DAY 3
Oh. This is different. For me. I realized this almost instantly at my hip hop class with the Zenon Dance School. Zenon is housed at the beautiful Cowles Center and it’s worth taking a class or two just to peek at the impressive architecture of the historic studios alone. But back to my hip hopping. After no introductions and a brief warm up (which could only be described as pop & lock yoga) we got right to it. Straight into choreography. After only two counts of eight, I made a point of apologizing to the dancers nearest to me. Not for my moves, but for my giggles. I could not stop laughing. There wasn’t a combination I executed without an inexplicable cackle escaping. The breakneck pace, the hard bass of the music and the energy of the other dancers was intoxicating enough to infuse the experience with a state of near hysterical hilarity for me. This has to be what the inside of a champagne bottle feels like.
In between inappropriate outbursts, I mentally noted the stylistic intricacies of the genre at hand. Walking in, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I have vague memories of a cardio hip hop situation at the rec center in college and I love a packed dance floor as much as the next guy. So maybe I assumed it would be a class on elevating clubbing skills? Or the etiquette of dance battles? Would I end up with a crew? While I did gain some new friends (so many extroverts), to me this particular class was a fast-paced study on shape unlike anything I had experienced. No theory, no words, simply learning by watching. Repeat it back, and move on.
I was quickly fascinated by how very three dimensional the style was. Breaks and stops; filling and then just as quickly evacuating a space in favor of a new plane. I was a thrilled preschooler every time my body triangle/square/rhombus looked even remotely similar to the one instructor Arturo Miles (pictured) was making with his. Aside from the class in college (I mean, did I Zumba?) hip hop is a far cry from the techniques I have practiced in the past. If there had been even one moment to pause and assess, I’m certain I would have been able to feel my brain stretching with new kinetic possibility. My body on the other hand? For exactly 60 minutes I was a flail of arms and legs and probably won’t walk for a week. It’s fine. It gives me time to come up with a proper name for my crew.
