STOMPING THE STREETS OF NEW YORK
By John Yoon
Sitting on the steps of Union Square Park, Jonathan Casseus looks around at Project Hybrid, the dance crew he manages, as they twist and stretch to warm up for practice. Their stage is simple: any surface that is flat and hard. Though most of their performances occur on the intersection of 14th Street and Broadway, the group prefers to practice on the open spaces of Union Square.
The group is all stretched and ready for practice.
An exceptionally large moon fills the stage with a warm glow and provides ample lighting for those who gather to watch. As Casseus introduces his crew, Project Hybrid takes its position behind him as a reggae/hip-hop mix begins to play on the boom box. The show is about to begin.
Sherly “Ling Ling” Lin, the only female member of Project Hybrid, begins the routine by showing off her “flex” and “mutation” skills.
Project Hybrid. (Photo by John Yoon)
“Man, I never seen a girl dancing like that before,” said Manny, a student who just had to stop and watch as he walked by.
“Flex” and “mutation” are terms used to describe a genre of dance in which the dancer twists, turns, and contorts his or her body–most often to hip-hop or reggae music. Most flex and mutation dancers also use a style called krump, a relatively new urban street dance form characterized by open, animated, and highly energetic moves involving the arms and chest.
The audience goes wild as she performs her final move opening the stage for Jason Dunblass, aka J Quality. J Quality, who also is quite skilled at flex and mutation, adds a hint of krump to his style.
Rashaad “Morph” Tate, 20, is up next. Morph is something different. The crowd’s eyes go wide and he shows off his stuff.
“He has rubber bones,” Casseus said.
“How is that even possible?” asks a member of the audience in disbelief as he tries to imitate Morph.
The audience claps madly as Morph steps back making room for Mensa “Substance” Dilligard, also 20. One of the younger members, 19-year-old Noland “Epic” Smith, who also goes by the name of Trey, concludes the routine with his krump. Taking a bow, the dancers sit down to catch their breath as the crowd applauses, clearly wanting more.
The dancers grant the audience’s requests and give an encore routine. The crowd is pleased and the show comes to an end.
Project Hybrid is one of the many dance crews that can be seen performing in the parks and streets of Manhattan. Though from different parts of Brooklyn, such as East Flatbush and Mill Basin, all dancers hail from the borough of Brooklyn not only as dance partners but also as friends.
VIDEO: WATCH PROJECT HYBRID DANCE
Given their young ages, most of the dancers are students. Ling Ling is a student at CUNY John Jay. J Quality is attending Queensboro Community College. Morph is studying business at Kingsborough Community College. Epic is planning to attend City College of Technology. Substance, unlike the others does not go to school. He is working as a manager at a Walgreens in Brooklyn.
With each dancer holding his or her own full-time job or studies, each member of the crew comes out to Manhattan during weekend evenings and other times he or she is available compelled by a passion for dancing and the desire to provide the public with a free show.
Though the fluidness and coordination with which each dancer transitions on to the next is undeniable, it was not always this way. Before Project Hybrid was Project Hybrid, each dancer came with his or her own background. While Substance and Morph were already friends, they were part of a group known as Critical. However, once tensions formed between group members and things began to go downhill, the group was disbanded and a new group Just Us was formed with three members. A month later, fate determined that they should meet Trey and combined practices between Just Us and the now Project Hybrid had been taken into effect.
Named by Rashaad “Morph,” Project Hybrid kicked off.
“We saw that each of us had a different style of dancing but collectively one group one sound……we would become a new breed of dancing,” said Casseus, the manager.
Though Project Hybrid accepts gigs and invitations, much of their dancing occurs in the streets of New York. When asked whether they dance anywhere besides the city, all dancers promptly respond, “New York is our stomping ground.”
Though they made a name for themselves as Project Hybrid, the dance crew out of Brooklyn, taming the vicious concrete jungle, one cannot help but notice the normalcy of the way they like to spend the rest of their spare time.
Mensa likes rapping and playing the guitar. Rashaad enjoys drawing and Trey finds solace in sculpting and swimming yet, like any other teenager, simply loves to play video games.
So what will become of the future of Project Hybrid?
The potential seen in Project Hybrid is limitless. From their flex mutation styles to their krumping, the crew epitomizes the liveliness of New York City. However, it does not just end there. Some members, such as Epic, not only hope to continue dancing but would like to pass the passion on to younger dancers and teach an afterschool program for children with an interest in dancing.
Other members, like Substance, see themselves still stomping the streets in a decade, seeing how far their talents can take them.
Though the performers are presently in the prime of their lives, the many hazards that come with the job force the dancers to be cautious and ensure the dancers to continue to stay in tip top shape.
For Rashaad “Morph,” dancing takes quite a toll on him due to the pressure he is required to place on his body, as he pushes himself to the limit.
Each benefit has a cost. For Project Hybrid, their cost is plainly worth the benefits.
When asked whether or not dancing would be seen as a job or a hobby, Casseus answers “Both a job and a hobby,” and pausing for a second to think, he adds, “but it’s also a way of survival.”