It’s a freezing night in High Wycombe and a school gym is filling up with locals: coltish teens, thirtysomething mothers, button-nosed 12-year-olds. They come here every week and they’re lucky to have a place. This street dance class is hot: as their teacher Andy Instone reminds them, there’s already a big waiting list for next term.
Inside, it’s all pumping bass and baggy clothing, a very urban vibe; outside, it’s just the quiet suburban streets of Buckinghamshire. When the class begins, you can see why it’s so popular. Instone starts with a basic step – hardly a step, more an internal movement, a way of tuning in to the music. Downbeats, offbeats and crossbeats pulse inside torsos. They look cool and funky, tapping into that primal connection between body and beat. I feel like joining in.
The term “street dance” encompasses classic funk (popping and locking) and b-boy styles (breakdancing and hip-hop), club and house dance, MTV-style formation, vogueing and the explosive energy of krump. The result is a potent mix, and rhythm is its lifeblood.
Instone, from local troupe Urban Strides, began giving lessons while still at school; now 28, he manages the company from the basement of his High Wycombe home. That sounds modest, but it isn’t: right now, he is running 17 classes locally, filling around 400 places a week. This month, he’ll launch another 11 classes.
Urban Strides’ success reflects the boom in street dance, which is edging into the mainstream and changing the landscape of dance. No longer associated with urban, or even suburban centres, it’s reaching into the heartlands. Its traditional platforms were “the battles” (large-scale competitions with huge audiences), and music videos or live acts. But, in the wake of So You Think You Can Dance and Got to Dance, street dance is becoming the stuff of prime-time TV: Britain’s Got Talent, once dominated by music acts, was won by street dancer George Sampson in 2008, and by Essex-based formation group Diversity a year later.
Street dance is also transforming theatre. In 2008, Kate Prince’s Into the Hoods, an inspired mash-up of Stephen Sondheim and street dance, became the West End’s longest-running (24 weeks) dance show, trouncing previous record-holder Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake; Pied Piper, by east London company Boy Blue, had two hugely successful runs at the Barbican last year. And the next few months will see a flurry of activity. Blaze, a mix of spectacular dance and video directed by Anthony van Laast (best known for choreographing Mamma Mia! and Sister Act), opened in London last week. In June, Swedish company Bounce return with Insane in the Brain, an offbeat take on One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. But before that, as well as the seventh Breakin’ Convention hip-hop festival, May will see the release of StreetDance, Britain’s first 3D feature film, a love story set against a hip-hop group renting studios in a ballet school.
So what’s the appeal of street dance? “It connects with the dynamic of contemporary life,” explains Jonzi D, programmer of Breakin’ Convention. “The speed at which we absorb information; the flicking between channels – it taps into that energy.” Certain pieces by the young choreographer Hofesh Shechter carry the stamp of street dance, and the crossover is even reaching ballet: last year, Tommy Franzen (a finalist in this year’s So You Think You Can Dance) starred in Goldberg, which this week won an Olivier; meanwhile, Edinburgh b-boy Tony Mills assisted in the creation of Scottish Ballet’s experimental production Petrushka.
“It feels like the secret’s out,” says Jonzi D. “Particularly on television. It reminds me of the 80s, with The Hot Shoe Show, or Arlene Phillips and Hot Gossip.” In fact, the plot of StreetDance echoes that of landmark 1980s film Flashdance, in which a club dancer wows the judges at a ballet academy. Following Flashdance, gyms filled up with ankle warmers and aerobics classes, as breakdance exploded across the world. But a decade later, hip-hop music and dance were in the doldrums. Could street dance be in for another cycle of boom and bust?
“I’d hate to see that happen again,” says Boy Blue’s Kenrick Sandy. “It’s a blessing that street dance has such recognition, but we need to consolidate the gains – and not lose an understanding of the culture. I’m no purist, but if you don’t understand where it came from, you’re just another person jumping on the bandwagon. We need to appreciate and respect the art form, not just make it into reality TV.”
Jonzi D agrees. “Once the dance becomes just technique, we lose its foundation in culture. I worry that people don’t understand that – and it’s eroding this explosion of street dance. Even if you’re not involved in ‘battles’, you should understand that they’re central. They’ve developed the technique, generated new moves. They’re not just talent shows.”
Whatever the future holds, one thing is certain: with a new generation of performers, street dance is here to stay. “They’re getting younger and more skilful,” says Sandy.
Street dance’s masculine (and sometimes macho) magnetism has pulled in a lot of boys. And, as it spreads, its racial profile is becoming more mixed. “It is the true contemporary dance of today,” says van Laast.