Metro Mutants Multifaro

Alora

Le Hainaut s'organise contre les tags

L'intercommunale Ipalle et le MET ont signé vendredi une convention portant sur le nettoyage des tags dans la zone territoriale dépendant de Mons. L'opération se fera au prix coûtant.

Vendredi, Paul-Olivier Delannois, président d'IPALLE (intercommunale de propreté publique du Hainaut occidental), et Raoul Dumont, directeur du SPW (service public de Wallonie) pour la région territoriale de Mons, ont signé à Tournai pour une durée de trois ans une convention portant sur le nettoyage des tags et des graffitis sur les installations du MET le long du domaine routier et autoroutier.

D'abord ouvert aux 23 communes du Hainaut occidental, puis à la population, le service "Graffiti" d'Ipalle s'adresse à présent au secteur public via le MET, les districts routiers et autoroutiers ne disposant pas du personnel et du matériel nécessaires pour exécuter ce travail de détagage.

Dans cette convention, le SPW s'engage à payer le coût de l'intervention de détagage et au nettoyage des graffitis au coût horaire de 53 euros, représentant le prix de la main d'oeuvre, auquel s'ajoute le prix coûtant des consommables utilisés (sables, mazout, produits spéciaux...).

"En moyenne, une demi-heure est nécessaire à deux ouvriers pour nettoyer une superficie de 15m2. Une équipe de deux ouvriers peut procéder au détagage d'une superficie de 50 à 70m2 par jour. Tout dépend cependant du support sur lequel le tag a été effectué. Le travail est différent selon que le tag ait été apposé sur une pierre bleue, de la brique, un coffret en polyester ou encore un panneau routier. Nous utilisons des sables extrêmement fins, des lingettes ou encore des produits tels que le Grafiroxy", explique un des ouvriers d'Ipalle chargé de cette opération.

Afin de lutter contre l'incivisme public sur les bâtiments publics, Ipalle a investi il y a trois ans dans l'achat en fonds propres d'un camion totalement équipé. Pas moins de 110.000 euros ont été investis dans l'achat de ce véhicule doté d'une hydro sableuse, d'une station de lavage de haute pression à eau chaude, de deux réservoirs de 1.000 litres et d'un groupe électrogène permettant de travailler en autonomie.

30 jan 2009

Source : www.7sur7.be

Norm

OSHIE

Orpe

A Tropical Tattoo on a Cold Winter's Day

While making a quick pass through Penn Station at lunch, I spotted this sweet tattoo on a guy waiting for his train:


Steph is a student out on Long Island who designs and draws up his tattoos and then has them inked.

The piece featured above was the first one that I spotted on him (he has eight in all), and he was willing to share it here.

Perched on his left bicep, It depicts a tropical setting, with bamboo and a panther, the main element in the tattoo.

This particular design was inked about two years ago by Chris at Tattooing by Richie in Elmont, Long Island.

Previous work from the shop has appeared here.

Thanks to Steph for sharing his self-designed body art with us here on Tattoosday!

Geisha Cutie

CUte li'l geisha girl from Ed Perdomo, whose cartoon-style is just awesome!

The EMC is the Only EMC

I met Eric in Penn Station as I was headed back to work during lunch.

His sole tattoo on his right forearm reads "THE EMC". The EMC refers to his initals, his full name being Eric Manuel Concepcion.

He prefaced his initials with the article "the" so he can set himself apart. It's an manifestation of his individuality.

He wants to have "great significance in life" and has a larger piece in mind to build around this tattoo.

"Only one person can be me," he says, and this exemplifies his conviction that he will be great at being who he is, and that "no one will copy" him.

I've invited Eric to submit more photos as the piece evolves.

The tattoo was inked at Funcity Tattoos in Manhattan. Other work from Funcity has previously appeared here.

Thanks to Eric for sharing his personal tattoo with us here on Tattoosday!

Drue

Isaac Hayes

Irma Rats

A Weird Day

Here’s a new one for you. A straight narrative, speckled with ink references, which eventually resembled a “traditional” Tattoosday post. It certainly takes the cake as one of the most unusual encounters. I’ve significantly edited it down for space considerations.

I've also waited a week (this is back-dated) to see how it would play out.

Today was a gloomy, sleety, cold New York City day and I decided to go out at lunch, despite the rain.

After an unsuccessful circuit through the Chelsea Whole Foods, I hit the Muhlenberg branch of the New York Public Library and pick up a few CDs (The Black Parade is Dead! by My Chemical Romance, Lost Highway by Bon Jovi, and Rock My World by Bret Michaels) and some books What Is This Thing Called Love by inked poet Kim Addonizio,

Sailor Jerry Collins: American Tattoo Master

and Tattoo Nation: Portraits of Celebrity Body Art.

I head back toward work and stop under the overhang outside of Fashion Institute of Technology to take a break from the freezing rain.

I decide to talk to two students who are talking outside, smoking. I introduce myself and explain the blog and one of them is un-inked and has agreed to participate in the Unin(k)itiated survey. I’m about to talk to ask the first question when a guy comes up to us to ask a question.

Here’s where the abridging of the conversation begins.

Initially, he is looking to get directions to the Apple Store on 5^th Avenue. He is visiting from San Francisco and needs to pick up a PC from there. He speaks very fast. He has been a web designer since the early 90’s. He rattles off several websites he has built for various companies. He refers to himself as “Apple Pirate,” and he mentions an Apple tattoo.

My interest is piqued. “You have tattoos?” “Four,” he replies. But he is covered in clothing and is visibly cold in the non-San Francisco weather. I don’t expect him to show me anything. I mention the blog, but he is dismissive. He makes a comment about not having time for websites that are small. I am not offended, though I could take issue with what could be perceived as a sleight. But Tattoosday is still a little baby blog, and I’m a small fish in a big blogospheric ocean, despite the occasional delusion of grandeur.

The conversation is all over the place, with Chris leading most of the discussion. Among the topics: where the nearest bike shop is, how he’s been crashing on the floor at The Hotel Chelsea because he doesn’t have the credit card he used to make the reservation at the W Hotel (he was mugged in Baltimore), the quality of F.I.T. as a school, and why the Baltimore School for the Arts is losing students to F.I.T. Also discussed is the weather, some SF vs. NYC banter, technology, design, and more on tattoos.

We drift back to his ink and he has decided that he will show me one of his pieces. Here is where this starts looking like a normal Tattoosday post. This is the tattoo on Chris’ left elbow:

That’s the Apple Pirate logo.

Chris kept talking and I continued standing with the two F.I.T. students, whose names I never got. My lunch was over and I needed to get back to work. However, both women have my card, and will hopefully contact me so I can finish the story.

They never did. Nor did Martin.

It was a truly bizarre little encounter, one which may still be unfolding in the days and weeks to come.

There was actually more to this post. Chris credited his tattoo to a well-known tattoo artist in another state. The original post discussed this artist, along with his shop, and the fact that I tracked down the artist to verify if this tattoo could be attributed to him. Ultimately, the tattooist has no recollection of the piece or the individual.

Another day in the life of the tattoo blogger!

Lotus Om

Psk

Motif

Five Questions for the Unin(k)itiated: Nate's Hobbesian Dilemma

It was another cold day, so I cut through Penn Station on my way to the bank. It appeared as if it was going to be another tattoo-less sub-30-degree day in the Big City, so I stopped and chatted with a nice couple from Washington D.C. about their lack of tattoos.

So begins another chapter of “Five Questions for the Unin(k)itiated.” Today’s installment was better than the premiere one on the previous day.

Name: Nate

Q: Do you have any tattoos?

A: No

Q: Why not?

A: They’re expensive and I can never decide what to get.

Q: So you have considered getting a tattoo?

A: Yes, off and on for about four to five years.

Q: If yes, what would you have inked, where, and why?

A: Hobbes [The comic strip stuffed tiger from Calvin & Hobbes] on my right shoulder. I love Calvin & Hobbes, and Hobbes is the best comic strip character.

Q: If you could be a tattoo on any famous person, what would you be, on whom would you be, and why?

A: I’d be a Hobbes tattoo on Angelina Jolie’s lower back because she’s hot.

On an interesting side note, check out a photo of Angelina Jolie’s back, for real:

She already has a tiger tattoo there! Is it me, or was Nate’s response, uninformed by what Jolie has inked already, incredibly funny, considering?

Thanks to Nate for chatting with us here on Tattoosday!

Alora

Osama Jeas, Nawas Crew

Trip

Catch

Introducing: The Unin(k)itiated

What’s a tattoo blogger to do?

Or, more specifically, what’s a Northeastern tattoo blogger to do?

Sure, this is a site dedicated to tattoos, but there’s a central character here, as well, which is the city of New York. And whereas there’s a vast array of visible ink from May through September, and occasional sightings in the late Fall and early Spring, December through February are tough times for those of us in colder climates that thrive on the public spotting of a well-crafted, nay, any tattoo.

Just to illustrate my dilemma, since December 24, I have posted 21 items, only 5 of which were tattoos from people I had never met before, and all of them were initially noticed inside a building.

Anticipating this seasonal slow-down, I had been batting around some ideas on how to expand the format of Tattoosday to pique interest during the colder months. One such idea came to fruition today in a segment I will be calling “Five Questions for the Unin(k)itiated.” That is, a series of questions for people who do not have tattoos. And if you think its tough asking strangers about their ink, try asking strangers about their lack thereof.

Astonishingly, the first person I asked was happy to oblige. It was 23 degrees outside when I stopped to talk to a young woman out on Penn Plaza.

So, without further ado, here is the premiere installment of Five Questions for the Unin(k)itiated:

Name: Anna

Q: Do you have any tattoos?

A: No

Q: Why not?

A: I don’t want one.

Q: Have you ever considered getting a tattoo?

A: No

Q: Is there a specific factor that causes you to feel that way? For example, religious, cultural, etc.?

A: It’s a personal preference

[Okay, I’m going to interject something into the discussion here. Right about now, you’re probably thinking, “Gee, Bill, this is kind of boring. Are you sure this is a good idea?” Remember, folks, this was my maiden effort, and this feature may evolve. Plus, one should keep in mind, if Anna did have a tattoo, voila! Instant Tattoosday Post. Just add Curiosity. But I saved the best question for last.]

Q: If you could be a tattoo on any famous person, what would you be, on whom would you be, and why?

A: I’d be on Johnny Depp, because I like him. And I would be a palm tree on his arm, because it represents where I’m from originally, The Phillipines.

Thanks to Anna for humoring me as I questioned her in the frigid January afternoon on Penn Plaza

Do let me know in the Comments section what you think of this piece. Remember, it’s better than nothing!

Naro

TMP Crew

TMP Crew

RISKO

PONK

Gipsy Kings

Aigri

Vingt-deux auteurs présumés de graffitis interpellés à Bruxelles en 2008.

La cellule Tag de la police de Bruxelles-Ixelles a identifié et interpellé 22 auteurs présumés de graffitis en 2008, a indiqué vendredi la police locale. Sept de ces personnes ont été déférées au parquet de Bruxelles. Cinq tagueurs ont été pris en flagrant délit.

Un tagueur présumé interpellé en 2008 est soupçonné d'être l'auteur de tags et graffitis relevés à 326 endroits différents en Région bruxelloise, dont sur la caserne de la police fédérale à Etterbeek. Il est en aveu. Un autre, qui est également passé aux aveux, est soupçonné d'être l'auteur de graffitis trouvés à plus de 80 endroits.

La cellule Tag a par ailleurs surpris en flagrant délit, au mois d'août, cinq jeunes en possession de matériel servant à taguer et qui venaient de réaliser une fresque sur la façade d'un bâtiment.

La cellule Tag a comparé les tags et graffitis photographiés et repris dans 551 dossiers à ceux figurant dans sa "tagothèque" et pour lesquels des auteurs sont déjà attribués. La comparaison a été fructueuse dans 121 cas, indique la police.

Ces nouveaux éléments permettent aux enquêteurs de poursuivre, sur base de suspicions sérieuses, les auteurs présumés, explique la police qui précise que les auteurs de tels faits sont passibles de sanctions pénales ou administratives, et risquent par ailleurs de devoir rembourser les frais de nettoyage. La police de Bruxelles-Ixelles a déjà identifié à partir de sa "tagothèque" des auteurs de tags réalisés en France; à Arras et à Paris.

Source : http://www.infomonde.be

Teras

Greaz

PW

Alora

Unfinished

Psk

Psk

Revolutionary Lessons in De-Feet: A Conversation with Adolfo “Shabba-Doo” Quinones

For most people, the name Adolfo “Shabba-Doo” Quinones is synonymous with the film Breakin’ and its lead character Ozone. But for street dance enthusiasts the world over, Shabba-Doo, 53, is the link between street dance as art and street dance as big business, between the rise of soul dancing and the explosion of b-boying/girling across the world. First as a member of the pioneering dance troupe, the Lockers in the early to late ‘70s. Then as a solo artists, taking his brand of locking to the Broadway stage to major network television to film. In the late 70’s, as a kid growing up in Newark, NJ, I was used to hearing the name Shabba-Doo tagged to any light-skinned cat who could rock a dance floor with unconventional moves. I recently caught up with him to have a conversation about his journey.

Anarchist Graffiti: When and how did you get into locking and street-style dancing, in general?
Shabba-Doo: I started, professionally, circa 1971. It was a sort of happenstance meeting between me and Campbell Lock Jr. (No relation to Don Campbell, who pioneered lock dancing) at what was called the BSU or the Black Student Union at Fullerton College in Fullerton California. I’d just moved out from Chicago. Me, my two sisters and my mom came to stay with my cousin, who was a staff sergeant. And one night, my sister, Fawn, saw there was a dance contest at the BSU and suggested we get into it. So, to be blunt about it, we stole my mother’s car and drove to the dance contest. We took second place and Campbell Lock Jr. took first. He was an original member of the Lockers, and he told us how good of dancers we were. And he brought us on the show Soul Train. Me and my sister became one of the original Soul Train gang. That was the beginning.

Actually, when the Lockers were formed by Toni Basil, as a professional dance troupe, my sister was an early member. Before Toni, the Lockers weren’t formally a dance group by name. It was just by association until Toni—being a choreographer for the Roberta Flack Television Special, produced by Dick Clark—hired my sister, along with eight to ten other (lock) dancers, which included Campbell Lock Jr. and Don Campbell. Afterwards, it was such a smash that Toni realized that she should form a group. That became the Lockers.

What year was this?
It was around 1972. The Campbell Lockers were formed in ’72 as a professional dance troupe. That was Toni’s idea. That wasn’t really Don Campbell’s idea. So—and it must be told—there would be no Lockers, as we know it, and there wouldn’t be a Shabba-Doo, if there wasn’t a Toni Basil.

When did you join the Lockers, and how did you get into the group?
I joined in ’72. When Toni formed the group, I was made a member.

How did you get the name, Shabba-Doo?
I originally had the name Sir Lance-a-Lock, which was giving to me by Campbell Lock Jr. Eventually I would change it because of an inspiration I got from the R&B band Bloodstone. I grew up in a time when bands were playing clubs. There was no such thing as DJs. The only time they would play records was in between the band’s set so they could rest. But you danced to a live band. Well, during Bloodstone’s set, the band would say, “Shabba dabba doo bop! Shabba dabba doo!” So, I thought my name should be Shabba Dabba Doo Bop. There was another gentleman by the name of Scooby-Doo. And Campbell Lock Jr. said to me, “You should call your self Shabba-Doo.” He thought the other name was bit too long, and I agreed.


Most people either don't remember or don't know how huge you and the Lockers became in the mid to late 1970's. How fast was that journey upward, and how did the popularity/success grow?
Well, the popularity was instantaneous. We were literally stars over night. I’ve often been asked in conversations, if the Lockers were starting off today, and they were at the top there popularity, how big were they? What would you compare their success to? And I would say that the group was on the level of any popular boy band (laughs). You probably could say, pound for pound, we were on the level of a New Edition. And, keep in mind, we were doing this without record sales. It was purely on our dancing ability. No hit movies. No television series. Just on dancing ability alone. It was pretty remarkable that we could demand the kind of salaries we were getting.

Also, the kind of marquee value we had with our performances. Opening for Frank Sinatra, Bill Cosby, John Davidson, all at the MGM’s main show room, on title marquee out front. In Las Vegas. You would drive down the main strip and see, on the main marquee—not in the lounge, not in the hallway (laughs), not dancing out front or in the court by the restaurant—that in the main show room you were going to see Dean Martin and the Lockers.

Our first gig, formally as the Lockers or the Campbell Lock Dancers—as we were also called— was The Carol Burnett Show. It just snowballed after that. We blew up like…like…like Jiffy Pop Popcorn (laughs).

When did you leave the Lockers and why?
People started leaving the group to pursue their individual goals. First it happened with Rerun (from the TV show What’s Happening!!) or Fred Berry, who we used to call “Mr. Penguin.” After he left the group, Toni left shortly thereafter to pursue getting a recording contract, which was a dream of hers. She eventually had the hit “Mickey.” I started going back and forth between working with the Lockers and working with Toni as her choreography assistant and starring in her shows. By the time she’d had left the Lockers, I had grown up in the ranks and was now the leader of the group. When I joined the group I was 16, the little guy amongst men. I was the little Michael Jackson of the group. And they were the older guys.

But while working with Toni, I’d learned some valuable skills. And it was Campbell Lock Jr.’s idea. He’d approached Don Campbell and the rest of the guys during rehearsals at my house and said, Shabba-Doo should manage and lead the group. His argument was that I’d been doing all the management work since Toni left. Anyway, this didn’t sit well with Don Campbell. Don and I were polar opposite members of the group, the epitome of old school vs. new school. Don led the group with an iron fist. He wasn’t a nice person, per se. Very intimidating. Very scary guy, especially from a 16-year-old’s perspective. Well, he said he should be leader, and the rest of the group said no, Shabba should. Then one thing lead to another, and he was like, “F---- you and f---- this, and Shabba, you should go form your own f----in group. This is my group.” He said, “You should call them the Shabba-Doos.”

And a light bulb went off. I said, “I think your right.” By then I was like 22 or on the verge being 22. At that time we were rehearsing for The Dick Van Dyke Show. When we did the show, that was our closing moment on a fantastic, almost magical time in my life, and in all of our lives. That was in 1977.

After you left The Lockers, how was your transition into a solo career? What did you do afterwards?
My son, Vashawn, was just born. It was a very trying time for me. Again, I love the Lockers, and I loved the camaraderie of the guys. What we were able to achieve, as a group, was pretty intoxicating. Then, suddenly, to be without them, I found it to be very sobering and not a very pleasant experience as a soloist, initially. I quickly found out that I was just a guy who used to be in an incredible group, as most soloist find out when they leave groups. So I had to reinvent Shabba-Doo. I often thank Don, though a bit facetiously, for encouraging me to form my own group and be my own man.

After I left the group, I became a professional dance contestant. I would go all over the United States or wherever, and dance against who ever for money. So I won a bunch of really high profile championships in Los Angeles and Orange County. By then I had encountered what I considered the sister act to the break dance movement. This was happening with the whole locker, Soul Train thing. And it was in the gay community. I came across it when I was in a dance contest. I had to go up against this kid name Andrew, who was doing a really flamboyant dance called Garbo.

He came in first. I took second. It was the first time I’d ever been beaten in my own club (laughs). And I was like, what is this dance? This guy beat me in full drag and make-up and platform shoes, and he was fearless enough to be in this hardcore, pimp, gang member kind of joint. And you know in the ‘70s folks weren’t really too friendly to gay people. He was brave to come in there. And to flaunt his sexuality…And for these hardcore people to recognize that he could dance. It was testimony to this kid’s ability. Anyway, he told me about the dance. Then he and his friends taught me how to do the dance called Garboing, which eventually became known, the world over, as wacking. Not voguing. Wacking.

I then took this Garbo dance and infused it with locking. And where, in the gay dance community, it was about imitating a famous female—Greta Garbo—or whatever the case may be. My idea, since I grew up watching silent films or older films, was to be like Douglas Fairbanks or Errol Flynn or Zorro. So my style of wacking took a more swashbuckler approach. It’s what you would call debonair or like a player attitude. And that became the Shabba-Doo style. And that’s the style I popularized in films like Breakin’ or in music videos like Lionel Richie’s “All Night Long.”

So now you’d re-established yourself on the dance scene. When did work in the media begin to pick up again?
Once I gained a lot of popularity on the grassroots level, then I received a phone call one night from Kenny Ortega. He was choreographing a show for Bette Midler, and he called me up for the show. Midler was actually on the phone with him. He asked how much I charged, and I quoted him some astronomical price.

I didn’t know who Bette Midler was, and I think she’d just finished filming The Rose He said let me call you back. He called back and said, “She (Midler) wants to know why are you that electrifying that you can ask for that kind of money.” And I said: “You tell that broad (laughs) this and this and that.” So she’s on the phone and she says, “motherfucker, come down then.” I went down to meet her, and I don’t know what she looks like. I’m waiting around and waiting around. Finally, I get impatient. I’m dressed in a full zoot suit. I say I’m about to go. Then Kenny tells me she’s here, and points. And here’s this little white lady sitting there with these big Gazelle-like glasses. I’m not impressed. She slams her book down, stops everybody from doing what they’re doing, and says let’s all see what Shabba-Doo is doing. I dance for her, and she’s like, “that was fantastic. When can we start work?” I say whenever. She asked could I start that day, and I said yes. I rolled up my sleeves and started that day. That show, Bette Midler’s Divine Madness, was my first job as a solo dancer after the Lockers.

Did that lead to other work?
During one of the performances, Brandon Tartikoff, the president of NBC at the time, was in the audience and cast me in their his program called The Big Show, which was skits and performances. Aside from starring on the show, I was in charge of putting together the huge production numbers every week, choreographing them, envisioning them, and starring in them.

The way my name began to get out into the public was from a skit I did when Flip Wilson was a guest. I did a dance/song number with his character Geraldine where she rapped a song called “Do the Shabba-Doo.” Gerladine would ask, “Can I call you Shabba?” And I said, “Doo!”

What did you think when you began to see street-dance, in the form of b-boying and electric boogeying, blowing up in the form of hip-hop in the mid-80s?
Actually, we knew about it a little bit earlier. During my time with the Lockers, we were in New York opening for Frank Sinatra at Carnegie Hall. One night we went out to a club, and we encountered, I felt, the east coast version of the Lockers. But they had their own style. The group was called the Brooklyn Rockers. This was 1974, before the Rock Steady Crew. This crew was doing a style of dance called "applejacking.” It was less ground moves and more footwork and uprocking—what they used to call boyoinging. They would bounce down and touch the ground, do a couple of moves then bounce back up. But they were wearing applejack caps, baggy pants with vests and t-shirts. The whole baggy suit thing.

So here we were with the knickers and the striped socks with a west coast look. And we went head-up against the Brooklyn Rockers. It was a non-threatening, non-malicious kind of one-upsmanship sort of competition that happened in the moment.

Who won?
In my opinion, it was a draw. I didn’t feel like the Lockers beat them or they beat us. I felt we both put it down.

So you weren’t surprised when you saw b-boying blowing up in the 1980’s?
No, I was surprised when I saw b-boying. I wasn’t able to connect the two until later. I mean, again, we encountered these east coast counterparts putting it down. And we didn’t think anything of it. Then some years go by, and now we’re in the ‘80s. And I see this super version of what we saw in ’74. I couldn’t connect the two. It just looked like a whole new dance in the way they were doing it. They were dancing on their heads. I had never seen that before (laughs), spinning on their heads or on their back like a top. That was pretty unique. I couldn’t liken that to anything.

As you know, street dance is all about the battle, and you're recognized as a pioneer. Did you have to battle any young-guns back then?
Before b-boying came about, I came up in a different mindset in the 1970’s. It was a different in Los Angeles during that time than what was to come out of New York later. The mine set in LA, back then, was more about love, peace, and Soul Train. We certainly engaged in friendly competition. But the New York dancers brought a bit more aggressiveness, in terms of anger. That wasn’t prevalent on the Los Angeles side. We weren’t angry like that. We’d actually dance and hug each other. New Yorkers dance and act like they’re hitting each other in the mouth. When LA dancers encountered the first New York invasion, if you will, it was like a bunch of thugs showed up. We were acting like a bunch of Hari Krishnas (laughs), and they were acting like a bunch of gangsters when it came to dancing.


How did you become a part of the movie Breakin’? Did you have any say in pickin' the dancers? Did you have any say in the story?
Well, I’d done the Lionel Richie stuff and the tours and…I actually wasn’t supposed to be in Breakin’. It was, again, a series of happenstances. One was I that I was pegged to do this other movie for New World Pictures called Body Rock. But I was taken off that picture because they wanted a guy the girls would like, a heartthrob—that’s what they told me. So they hired Lorenzo Lamas for the role.

Then my agent told me they needed a choreographer for this new movie at Cannon Films called Breakin’. So I went over there to meet with them about choreographing the movie. And while I was there, I was dressed with a bone earring in my ear—kind of like I was in the movie. And Menahem Golan, one of the producers, looks at me and says, “Uh, can you act?” And I replied, “I’m from Chicago.” Don’t know why I said that, but I did. And he says, “OK, Shabba-Doo, from Chicago. Can you go over to the casting persons office.” So I went over there, and I had the hat on and the whole thing. Got there, smoked a cigarette, and stood there until someone said, “You can start now.” And all I had to say was one line. Some one asked, “Who’s next?” And I said, “Ozone. Street Dancer!” Then it got quiet in the room. Well, after I left, I got about two or three blocks in my car when I got a phone call. (Laughs) It was on one of those big old car phones that look like suit cases. And they told me they wanted me for the part of Ozone.

At that time, I was about 30 years old, and I was gonna play an 18-year-old in the movie (laughs). I guess I looked young for my age.

But for people who knew of Shabba-Doo before the media explosion of b-boying or hip-hop, you were the reason a lot of us, on the east coast, saw the film. As an OG, so to speak, you lent the film credibility.
Yeah, and the producers knew that after the fact. They had to eventually realize that. Recently, I was meeting with the writers—because they’re talking to me about doing a Breakin’ 3—and the writer for the film said to me: “You know how that whole thing came down? Although we thought you had a presence and real leadership qualities for the film, you know we had to ask Ice-T what he thought. We’d actually thought about Ice-T being Ozone.” Then the writer said that Ice-T told them that the role should go to Shabba-Doo. They asked why, and Ice said because he IS that role. And that’s how they gave me the part.

Did you have any say in picking the dancers for the film?
Yeah, of course. After that, I got to pick almost all of them. Ana Sanchez. Pop N’ Taco. Poppin’ Pete. All of these guys were a part of my dance crew at that time.

After Breakin’ you parleyed your dancing career into a pretty hefty career as a choreographer. What were some of the huge tours and videos and shows you worked on or choreographed?
I started touring with everybody. Whodini. The Fat Boys. Lionel Richie. Madonna. I danced for Madonna and choreographed for her world tour and her videos. I also did fashion videos for designers—cutting edge stuff—like Norma Kamali.

What do you think of the 21st Century's version of street-style dancing (locking, b-boying, Electric boogeying, etc.)?
Hmm. Let me see. Well, I’ll first ask you this question: Are you aware that fruits and vegetables, today, lack the nutritional value they had 60 years ago?

Nope, was not aware of that.
It’s due to how messed up the oxygen in the air is, and that air is not oxygenating the soil properly. So while you can go out and eat lots of fruits and vegetables, you’re still going to lack those nutrients. So you’re going to need supplements. And what we’re also doing is “super growing” or trying to feed lots of people in a short amount of time. And not I’m saying this to give a science lesson, but to make a point.

We do have some dancers, today, that are doing some pretty spectacular things. You look and think, wow, look at that guy fly. Or, wow, that guy can do 50 head spins as opposed to the little Puerto Rican guy who could only do three back in the day. The big difference is the guy doing 50 head spins lacks the nutritional value. And that nutritional value can only come with time. We’re not allowing the soil time enough to repair itself, organically. If you have people who are viewing dance steps on YouTube so readily and quickly. What you have is people just copying from one another. Just copying, copying, copying. And we never get a sense of your own neighborhood.

That’s what I talked about earlier. Back then, you had east coast going on and you had the west coast going on. We didn’t know what you guys were doing.You’d seen some of the stuff we were doing because we were on TV, we had Soul Train. But we had time to let it settle and sink in. That’s no longer the case now. Now you got YouTube, which is a big problem. True art needs time to reflect. It needs time for these feelings and thoughts to inculcate themselves in our minds and our bodies. With technology, there’s no way for art to grow properly. Arts needs to be allowed to mature and enrich itself. Life can only be reflected in art if it has time to grow.

So that’s what you have out there: a lot of junk, a lot of cotton candy. And YouTube is the McDonald’s of art and culture. Anybody with a camera can put anything they want on there, and it doesn’t have to be tested.

It’s like break dancing now. You don’t have break dancing. You have break flying. What made it beautiful back then was that they were bringing their experiences and those frustrations from the boroughs to the dance. Not the high flying stuff. It was organic, rich, my-momma’s-whooping-my-ass- I’mma-go-out-in-the-street-and-let-out-this-frustration kind of dancing. All that other stuff, based on tricks and flips, is Olympic dancing.

What stuff are you working on now?
Now I have my House of Shway. Basically, Shway is short for Shabba-Doo’s way. In it is my urban workshop and performance workshop program that I market all over the world.

Nostalgic after "Notorious"....

Just saw Notorious and, besides loving the film, it made me feel crazy nostalgic for more than just Biggie, but that whole era which surrounded his rise and his success. The early to mid-'90s, as a journalist covering the urban explosion, was a funny and exciting time looking back. But I won't bore you with the memories. I just wanted an excuse to throw up this video of my favorite Biggie freestyle.

Nilem

Sugre

Never

Nawas