REVIEW | BREAKIN’ CONVENTION 2025: A POWERFUL CELEBRATION OF HIP HOP’S EVOLUTION, UNITY, AND EXPRESSION

Now cel­eb­rat­ing its 22nd year of pion­eer­ing Hip Hop Dance Theatre, Breakin’ Con­ven­tion returned for 2025 to extend their grow­ing leg­acy and con­tin­ue bring­ing the finest movers from around the globe to London. 

As always, the main events on the world fam­ous Sadler’s Wells stage were held up by fam­ily and edu­ca­tion centred activ­it­ies across the long week­end, with all Hip Hop’s ele­ments beau­ti­fully bal­anced to con­tin­ue to inspire old, young, experts and begin­ners to express them­selves through our cul­ture. I was blessed to be able to attend on Sunday 4th May. I entered to the ven­ue filled with friends and fam­ily to the vibes set by my sis Steph Be, as she con­trolled the decks on the foy­er, as the crowds made their way to our seats.

Unity by Belinda Lawley

The show opened with an elec­tric, power­ful piece from a vet­er­an Breakin’ Con­ven­tion col­lab­or­at­or, Unity Dance Com­pany. Des­pite the OG status, the com­pany is known for their work with excep­tion­al young dan­cers, and that is exactly what was delivered to open the show. Address­ing deeply import­ant and unfor­tu­nately increas­ingly rel­ev­ant sub­ject mat­ter in ‘Blade from Young’, the tal­en­ted 11 to 25 year-olds used a pleth­ora of styles, from KRUMP to pop­ping to bal­let – and a whole host of acro­bat­ics – to explore the mind­sets, anger, actions, impact and grief that lead to and from chil­dren killing chil­dren on our roads and school­yards. Using mul­tiple medi­ums includ­ing film along­side the sta­ging, lights and their bod­ies, the piece told a too famil­i­ar story of a small alter­ca­tion lead­ing to a loss of life. Through open­ing mul­tiple timeli­ness to explore pos­sib­il­it­ies and con­sequences, the mes­sage was clear – life is too pre­cious to lose yours or someone’s you love over pride, and walk­ing away is often the bet­ter, if not harder choice. I hope any­one who had been bat­tling with mak­ing such a decision was giv­en what they need by watch­ing this power­ful piece.

Valu­ing life and pro­cessing grief con­tin­ued in the return of Max Rev­ell to the BC Stage. Two years ago I’d seen his solo piece using a suit as his main foil, and this piece had been return too and exten­ded in ‘The Party’. Now with a team of five, includ­ing the bril­liant Jordan JFunk Frank­lin, the same poet­ic style and a col­lec­tion of very styl­ish suits, were used to pro­duce some beau­ti­ful and poignant work. 

There was a strong oth­er­worldly feel to the piece, as floods of orange light, excel­lent use of shad­ow and mas­ter­ful hand­ling of the props and cos­tumes provided expressed the inner work­ings of deal­ing with loss, of someone not being there as they were before, hav­ing to come to terms with this and using what they have left behind to do so. 

The legendary cre­at­or of Breakin’ Con­ven­tion and its ever-present host respon­ded to Revell’s work to take a beau­ti­ful moment to pay trib­ute to two of our recently transitioned fam­ily mem­bers, Thad Bar­on of Itch FM and Law­yer Da Black of Battle Scars. Both are pil­lars of London’s Hip Hop com­munity who provided plat­forms and oppor­tun­it­ies for count­less Hip Hop artists over dec­ades of ded­ic­a­tion to the cul­ture. A won­der­ful moment of noise paid due respect to our broth­ers, who will be sorely missed.

The first half con­tin­ued with two solos, first with KRUMP piece ‘BeZ­arbi’ from Belgium’s Illi Wild, fol­lowed by ‘PAN­OP­TICON’ by Tarant­ism from Greece. The lat­ter is a stun­ning piece I shared the stage in March last year as part of Open Art Surgury, and I got to see up close the ded­ic­a­tion and craft that went into it from this fant­ast­ic mover. Her deep research and unfathom­able flex­ib­il­ity, which drew gasps from the crowd, were used to thrill­ing effect to explore Fou­caul­dian sur­veil­lance and the ten­sion to main­tain and rebel against con­trol. Excel­lent use of light­ing and paint are used to accen­tu­ate her bright red hands against her dark cos­tume, as she wrestles with what it is to be raised in a sur­veil­lance soci­ety that enforces autocolonisation. 

The Ruggeds By Paul Hampartsoumian

The cres­cendo of the first half was anoth­er BC stal­wart, The Ruggeds. Cel­eb­rat­ing 20 years since their ori­gin, the legendary Dutch crew used ‘20yRS’  to pay homage to the many ele­ments that have been developed over this time to make them who and what they are, cent­ral to this being their friend­ship. Beau­ti­ful BTS foot­age from dec­ades of tour­ing showed just how tight knit they are, and how fun and excit­ing their lives togeth­er have been. This was cap­tured beau­ti­fully on the stage, as the Ruggeds did what they did best; immense strength, agil­ity and power moves merged with effort­less cool, impec­cable syn­ergy and intel­li­gent, cre­at­ive storytelling. 

Simeon-Camp­bell by Paul Hampartsoumian

At the inter­val, I made sure to get to the Lili­an Bayliss Theatre to catch ‘SAD­BOI’ by Simeon ‘Kar­din­al’ Camp­bell (presen­ted by BirdGang), and I’m glad I got there. The chaot­ic, vis­cer­al pieces was a deeply mov­ing encap­su­la­tion of the inside of Simeon’s head and life. Using a touch­ing voi­ceover nar­rated in sign lan­guage, which he explained is his first lan­guage as a CODA (Child of Deaf Adults), Simeon and his team pro­duced a per­form­ance about Simeon’s life with ADHD that truly embod­ied what it is like. So many ideas, move­ments, moments bom­barded the stage and audi­ence, (lit­er­ally at times) pulling in dif­fer­ent dir­ec­tions, wrest­ling for your focus. A mix­ture of har­row­ing lows, ecstat­ic highs, para­dox­ic­al acts and learnt cop­ing mech­an­isms really gave form to the line ‘if you aint like me, you won’t get me, you get me’; so much of it hit hard. It was an aston­ish­ing piece of work, which received a deserved stand­ing ovation. 

The second half on the main stage was a brave decision from the Breakin’ Con­ven­tion team. It’s the first time that I remem­ber a whole half of a main event being giv­en to one com­pany, but that was what in store for us as we took our seats. We were treated to Saïdo Lehlouh’s ‘Témoin’, trans­lat­ing as ‘Wit­ness’, a 1 hour 10 minute epic. Mir­ror­ing some aspects of the open­ing piece from Unity, the per­form­ance was giv­en by a huge team of movers and used a sim­il­arly broad range of styles. One dif­fer­ence though was how refined and accur­ate the move­ments were; even to my rel­at­ively untrained eye, you could tell that some of these dan­cers were seasoned. 

Saïdo Lehlouh by Belinda Lawley

One aspect that dis­played this was the intensely slow speed of much of the piece. Long, lan­guid, creep­ing sec­tions would trod on for what felt like ages, whilst dot­ted with­in were rap­id bursts of energy and speed in the form of solos and duos, com­pli­ment­ing, bat­tling, embra­cing, ant­ag­on­ising, were skill­fully off­set by the atmo­spher­ic lum­ber­ing mass off their col­lab­or­at­ors. It nev­er felt like the ele­ments were sep­ar­ate, though, more like snap­shots of indi­vidu­al lives and moments with­in an inter­con­nec­ted whole. The group some­times moved as one, some­times as indi­vidu­als, often a blend of each, giv­ing the feel­ing of a bio­sphere, a liv­ing organ­ism made up of many inde­pend­ent, inter­de­pend­ent parts. As the sequences came and went, the piece felt like I was look­ing at an exper­i­ence which might be rap­id and intense for those exper­i­en­cing it, but the rest of exist­ence car­ries on as nor­mal, seem­ingly unaf­fected. And yet the whole is effected, it just might be too small to see, or could take time for the impact to be felt, or may only be once enough has accumulated. 

Tem­por­al­ity played a key role in the pieces explan­a­tion, and this exis­ted bey­ond the move­ment. The first 30 minutes or so fea­tured a flip of Mobb Deep’s ‘Shook Ones, Part II’, with the stems of it time-stretched, re-pitched and remixed into a monu­ment­al sound­scape. The track had been decon­struc­ted, with each ele­ment of it mov­ing to its own, unique time sig­na­ture, mean­ing the track exis­ted in mul­tiple dif­fer­ent times sim­ul­tan­eously, with only the vivid, har­row­ing hood poetry of the late, grate Prodigy anchor­ing it in its ori­gin­al time sig­na­ture, and even this would repeat, restart, reload. Dif­fer­ent movers were in sync to dif­fer­ent parts, and the effect was engross­ing and entrancing. 

I heard a few people ask “what was that about?”. With so much son­ic space giv­en to chron­icles of “offi­cial Queens­bridge mur­der­ers”, I felt there must be a con­nec­tion to the tri­als of slums and cit­ies and all the lives that play out amongst and on top of each oth­er. I’d be lying if I could tell you def­in­itely what the answer to that ques­tion is, but I’m a strong believ­er that great work doesn’t have to ‘be about’ any­thing spe­cif­ic; inter­pret­a­tion and how it moves indi­vidu­als dif­fer­ently is cent­ral to so many of my favour­ite works.  By the end it did feel like it had gone on a very long time, but I also think that was key to the work, and when I was fully in it, I was nev­er really sure how long any part, or the whole piece had gone on for, and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. 

When it did come, the end was intel­li­gent and apt, as the entity formed by the dan­cers spread and spilled over into the crowd, mak­ing us part of it, with dan­cers hold­ing poses and move­ments at uncom­fort­ably close dis­tances to some audi­ences mem­bers, often accom­pan­ied by equally intense stares. As the lights dropped for the final time and the end was signaled, a lot of the crowd were clearly intensely moved, with some mov­ing to oth­er parts of the theatre to ensure the dan­cers could see and hear just how much they appre­ci­ated their work. It was a cap­tiv­at­ing, absorb­ing piece of art, that I was glad I’d been there to wit­ness, and be part of in some small way. Yet anoth­er tri­umph for Breakin’ Convention’s team. 

 

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Apex Zero

An emcee, beat­maker, film­maker and writer from Lon­don with Gren­adian roots, Apex Zero has spent his life learn­ing and liv­ing Hip Hop cul­ture, using it to inspire and affect change. Based in Beijing for a few years and reg­u­larly tour­ing the globe, Apex is well trav­elled, and uses the les­sons this provides to inform his art and out­look. He is a mem­ber of the Glob­al­Fac­tion digit­al pro­duc­tion house and the inter­na­tion­al Hip Hop col­lect­ive End of the Weak.

About Apex Zero

An emcee, beatmaker, filmmaker and writer from London with Grenadian roots, Apex Zero has spent his life learning and living Hip Hop culture, using it to inspire and affect change. Based in Beijing for a few years and regularly touring the globe, Apex is well travelled, and uses the lessons this provides to inform his art and outlook. He is a member of the GlobalFaction digital production house and the international Hip Hop collective End of the Weak.