Latecomers looking for tickets to Saturday night’s performance of
“Break! The Urban Funk Spectacular” at Northeastern University were
greeted at the door of the Blackman Theatre by makeshift “sold out”
signs. But those who did manage to get seats were treated to a
high-octane, two-hour hip-hop extravaganza that had audience members
bouncing in their seats.
“Break!,” a New York
City-based company whose current show traces the history of the last 30
years of hip-hop, features a large cast of dancers and musicians, all
renowned for their distinctive talents, from drumming and beatboxing to
breakdancing, popping and locking.
Compounding the spectacle were breathtaking audio and visual effects,
including the liberal use of a billowy smoke machine that had folks in
the first five rows batting at the air with their programs. But it was
the performers themselves who set off the real pyrotechnics,
particularly the vocal fireworks of Kenny Muhammad, who lived up to his
sobriquet as “The Human Orchestra.”
Muhammad, armed only with two vocal chords and a microphone, first laid
down a beat that would make many contemporary rhythm sections blush.
Then, maintaining all the consistency of an automated drum loop, he
tacked on a supplementary layer of samples as he ratcheted up the
rhythm’s complexity. Muhammad also remixed his own beats as he
scratched, squeaked, rewound, slowed down and sped up with the mastery
of a seasoned DJ, a comparison he openly invited when he squared off
against the dance company’s resident turntablist, DJ Razor Ramon.
Egged on by percussionist Doron Lev, Ramon sought to produce a beat or
sound that The Human Orchestra could not replicate. Though the Razor —
seemingly so-named every bit as much for his cut abdominal muscles as
for his surgically precise LP cuts, both of which he displayed with
open vanity during his own impressive solo — brought his A-game, there
was no sound too intricate for Muhammad to match.
Not to be outdone, Lev displayed his own rhythmic and vocal virtuosity,
banging out an appropriately funky drumbeat with his left hand while
gripping the mic with his right. He freestyled to crowd-pleasing topics
fed to him by Ramon and Muhammad, including Northeastern (“Commin’
atcha like a Nor’easter / even though it ain’t Christmas, nor Easter”),
Boston and the Super Bowl-bound Patriots (“It’s no science / that I
ain’t rootin’ for the Giants”).
It was against this backdrop of winsome musicians that the performers
themselves were able to shine. Divided loosely into separate but
overlapping “power” and “style” teams, the former displayed appropriate
vertical virtuosity in their adrenaline-pumping B-boy acrobatics, while
the latter group proved an excellent foil with their comparatively
relaxed but no less impressive popping and locking.
The power team demonstrated their versatility as they ran the gamut
from the highly traditional Brazilian martial art of capoeira — except
for the remixed berimbau music, cuts courtesy of Razor Ramon —
displayed by Zen One (Ron Wood) to the gravity-defying aerial
somersaults of young Deshawn “Jumping Bean” Sanders.
Standout acts from the style team included a smokin’ tribute to “the
robot,” featuring the performance’s only B-girl, Japanese native Kumiko
Naito, known in the hip-hop world as “Lockin’ Q,” as well as a set by
Aquaboogy (Otoniel Vasquez), who bore a beret, smiled suggestively,
rolled his eyes, and leered at the audience in a seamless, mime-like
solo, hilariously broaching but never crossing the line into
inappropriate territory.
Over the course of the evening, each dancer impeccably nailed every
pop, stuck every flip, turned every spin and held every freeze and
stall like a veritable live-action pop-up — n’ lock-down — textbook on
breakdancing technique.
But the textbook analogy illuminates the performance’s greatest
weakness, as well. The scripted routines that enabled the dancers to
showcase impeccable breakdancing technique prevented “Break!” from
conveying the essence of breakdance: improvisation. The spectacle’s
highly choreographed dance numbers owe as much to Broadway as they do
to the Boogie Down.
Nevertheless, the family-friendly performance might have inspired a new
generation of hip-hop artists: during intermission and after the show,
young children and college students alike wandered into the aisles and
gamely tried out toprocks of their own.