The Olympic battles, which are set for Aug. 9 and 10, will be a watershed moment for a dance form conceived and cultivated by Black and Hispanic youth in the Bronx during the 1970s, when they boogied at basement parties and park jams to the break beats played by hip-hop architects like DJ Kool Herc and Grandmaster Flash.
Back then, breaking’s fundamental movements provided escapism and expression, competitive and spontaneous physical performance breathed to life by the dawning genre of hip-hop. Breakers danced to make a name for themselves and earn respect in their neighborhoods.
But breaking — not “break dancing,” a term coined by media and disdained within the breaking community — no longer belongs solely to New York City. In Paris, Olympic breakers representing countries like Japan, Lithuania and Morocco will compete one-on-one in battles waged for a global television audience.
“This was something we did to release,” said Beta Langebeck, a pioneering Miami-based B-girl who now judges competitions. “These kids now, it’s a different opportunity. They get to elevate and compete with the best.”
1983Members of the Dynamic Rockers put on an exhibition in Jamaica, Queens, as captured by Martha Cooper, one of the first photographers to document breaking.
Breaking traveled to nooks and crannies around the world, first through movies like “Beat Street” (1984) and international demonstrations performed by the Rock Steady Crew and Mighty Zulu Kingz. Technology like VHS tapes, DVDs and video platforms like YouTube allowed breakers around the world to learn moves and iterate new ones.
“That’s why I love it so much, because it’s never the same,” said Menno van Gorp, who will represent the Netherlands. “It’s always about innovating and re-innovating. It’s a creative expression, and new ideas bring new ideas, and it’s just a nonstop thing.”
This spring, at Red Bull’s Lords of the Floor competition, we watched Olympians bust out some of the moves they’ll showcase at the Summer Games and asked experts how some of breaking’s roots will be on display in Paris.
Originally performed to carve out space on a dance floor, toprock establishes a breaker’s style and connection to the music.
The foot, hand and arm movement performed while standing, toprock opens every breaker’s set, whether in competition or in the cyphers where B-boys and B-girls dance and battle informally. Originally a way to carve out space on a dance floor, toprock serves as a breaker’s hello to the audience, judges and opponents, and as an introduction to their style. It’s the get up before the get down.
Ami Yuasa, a Japanese B-girl, said she uses toprock for “vibing up,” connecting to the music.
“Breaking is like expressing myself,” Yuasa said, adding: “When I’m doing toprock, I’m trying to use my hand to, like, tell them who I am and open up to everybody in the venue.”
“He’s known for doing things in dynamic, high-energy and unexpected ways.” — Candy Bloise, Paris Olympic commentator, on Shigeyuki Nakarai, a.k.a. B-boy Shigekix, Japan
In Paris, breakers will not know beforehand what music the D.J. will play for their battles but will likely start with toprock before quickly transitioning to the floor. Each Olympic battle lasts only up to a minute so it’s imperative that competitors advance rapidly to other moves to catch judges’ attention.
That’s a departure from breaking’s roots, when battles consisted primarily of toprock, also termed uprock, said Ronnie Abaldonado, a veteran breaker who will be a commentator at the Paris Olympics.
“Now, uprock is its own dance,” Abaldonado said. “They actually have uprock battles, where they don’t get on the ground at all.”
Toprock ends with the go down or drop, a breaker’s transition to the floor while (ideally) maintaining the music’s beat. The knee drop is one of the best-known go downs. It is part mirage, appearing as though the dancer is painfully kicking themselves behind their own knee, which drops forward to the floor as the breaker lands in a crouch, resting on the opposite foot.
A form of downrock (moves performed on the floor), footwork encompasses the intricate steps breakers perform while supporting themselves on one or both hands.
Breaking’s meat and potatoes, footwork and floorwork, are part of downrock — the moves performed on the floor. Footwork was directly influenced at hip-hop’s birth, when D.J.s who extended break beats provided more time for breakers to experiment, debut and flaunt moves while on the floor.
In much of footwork, breakers support themselves on one or both hands while moving their legs through a medley of intricate steps, as with the six-step, where a breaker circles a central point on the floor while holding their upper body aloft.
By the 1980s, footwork expanded to include elements like thread, moving one part of the body through another body passage, akin to threading a needle, and knee rock, footwork with one or both knees on the ground. Crowd-pleasing elements like power moves (think windmills and head spins) and freezes originate from footwork.
“Ami’s footwork expertise is almost unmatched. Her vocabulary is one of the most comprehensive and extensive, even amongst the top 15.” — Candy Bloise, Paris Olympic commentator, on Ami Yuasa, a.k.a. B-girl Ami, Japan
David Shreibman, known as “Kid David,” a breaker and commentator for Red Bull’s BC One competition, described footwork, with its emphasis on precision and placement, as one of the most difficult aspects of breaking.
“The technicality has increased a lot, as far as very technical footwork steps,” Shreibman said.
Other observers noted that the footwork of today’s breakers is more complex and acrobatic. “I try to think, like, how can I use the whole area and, like, my details on the floor,” Yuasa said.
Some elements of footwork include transitions like spins and sweeps, which allow a breaker to seamlessly enter, exit and link power moves, freezes and combinations. The best transitions go nearly unnoticed by many — except judges, of course.
1981The Rock Steady Crew and Dynamic Rockers battling at Lincoln Center Out of Doors Festival.
Breaking’s most dynamic, and recognizable, moves (think: windmills, head spins and airflares).
Even the names of the various power moves carry visions of dynamism, athleticism, artistry and a whiff of danger: windmills, halos, head spins, airflares.
They are breaking’s home runs and slam dunks, and are the elements of breaking that have evolved throughout the decades, as breakers became stronger and the world got more connected.
In the 1970s, breakers with backgrounds in gymnastics and martial arts successfully translated those experiences into power moves. In a notable example, flares — when a breaker balances their upper body between both arms and swings their legs around in a circle — derive from the Thomas Flair, a pommel horse move invented by the U.S. gymnast Kurt Thomas.
According to Shreibman, breakers from California to Japan could more easily one up each other once YouTube began spreading video of moves and tutorials two decades ago. Though some have decried the resulting loss of regional styles and individuality, key components in breaking’s origin, the spread of social video has helped to quickly raise the level of competition globally.
“He makes everything from power to freezes look effortless. Victor has that Florida, East Coast, B-boy style that you can’t learn.” — Candy Bloise, Paris Olympic commentator, on Victor Montalvo, a.k.a. B-boy Victor, United States
“Power has been pushed to a place where I think it’s safe to say a lot of dancers from my generation, the generation before me, never thought these things would be happening as far as the difficulty and amount of rotations,” Shreibman said. Strength training has also fueled the advancing technicality, with breakers stacking multiple power moves in a single routine.
For example, where flares once existed as a fundamental component of breaking, generations of variants now dot battles. The airflare, to name one, requires an inverted breaker: holding themself up on one hand, to whip their legs around in a full circle, while holding a spread eagle position. Breakers are now in a race to see who can complete two full revolutions in a single whip.
“We got people doing one-handed airflares and we got people trying to do even the double airflares, which almost sounds impossible, but people are almost making it,” said Lee-Lou Demierre, who will compete for the Netherlands.
“People are getting closer and closer,” van Gorp said. “Before, it seemed impossible.”
Punctuating moves that bring a breaker’s whirlwind routine to a stylish halt.
Freezes, when a breaker stops all body movement on a dime, often in a gravity-defying pose, used to be reserved for a breaker’s big finale.
“The exclamation point,” Abaldonado said.
They can be likened to gymnastic dismounts. Stick one and it’s the chef’s kiss ending to a battle. Miss it and, well, people always remember endings over beginnings.
“Freezes have become its own style within itself,” said Alien Ness, born Luis Martinez. An influential B-boy as a member of the Mighty Zulu Kingz, Ness has trained some Olympic competitors.
“Someone could go out there and depending on the beat, hit nothing but freezes on the beat, which is something that we didn’t do back in the days. Back in the days you hit a freeze, that’s it. Your set was over.” — Alien Ness, born Luis Martinez, a member of the Mighty Zulu Kingz
Freezes began to evolve in the 1980s as breakers did them successively within a battle, and have been an identifying calling card. A member of the pioneering Rock Steady Crew went by the moniker Mr. Freeze. Today, the South Korean B-boy Hong 10 is known as the inventor of a type of halo freeze (when an upside down breaker maintains contact with the ground via hands and head) named after him.
“Now, the control with these freezes, people can change the form or change the shape so easily and even be on one hand instead of two hands, or having multiple body parts on the ground,” Demierre said.
In Paris, 16 men and 16 women will face off in head-to-head battles, with the B-girl competitions on Aug. 9 and the B-boys on Aug. 10. They’ll be judged on five criteria: vocabulary, technique, execution, originality and musicality.
Much will also ride on breakers’ je ne sais quoi, that certain oomph of charisma and confidence. Sunny Choi, a Queens native who will represent the United States, said she never choreographs her routine, the better to display her individuality.
“It’s how you’re feeling in the moment, whatever’s going on around you, the context of your life, what happened that morning, what you eat for breakfast,” Choi said. “All of that affects the way that you feel that day and how you’re going to dance.”
“Charisma and character is unique. That’s always the X factor.” — Ronnie Abaldonado, a veteran breaker and Paris Olympic commentator
1983 A freeze from B-boy Ken Swift.
