When Drake dropped "Hotline Bling" on October 26, 2016, I was in my third month of undergrad at the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance, founded and curated by Vice Dean Jodie Gates, and under the artistic direction of choreographer William Forsythe. The technique curriculum required that dancers study hip-hop two to three times per week. This was "groundbreaking" for a conservatoire curriculum; as institutions tend to assign hierarchy to dance forms, viewing hip-hop as extracurricular, dispensable. Vice Dean Gates curated a sensational roster of faculty, whose life work was of exquisite expertise in a variety of forms. The school's mission was to develop young artists' hybridity through the absorption of multiple dance techniques— ultimately, this leveled the playing field across dance forms; in the words of my teacher Jermaine Spivey: "all dance is technique."
It's important for me to paint this image of USC because it was here where I felt and understood flow for the first time, but it's important to acknowledge that the mission behind the school had inevitable imperfections due to the realities of institutionalized racism and implicit biases.
Hip hop class with professors E. Moncell Durden (author, historian, and filmmaker) and d. Sabela grimes (inventor of movement system: Funkamental MediKinetics and choreographer), unearthed flow in my dancing through its improvisatory modality: the cipher. The cipher is a nexus for communication and knowledge exchange. Spatially the cipher creates a circular formation or "rounded crowd," with an opening in the center for individuals to participate one at a time. Occasionally, two people might occupy the space together, allowing for sharing, exchanging, or even battling. The cipher itself flows and transforms, ever attuned to the pulse of the moment and context. Intrinsically, the experience of the cipher informs improvisation as a means of building physical relationships through witnessing.
Historically, the cipher is rich with cultural and interpersonal roots related to the common elements of hip hop: MCing, DJing, Bboying/Bgirling, and graffiti. Through conversation with professor Durden, I learned that the cipher pre-dates hip hop through "Clarence Edward Smith aka 13X, (member of the Nation of Islam and founder of Nation of Gods and Earths/ Five Percent Nation), where they (ciphers) started in the 1960s, even though hip hop and breaking didn't really begin in the Bronx until the early 70s." The lineage of the cipher is both contextually and functionally linked to Smith's philosophy of the Cycle of Knowledge, which emphasizes a model of circular community exchange. In this framework, the circle symbolizes the knowledge of power—the birthplace of the cipher. Notably, "cipher" can also be spelled "cypher"— however, author Michael Muhammad Knight suggests we use "cipher" to "maintain consistency with the spelling in the teachings of 20th century African American religions, such as the Nation of Gods and Earths and the Nation of Islam, from where the term finds its way into hip hop culture." It is important to underscore the cipher's linguistic, cultural, and philosophical weight before entering into my cipher experience with the ever famous rival of Kendrick Lamar.
Drake's lyrics "Ever since I left the city, you" were pounding through my entire body, as it was my turn to enter the cipher for the first time. Everyone was hollering and grooving in the round, dubbing or repeating movements that resonated from previous offerings. At this vibrant moment, my mind in full panic mode asked: "what else can I offer", "what am I actually interested in sharing?" It was daunting being new to this cultural exchange. Suddenly, it all went fuzzy as movement began to bring me into the center of the cipher. The echo of pleasure began to take over and dancing just felt so good. My thoughts apprehended this out-of-body experience of play and curiosity after the physical fact. There was real-time witnessing of my choices, references, and trust in my own movement. Regardless whether my improvisation was "good" or "bad," what brought me to the flow state was the support around me; everyone was with me and seeing me. This memory lives on, embedded within me, ingraining the importance of improvisation and community as a tool to decipher flow.
I have to recognize that my experience of/in the cipher has been solely institutional or in student-run spaces. Regardless of its time or place, the cipher is characterized by an unwavering commitment to witnessing the other. This is the essence of a cipher's function— which ultimately brings visibility to the participants who shape the community. We, the OG33 (as the class of USC Kaufman 2019 was called, short for "Original 33"), experienced this essence in our "Funkamental MediKinetic" cipher sessions with Professor d. Together we communally discovered a witnessing practice which formed an agreed upon, yet unspoken, code. I felt like I could leave the room each session and undoubtedly defend my colleagues because I knew them intrinsically. This code created a bonded atmospheric playground that is still felt to this day.
To be in flow is to recognize your play and know that feeling is also fleeting. We all become hindered at times on the uneven topography of life and it would be inhuman to be in a constant flow-state, but when our physical shell and mental freedom coalesce, we find a synergy that persists. Improvisation is a tool to revive our playful synergy through physical and mental consciousness, which offers itself. It's important for me to note that this state is not exclusive to dancers. Bodies have habits and instincts which dictate our flow, and ultimately our joy. The way our body transmits information is a product of negotiating individual freedom.
Improvising with/in the body, especially in unconventional or meaningful spaces, is a privileged practice to stimulate our flow. This commitment to the practice is vital for both the individual and the longevity of forms through generational sharing. A lot of social dance genres are born from spaces of body to body transmission and teaching. In writer Mark Anthony Neal's essay "A Way Out of No Way" he discusses improvisation, in the context of jazz music, as a mode of social existence and resilience. I believe Neal's perspective on "social improvisation" also translates to the survival and continued developments of hip hop through the cipher. The cipher embodies this idea of communities deciphering ways to assert their identity and agency through collaborative community building.
Flow is an individual practice inside a shared space of generational knowledge.
My first year of hip hop ignited my love for improvisation and provoked flow in my dancing, but I was also searching for my identity inside sixteen years of ballet in my body. I had yet to feel this sense of agency or freedom in ballet and its culture until meeting the choreographer William Forsythe. Forsythe's Improvisational Technologies are the observations and tools of William Forsythe (affectionately known as "Grandpa Bill" during his time at USC) developed to analyze improvisation within the framework of contemporary and neo-classical ballet. The technologies include a series of modalities, movement analyses, and coordinations of the body through tasks of simultaneous actions: mental, verbal, and physical. Learning to verbalize my movement and articulate it was no easy task, yet it imprinted a consciousness of action. As dancers we express through non-verbal communication, so this verbal element was daunting at first (much like entering the cipher). With the ciphers' energy embodied, I was able to approach the Forsythe technologies with play, and the puzzling tasks ignited my intellectual capacity and commitment. This new perspective saw flow sparking through my balletic dialect.
I'd like to paint this image of 19-year-old Madison, a 160 cm, pixie-cut brunette, first-generation-Z ballerina, with a notebook in hand and classmates around me while we would draw grids on the floor out of chalk, exchange phrases, and improvise side by side on different tasks. This was a playground to witness how each dancer handled the tasks through laughter, impeccable accuracy, fuck-it-up brilliantly, and ultimately take the ideas to the next level. I distinctly remember my classmate, Aidan Carberry (half of JA collective) working on a Forsythe-task called matching points and evolving it with such complexity, that all of a sudden his matching points referenced his skillset of tutting (hip-hop style rooted in popping where the hands or fingers value sharp angles), yet he retained codified ballet positions in his feet. It was in these sessions with Forsythe, the knowledge of ciphering, and the OG33, where again community was vital in the witnessing and embodiment of flow.
Hip-hop/Ciphering and Forsythe's Improvisational Technologies began in different locations, times, and contexts, yet their impact on dance spaces have been equally influential for dancers and makers in terms of finding flow. What do these worlds both have in common? The witnessing of improvisation as a tool for carving artistic identity and community building. In spaces of exchange, feeling truly seen cultivates a fearless freedom– a flowing state of trust in both oneself and the collective. I dare us all to ask: "Am I in a space that stimulates play and my joy?" and "is there room for me to be witnessed, challenged and supported?" This shared ethos creates a cultural mirroring between hip hop and Forsythe dancers, where both worlds formed their own unbreakable bond of linguistic understanding and trust— it's actually familial.
"To experience a state of flow is directly connected to the ways in which we move within the intention, as a practice, to connect/give or add on to the atmosphere (field of energy), to activate the spirit of reciprocity by giving and receiving energy, to be actively engaged (not passive [...]) surrendering to ourselves, to the moment… allowing ourselves to black out!" - Professor d. Sabela grimes July 2024
Flow is unlocked through fearless freedom, witnessed by the communities where we choose to share our passions. By prioritizing spaces of body-to-body exchange, creativity, and individuality— the longevity of the practice thrives. Honest research requires constructive reflection– through observation, trial, and error— rather than comparison or judgment. It's through witnessing others and allowing ourselves to be witnessed that we strengthen the lineages of our communities, evolve our practices and ultimately find our flow.
References
Neal, Mark Anthony. "A Way Out of No Way." In The Other Side of Nowhere: Jazz, Improvisation, and Communities in Dialogue, edited by A. S. D. Hall, pp.195-223. Wesleyan University Press, 2004.
Knight, Michael Muhammad. The Five Percenters: Islam, Hip-hop, and the Gods of New York, published by Oneworld Publications in 2007.
People
Aidan Carberry - Choreographer and Dancer (JA Collective)
Clarence Edward Smith - Religious Leader, Nation of Gods and Earths
Sabela grimes - Choreographer and Professor at the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance
Drake - Canadian Rapper and Singer
Moncell Durden - Author, Historian, Filmmaker, and Professor at the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance
Jermaine Spivey - Dancer, Choreographer, and Guest Faculty at the USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance
William Forsythe - Choreographer and Artistic Director of USC Glorya Kaufman School of Dance (2015 - 2020)
Madison Vomastek – a professional contemporary ballet dancer, maker and educator born in Michigan, USA. She graduated from the University of Southern California’s Glorya Kaufman School of Dance and currently works as a dance artist with the Opera Ballet Vlaanderen.
Madison's website: www.madsvo.art