Dance troupes could teach Bruins some big moves

March Madness. Waaaaaaa! Even with my favorite player, Cedric
Bozeman, out since the beginning of the season, I gotta shout,
“Goooooo Bruins!” UCLA is going to the big dance!

Speaking of which, I did some “big dancing” of my
own this past Saturday night with a classic night on the town with
the crew. Although I am ridiculously sick at dancing, I have never
really “gotten it.”

I’ll be scoping the dance floor in my most metrosexual
shiny shirt and form-fitting jeans, when all of the sudden, the
absurdity of the whole affair hits me. All these people, all the
lights, all the Nelly ““ for what?

If you took a caveman from 10,000 years in the past and an alien
from 10,000 years into the future, what would they say if they
could see us now? Is this what we want representing the American
zeitgeist?

Yet, at the same time, what better embodies the American gospel
of prosperity than this club scene in Studio City on a Saturday
night?

According to John Hopkins Professor Francis Fukuyama, author of
the 1989 essay “The End of History,” capitalist
democracies, as the most stable (not necessarily the
“best”) economic and political systems, are the
endpoint for human societies. History, as in the evolution of
political systems, is over.

American civilization’s achieved such a level of material
comfort that we can have specialized segments of our economy
dedicated to getting people to wear shiny shirts and form-fitting
jeans and moving in time to a syncopated beat. Hence, the dance
club truly is the symbol of the American hegemon. I got to thinking
about the topic after watching a Samahang Modern dance troupe
performance last Friday afternoon when they faced off against the
Rhythm and Groove dance troupe at Wilson Plaza. It was like the
Michael Jackson “Beat It” video. Two roving bands of
urban youth settle a blood feud the only way they can: head-to-head
synchronized dancing.

The combatants were easy to tell apart. Samahang Modern had this
whole brown motif going on in its wardrobe, while Rhythm and Groove
had a “people in the city” feel. Notice that I said
motif, and not uniform. While a motif is a variation on a single
theme, uniforms imply uniformity. And these kids were anything but.
They had a bazooka blast of attitude up the kazoo and an eclectic
wardrobe to match. With a strategically tipped bandana here, a bevy
of zippers there, they rocked my straitlaced Middle America.

And it got me thinking.

I personally know several of the performers away from the stage.
But on stage, I can hardly recognize them. They transform like
Decepticons morphing from regular jet airplane robots into
super-robot robots when they’re waging battle against Optimus
Prime and the Transformers. Take fourth-year microbiology student
Nelson Saldana, for example. When we work at Young Research Library
together, Nelson is soft spoken and shy. On stage, though,
he’s Nelson Mad Dawg Da Pittbull from Pittsburg, Calif.

I almost didn’t recognize him once the music started since
he was wearing his “angry face.” His intensity made me
afraid that he’d punch me in the face if I so much as looked
at him funny. This was definitely missed in his lackluster
shelving.

Samahang co-coordinator Suzette “Suz” Sagisi
explained it to me. “It all comes down to is how the music
literally moves you,” Sagisi said. “Oscar Wilde said
something like be all timid in your ordinary life so you can be
bold and brash in your art.”

“Dancing is a visual art,” said fourth-year Samahang
dancer Jo “Joe” Yatar. “So our dress is a
physical manifestation of our inner-street attitude.” Back to
the NCAA Tournament, the dancers have something to teach about
teamwork.

“It’s all about team,” said Mad Dawg Da
Pittbull. “You can have one superstar in front, but
it’s about how everyone comes together.

“It’s like a hand of individual fingers. All they do
is point. When you bring them together into a fist however, you
have the power to punch somebody in the face if they look at you
funny.” Like Samahang, UCLA basketball is a spunky ragtag,
play-by-their-own-rules group of misfits. With a little street
attitude and a lot of teamwork, they’ll punch the NCAA right
in its fat face.

Hector’s motif is high tops, jeans and a blazer. Email
him at [email protected].