The Power of Movement

Nature is so beautiful. The trees and shrubs arched and intertwined to provide me with a natural tunnel with
which I was shielded from the harshness of the sun. Each branch and each leaf carefully positioned to
produce an offspring of nature which could be deemed unnatural. I never had the chance to admire the
perfection of my surroundings, due to the busy lifestyle which consumed me; that of the accomplished and
successful. But I’m not complaining. After all, being able to make a career from dancing is pretty amazing,
and really I couldn’t have asked for more. Regardless there’s always something pleasant about escaping the
concerns of everyday life for a few hours to observe the landscape while conversing with my own thoughts
in the familiarity of my hometown.

As I exited the tunnel of greenery and readjusted to the powerful sunlight that had temporarily blinded me, I
made out the two words on the old simple building in front of me. Aqium Theatre. I recognised absolutely
everything. The alternating red and blue vertical panels that made up the front wall of the venue, the subtle
golden hue over the main sign and the slight tilt in the first ‘T’ of the sign from when my friends and I threw
tennis balls at it. Beyond doubt, this is a miniscule and low budget performance theatre compared to the
venues I have performed at, but nonetheless this theatre has a special place in my heart. This was where my
love for hip-hop dancing sparked.
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The production quality of this dance show was amazing! With colourful lighting of radiance that could rival
an aurora and high-fidelity audio as clear as the water of The Maldives, this was beyond doubt the most
professional show to bless our hometown. However, as for the dancing in itself, it really didn't do it for me. I
looked to my right where I saw my father staring in awe at the contemporary dancers on stage. I understood
that he wanted to view this show simply because this is the biggest event to ever happen here, but I was
surprised by my dad's genuine engagement and admiration for the acts. At several points in time, he glanced
over at me to see my reactions. Little did he know, my appearance of an 8 year old on a Christmas morning
wasn’t in response to the dancing but to the sound and lighting. Had I actually been watching the dance acts
I’d have displayed an unamused facial expression duller than the security guards working on this Sunday.

As time waged on and I adapted to the mesmerising lights, I found myself with not much else to do so I
decided to try and focus on the dancing. I tried to see beyond the 360 degree scope of the stage, but the blunt
reality that dancing is just a series of synchronised movements to music kept manifesting in my mind. I’ll
concede that they were skilled to an extent, with physical development of stamina, flexibility and balance,
but so do athletes and you don't see them demonstrating their physical prowess in an enclosed theatre. It just
didn't make sense. As if to further prove my point, the lead dancer on stage was propelled into the air where
she extended and strained every limb in her body to mimic a crescent moon for a split second. You know
what I call that? Gymnastics plus style plus music, which deserved to be on stage as much as I deserved be a
professional boxer with sticks for arms.

As the end of the night caved in, the host generated some hype by exclaiming "Now for the final
performance of the night! The pioneers of new-style hip hop, please give it up for the dynamic duo Blaze N’
Beast!” It was almost as if dancing hadn’t damaged the integrity of theatre enough, and a final killing agent
was needed. Hip hop dancing as known by me, is an aggressive and competitive mess; an offspring of the
streets embraced by the African-Americans of the 70’s. Hip hop doesn’t deserve a place on the stage, it
belongs where it was created and raised. I voiced these opinions to my father only to receive a pretty harsh
response regarding my arrogance and how I should stop complaining and just watch. He clearly didn’t agree
with me.

Andrew Timkov
But my dad was right, as this performance would become the medication I needed to let go of my ignorance
to dance. From the moment the lights dimmed and passive music consumed the theatre I was confused, yet
intrigued. I watched as the duo delivered their powerful isolations and supernatural flexibility and balance in
perfect synchronicity. They were dancing as a sole harmonious being, alternating between routines of
synchronised choreography and free-styled sections where they would complete each other’s moves,
radiating their deep connection with the rest of the audience. They created their own style by keeping the
aggressive powerful moves from the hip hop realm but gave it meaning as they told the story of how they
made it off the streets. The musicality was so dynamic as the strong isolations contrasted with and
accentuated the subtle power of their melodic grace. They were like the dancing embodiment of water; water
crashes and water flows but it is always water. And as the storm came to its end my father noticed my frozen
face and laughed as he pat me on the back, “I told you to stop complaining. We’ll never be able to do or
enjoy something, unless we give it a chance.”

Andrew Timkov