A Note from Vince:

Growing up as a Black American vernacular dancer in Philadelphia has been such a privilege. I would need an entire book to discuss the history of Black American music and dance in Philadelphia, narrowing in on the subtitles of the various lineages that have given rise to the distinct regional character of Philadelphian Black vernacular dancers. But I don’t have time for a book. I do have a few moments, in an essentially stream of consciousness way, to reflect on my perspective of Philadelphia’s regional uniqueness. In this reflection, I will discuss Locking in Philly, sharing my personal development in an effort to succinctly illuminate just a few key catalysts and contexts that have influenced Philly’s character. Hopefully, sharing my experiences also shines a light on the distinction between communal and industry development. Both are valid; however, my concern is that global practices of American Street Dance lean more towards a monoculture opposed to platforming and celebrating local histories whether in the U.S. or abroad. The inescapable truth is that Street Dance is increasingly thriving as a device for commerce and less as a ritual form (many struggle to make the distinction.) In my analysis, ritual spaces are clubs, parties and households. Commercial spaces are those that platform a commodity. In dance, commodification is most common in concert halls, conventions, competitions and media. 

One critique of contemporary practice and dissemination that I plan  to bring more to the public arena as I enter a stage in life where I am more confident and less concerned with approval from peers and elders is that Black American dance is increasingly examined from a globalist and cosmopolitanist lens. The commercial packaging of ritualistic expression has resulted in a prioritization of a global standard that gives practitioners the sense of being a part of a universal form of expression. This method of engaging a ritual form like Locking, funk dances more broadly,  in a competitive arena, for example, would supposedly be most clear and fair when a well defined standard model is established and the system of evaluation is as close to objective as possible. Most commercial stages where Black Vernacular exist are not able to reconcile regionality or colloquial essence, because their hasn’t been enough of a robust global discourse on such nuances, and furthermore, a form like Locking has been divorced, almost, irrevocably from ritual spaces, i.e. parties, clubs and domestic arenas. 

In many places around the world and for many years since its inception, Locking has sustained as a stage form, or a device used as a commodity. Fortunately, Philadelphia during my formative years, was a hub in which Locking thrived as a club dance. The codes of the club or party in its purest form are very distinct from an entertainment stage or a commercialized battle. When a local group engages and develops in reference to one another more than external sources, a distinct colloquial identity takes form. This sort of dynamic is not unique to Philly. Similar regional uniqueness has arisen wherever a cultural practice like Locking has migrated. 

I won’t dare speak about how the practice of Locking has blossomed abroad. However, I will confidently say that the essence of Locking in Philly has been significantly influenced via communal exchange opposed to institutional or industry based systems of learning and cultivation. However, with MoveMakers, UMA, I Am Phresh, Jule Sole and the myriad of academic programs growing and thriving in Philly, the likelihood of institutional based learning is very high. The only possibility for innovation from a ritualistic standpoint requires divorce, objection and indignance against the academy, history and tradition. The truth is the Hip Hop or Street culture that we’ve considered as counter culture and radical for so many years is currently very far from this. It is institutionally captured and sterilized. The fact that there is talk of teaching the 5 elements of Hip Hop via a college course is clear evidence of the forms' capture. We can liken it to Jazz. Today’s kids in Philly do not go to the Show Boat to cut their teeth like those in the early 1900s  when Jazz was alive as a street vernacular and only Western Classical was in academic schools. Today’s kids have Jazz band in high school, and/or they go to the Clef Club and then likely to Temple University or better (UMiami or MSM, at least more famous people have come out of these programs). In less than 5 years, regarding contemporary Black American Vernacular Street Dance (or hip hop as the universities will likely cal it), we will likely be impressed when we learn that someone has graduated from Julliard’s Hip Hop BA program. So a tangent question with this in mind: how is America’s most culturally innovative group, Black Kids, still stuck to the tit of a captured form of expression?   One positive outcome is that what once was rejected and/or exotified has the potential of being a viable career. I am an example of this.  At the same time, the idealist in me still radiates with “fight the power.”  In the end, values and ideals from a dominant rank of industry leaders have suppressed regional nuance. Ironically, as  Black American Vernacular Dances rise in importance in academia, eventually doctoral dissertations with titles like this will be written, if they haven’t already:  “Texas Breaking in the late 90s and early 2000s, the intersection of Hip Hop Party Dance, Breaking Technique and the  emergence and distinctive rise of HaviKoro Crew).”   While most drink the cool-aid, I can’t help but hallucinate a character in Jordan Peele’s film creeply urging me to “Get Out.” While I am knowingly complicit, I aim to be a double agent and antagonist, calling out what most won’t, even when I am also guilty.  
 
The push and pull between the more Classist vision of Greg Cambellock Jr. and the  “this is how we do it” approach is what gives Philly its unique character. For one, Philly is a place where non-professional old heads have gotten down callin’ Locking the rerun and where folks my age could have been seen with a form and posture resembling sacred elders like  Rennie Harris, Brandon “Peace” Albright, Les Rivera and Clyde Evans. For example, Versatile Dance Crew and X-Men certainly did not Lock like FloMaster who at the time would have been considered a standard icon in the industry. One interpretation of Philly Locking when cats exchanged rounds at the Gathering in the early 2000s could be  unrefined, less classical and less technical, or simply wrong. From a Greg Cambellock Jr. or Tonil Basil standpoint, yes. From a more comprehensive analysis based in performance studies, uncorrupted by the gatekeeping tendencies of industry and nepotistic impulse of OGs,  the interpretation would be that Philly has a colloquial identity in the form of Locking. This realization is critical because it paves the way for a more robust study and celebration of how Black vernacular art has been disseminated and thrived among Black communities resisting capture by academia and industry.

The predominant approach to telling the history of a dance like Locking and teaching the language is to identify who created it and everything else at the surface: Soul Train, Don Campbell and the Original Lockers, derivative groups and the codified technique and aesthetics that have arisen (an easily packable and clear cut representation). But I argue that this is rather one dimensional and not a robust examination of something as young as Locking. Such an approach expedites the forms' petrification and thereby results in the predominant image of a Locker today being some sort of commemorative costume that kids, certainly no current Black kids can relate to. The costuming of Lockers today could be easily compared to that of a LARPER or a Civil War reenactor. Whereas, from the late 90s to early 2000s you’d likely see  Black kids Locking in Philly, getting busy in  long t’s, baggy pants and a Durag. No wonder popping is thriving in its home of LA on a communal level. Word on the street is that the Locking scene in LA is weak. I’d like to see for myself, or folks will chime back in to share their experiences. Makes sense to me if LA’s locking scene is weak. It hasn’t been permitted to evolve with the kids on a communal level, like it did in Philly for so many years. 

Ultimately, in service of prioritizing the development of a historically Black American Vernacular dance to Classical American Form, with strictly codified ranks, the witnessing and celebration of living Black communal practice is repressed and in most cases entirely sacrificed. As Black American dance has become a global commodity and status and money have become high stakes, there has been an increasing presence of control over forms of expression, which is valid when someone is opting for a job or to win a competition. In 2024, there is a need and room for a more balanced study and celebration of historical forms like Locking. As advocates and students of culture, how do we make space for younger generations to blossom and innovate in the communal sphere while honoring the myriad of tendrils of history that extend to the point of their actualization? 

I hope to lead by example, by routinely sharing a viewpoint that reconciles my regionality with standard knowledge and form. My Locking is comprised of the following developmental building blocks, which I will loosely and concisely share:

• Growing up in a home that had episodes of What’s Happening, Soul Train and other Black media that featured Locking. Being around cats who imitated the “Rerun”

 

• In High School meeting dancers from Versatile Crew, with most of my contact with Vince and Dre who locked avidly in their freestyle (in a style that I currently relate to RHPM and particularly Clyde Evans’s knowledge dissemination.) Eventually I ended up crossing paths with the entire crew, including Gate, Lou, Mark and Virgil. They were inspirational and very much represent Philly at its purest. Other dancers like TJ, Dink and Phil Cuttino are other very influential lockers with a Philly essence. But this is only naming a few cats that lock, wrist roll, point, pace and groove with Philly jig, but maybe not good refined enough for Summer Dance Forever or other similar platforms which are great but not foundationally ritualistic; they are corporate arenas. 

 

• In High School, dancing in FloMotion dance company, learning choreography by Lex and Tori who Locked in a way that resembled Rennie Harris’ style. 

 

• Being initiated by Cesa into illadelph Phlave crew, training with and watching dancers like Cesa, Flitz and the rest of our active members of illadelph Phlaeve who were a bboy crew through and through, but dancers got busy in all styles. I was the outlier who wasn’t truly a bboy. During my time in the crew, my contemporaries Brent, Damon and Sunny session independently, trying to figure it all out (all of whom eventually went on paths outside of dance). During this period I often went  to the gathering and club shampoo and witnessed Marcus and Dru OG illadelph Phlaeve, Face Da Phlaeve and The Hood Lockers.

 

• Meeting my most critical mentor in the form of Locking, Moncell Durden, and forming relationships with his other mentees that he taught at Uarts, like Tyger-B,  Dinita and Kyle. Sessions among this group of individuals were defining moments in my formative yeas. 

 

• Having session partners like Jon Bullock of Chosen Dance Company and Bboy Ynot were important arenas of development 

 

• Witnessing Clyde Evan’s Chosen Dance Company and illStyle Peace Productions in the community

 

• Dancing with and witnessing Face Da Phlave, Hood Lockers and these groups’ entire extended community of avid Lockers at the Gathering, Second Sundae, Shampoo and other events was a major influence. 

 

• A period of frequenting the House Dance Conference in New York, gaining exposure to Shockalock, Fire Lock and Lockeroo, all of whom are badass dancers but very different aesthetic and approach compared to Philly dancers. Other New York dancers that made an impact on me were Disco Dave, Adesola and Jazzy J. Dancers like Buddah from Baltimore, Barronhawk and Russel from D.C. also made an impact. I appreciate these Lockers, because similar to Philly, their Locking wasn’t contrived. It was  spontaneous and of the moment. Still the essence and vibe of Philly remained its own. 

 

• In person witnessing Buddha Stretch's approach to Locking, which was also distinct from the Shockalock circle and Philly community. Refreshingly, Stretch’s locking from my interpretation did not represent beholden to a Greg Campellock Jr or Chain Reaction based school of thought. It referenced tradition, while also radiating his personal history. 

 

• Routine watching of Classic Lockers footage via VHS from my mentor Moncell and whatever was available of Europe and Japan via whatever was downloadable from the internet pre 2005 and whatever would eventually become available via Youtube circa 2005.2006. 

The above is a general overview of the building blocks for how I’ve developed my approach as well as a sense of what existed in Philly for the style during my formative years. There is certainly much more to say about all of the various people and experiences mentioned above. I will elaborate on the importance of my relationship with Moncell Durden, who is an extremely important practitioner and scholar of Black American vernacular dance. Along with being a spiritual reference and a primary analogue in my memory that informs my mechanics, Moncell has paved the way for my appreciation of the dichotomy between Black dance in the cultural sphere and in industry. Although he has been an impactful torchbearer of the dance on global platforms, his dedication to the expression of the form in the club and in communal spaces as a foundation has been a major influence on me. Moncell getting busy in the club helped to define shared priorities and interests among my generation. When Moncell lived in Philly the currency was soul, groove, musicality and Black vernacular articulation as much if not more than technical prowess. Similarly, the Hood Lockers during this period stood for the power of spontaneous action in the moment, inside codes/language, and ultimately  call and response for collective ascension. There was no championship nor riches taken as bounty. But there was transmission of knowledge, innovation and the cultivation of a communal essence that nourished each individual spirit. It was Black folk keeping it going within the specific terms and contexts of where they live, Philadelphia. The world stage is of minimal consequence when Philly mugs are funkin’ and sweatin’ on the same floor. 

As the Director of Programming at MoveMakers and UMA, it is my mission to celebrate local histories of Black vernacular dance. While honoring the icons and trajectories that have given rise to the more global standards of American Street Dance, I aim to uncover more of Philly’s vernacular history and to amplify awareness and appreciation for Philly dialect. For anyone who has the privilege of learning Locking from Ricky,  Marcus or Dru at UMA, you are experiencing a cherished Philly relic from the source. You will ultimately develop with a Philly essence to your Locking and notably a Hood Locker swag. Being able to trace the origin of your knowledge and accent is extremely important and empowering, solidifying your place and contribution within a culture and the canon. 

Our contemporary tendencies towards monoculture, particularly with the rise of social media and A.I.)  have made it so that Black American dances like Locking have not reached the level of diversity that they have the capacity for. When we examine something like Blues music historically, we are forced to acknowledge the difference between Delta, Chicago and New York Blues. Unique contexts of each territory brought about distinct characteristics. But each is integral to society. Whether American vernacular dances continue to incubate in Black communities or whether they become more multi-racial/ethnic (which is more likely), our society will benefit from letting inspired sub-communities (likely youth driven) innovate and do what they do unfettered, which often requires an optimal degree of rejection of standard form and care for the authority of elders. Essentially, my hope is that folks that learn in an institution throw all of what they learned away when they go into the social sphere, reserving academic and tradition based students for the spheres that require it most. Or even better, young people should feel inspired to innovate and revolutionize with no care for history at the moment when they are called to give rise to their new collective rituals. There is always time to think historically later in life when the revolution is over. 

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Vince, aka Funky Van-Go, teaches waacking at UMA on Thursdays at 7pm. His motto is 'Slay Yourself!' and he makes sure we get it done every time.


Note From Vince


India and I had a little session after class the other week. I am so thankful for India. She motivates us all to keep growing. And she keeps me honest and respectful of the groove. Sessioning with India catalyzed a flood of memories, bringing me visions of the many key influences that I see and work to embody when I Waack. I am thankful for the communal exchanges that I've had to learn the dance and hope that folks in the UMA community will embark on their own collective journey to discover the many ways that this dance can provide enrichment and joy. As you continue to dance through the years, you'll have a remarkable story to tell that will influence new generations.


My first in person exposures to Waacking something like 20 years ago were fortunate enough to be in the Philly dance community. I later had exposure to dancers in NY. My mentor Moncell Durden would occasionally throw some waacking into his rounds. Montazh Dance Company also featured it in dance pieces here and there. And Dinita Clark of JustSole Dance Theater made a big impact on me, holding down entire rounds in waacking or layering the vocabulary over house. Via Rennie Harris Puremovement, I had the distinct privilege of meeting the great Tyrone Proctor (R.I.P), who traveled the world, but was a Philly Native that grew up not far from me in Olney. He gave me encouragement and inspiration to fully commit to dancing the style. Without his kind and motivating presence, I likely wouldn't have had the confidence to deepen my study of the dance. Before meeting Tyrone, when I'd have the opportunity to be at the House Dance Conference in NY, I'd standby admiring the virtuosity of Brian Green and Princess Lockeroo. Although I didn't have really significant personal engagement with Aus Ninja and Archie Burnett, I'd also admire them getting down in the club, particularly Aus Ninja who incorporated martial arts into his approach. All of these amazing people around me were influences that I referenced in my lab, trying to develop my unique approach to the dance. I am thankful for my formative years in Waacking, piecing things together via communal experiences and cherished in-person encounters at the club. It brings me great joy to be able to share my approach to the dance, supporting waacking to thrive and evolve in Philly. Most of the folks that I've mentioned in this note are actively teaching and performing. Seek them out, learn of their stories and philosophy. Let them influence your path as they have mine.