartet generate a performance embellished with joy. They play beautiful games with the beanie-hats they each sport. Spins in the air and a subtle breath keeps them afloat above their heads for mesmerising seconds. Then the hats are dropped down to their feet for games of keepy-up, hopping in time to the pounding blend of synthetic sound and African drums. Dislocated shoulders are a feature for one performer, as he locks his hands and winds the loop of his arms around his body in contorted ways. At one stage, he doubles over and brings his arms up over his back and down to the ground to pick up the beanie-hat before him. The move – a way of picking his hat up after unintentionally dropping it - is executed so slickly the eye is left with a glimpse of an almost impossible move. The exquisite performance is moulded in a heart-warming attitude to life – upbeat and upfront, outgoing and outstanding, The Soweto Skeleton Movers are inspired in their comic genius.

Carrying on the breaking of convention, the interval for the show is abnormally long - a full 30 mins. However, this is not so much time for reflection as a chance for further interaction as performers are back at the bar to dance on the lino while the audience pick up their drinks. There is a great buzz in the air as the off-stage element - the understanding that this is a way of life that does not stop - is pronounced yet again. KelFX is compéring over the brilliant beats played by two members of Norwich's original hip hop heads, Chrome and Sure D. Chrome runs a regular hip hop night in Norwich, No Half-Steppin, and has recently released Sundown Syndrome a full-on album with Norwich's one-man armaments factory Ricky Lix. Chrome is set to perform with his co-conspirator Illinspired (the 'I' of the duo's monicker All C 'n' I) in an upcoming hip hop festival at the Norwich Arts Centre. Sure D is a household name in Norwich, having played in practically every worthwhile venue in the city. Seeing these people who were switched on by hip hop decades ago - when it finally found it's way up the A11 - now play a key role in motivating dozens of young people to do the same was encouraging and uplifting. The result - evident throughout the day and at the interval - is a credit to Jonzi D's Convention team and The Theatre Royal. KelFX sounds out the five-minute warning over the popping bodies and bouncing rhythm, and the audience almost reluctantly returns to the show.

Another local act opens the second half. Cat Chapman's all-male Legacy dance group show great fluidity and energy in their performance Water. The troupe are co-ordinated in style and substance, evident in their uniform red-and-black baseball-style jackets and their tight routine (choreographed by Cat Chapman and co-worker Scooby). The group show great interaction and flair as they put on their display of various break-dancing moves, from group set sequences to individual outbreaks of whirling limbs. Clever choreography and a clear drive to achieve is stamped on Legacy's performance, and they stand out by virtue of what they put in.

Following Legacy's punchy performance, Tentacle Tribe are a duet from Montréal, Canada, and their Nobody Likes a Pixelated Squid is as obscure as its title suggests. A male-female couple (dancers Cleopatra and Wandering Spirit) awake under a spotlight and lift their heads with jarring movements – a surreal pause/play motion that is acted out to suggest an intimate but disjointed relationship. At first the two stop and start in unison, but as they rise and dance together, one moves while the other stands still. The dancing is a blend of contemporary and breaking, a liquid flow punctuated every now and again with whirling legs. While the music becomes more energetic, the lighting expands and colourises to project changing mood.  A vocal sample reminds us of the sometimes surreal nature of living, the uncertain understanding of cause and effect, reflections on the whole. And, as the couple return from their dance to rest again beneath a single spotlight, the voice queries the possibility that the world is but a dream. The combination of timely pauses and disciplined technique, along with an engaging rhythm and reflective commentary makes Nobody Likes a Pixelated Squid a bewildering wonder to watch.

Complimenting the Soweto Skeleton Mover’s comic, playful choreography,  comes an impressively orchestrated outburst from South Korea – a location rising high in the world of breakdancing. Just Dance’s 7 Human Emotions opens with a solo drummer in traditional Korean dress, beating slowly on an hourglass drum. The rhythm builds and soon the 7 Emotions are illuminated one-by-one to reveal themselves, in masks and black jumpsuits. The opening dance move is one performer spinning on two arms with his legs waving about for the best part of half a minute. What follows next is a montage of dance sequences, executed with a regimental rudeness. The martial aspect of breakdancing comes to the fore as each performer - both individually and in dynamic unison - attacks the stage. Refined technique and intense energy are the hallmarks of the whole dynamic set, and the majestic performance is crowned with a head-spin to make everyone’s head spin. A rich blend of avant-garde and raw tradition, Just Dance make worlds come together in collide-a-scope.

Overall, the day was a resounding exclamation of hip hop's journey into the theatrical world - a spectrum of lights from around the world and around the corner coming together to inspire and achieve. This is the inclusive spirit which Jonzi D is determined to maintain, an antidote to the mercenary misogyny too often seen as the be-all and end-all of what exclusive elitists and closed institutions ironically refer to as an 'outsider art-form'. But where will they be when the world they choose to be removed from takes centre-stage?

Photos and footage by Fiona Witton