LAST weekend at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland, amid the countless performances that make the Fringe an avant-garde hotbed, a group of break dancers from South Korea presented “Spin Odyssey.” A 70-minute narrative piece loosely based on Homer’s epic, the work transports an Odysseus-like character through time to a hip-hop wonderland, where he learns about the meaning of heroism through break dancing. With its long choreographed phrases and daring acrobatic moves in unison, “Spin Odyssey” is the latest example of how a style many might consider an ’80s leftover, as forgettable as leg warmers, is being transformed into an international art form.
South Korea is at the forefront of the new wave of break-dance, or b-boy, artistry, but dancers from France to China are also incorporating elements of jazz, capoeira, acrobatics and martial arts into longer choreographed works that are intended for a mainstream audience and the legitimacy of a proscenium stage. Though still largely unknown, this new generation has reinvented a movement style that in many ways had been exploited and dismissed.
The basic vocabulary remains the same as it was 25 years ago when b-boying first emerged as a subgenre of hip-hop. Luis Angel Mateo, a historian of the style and one of the dancers who helped originate the form in the Bronx, said these foundational moves were based on what he refers to as rocking, “because a lot of the rock records would have a beat that would come in that the dancers would respond to.” Speaking by phone from Connecticut, Mr. Mateo, who is also known as Trac 2, explained the two basic elements: top rock, or upper-body movement, and floor rock, which consists of footwork like shuffles, kick-outs and intricate steps. A transition, known as a “drop,” sews together the two elements and a typical b-boy phrase ends with what’s called a “freeze.”
“The freeze is almost like an exclamation point,” Mr. Mateo said, “like an ‘Uh,’ a space, a gesture, as if to say, ‘Deal with it.’ It’s a challenge.”
The idea of a challenge, or a battle call, is at the heart of the style — in New York crews like the Zulu Kings, the Crazy Commandos and Salsoul tried to outdo one another at parties — and has actually led to the resurgence of break-dancing overseas.
For just as b-boying was fading here, teenagers in Europe and Asia, who had watched the Rock Steady Crew and other greats on video, started forming their own crews. Battles soon turned into formal competitions, and in 1990 in Germany, Thomas Hergenröther initiated Battle of the Year, a competition that attracts crews from around the world and is now acknowledged as the biggest international b-boy event. The contest, which takes place each October at the Volkswagen Halle in Braunschweig, is the subject of a new documentary, “Planet B-Boy,” which had its premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival this year and is scheduled for release next spring.
Battle of the Year is largely responsible for the trend toward longer, more artful works featuring characters and plot. Before a crew can battle, it must first perform a choreographed piece that is judged in part on innovation and often involves complex choreography in unison and a theme or narrative that expands on the basic rocking moves. Last for one, the South Korean crew behind “Spin Odyssey,” won the competition in 2005 and is known for highly expressive, theatrical dances like the one for a commercial for a construction company. In that commercial, set to traditional Korean music, a dancer slows down the spins and acrobatic jumps to create an almost lyrical piece with arabesques interspersed with head stands.
Last for one was born in the small town of Jeonju, said the crew’s manager, Daniel Jun Kim. “These kids in junior high school were bored, into music videos and exposed to Western culture,” he said by phone from Scotland, adding, “They started off as friends, just imitating what they saw on TV and they fell in love with the art form.”
With their victory at Battle of the Year and with other South Korean crews becoming well known too, b-boying exploded in the country’s popular culture. Now dancers there are treated like pop stars: featured in commercials, on the pages of magazines and in soap operas, and widely acknowledged as a source of national pride.
Mr. Kim, an American citizen who grew up in Los Angeles and moved to Seoul two years ago, said the rebellious roots of b-boying are part of the attraction for South Koreans. “Obviously Korea is very different from inner-city New York, but I think for Korean youth it appeals to a lot of them because Korean culture tends to be very conservative, very strict, and the education system is very stifling,” he said. “Hip-hop and b-boying, for them, represents escape. Here’s this form that’s loud and aggressive and emotional.”
One of the first such pieces in South Korea was “A Ballerina Who Loved a B-Boy,” staged in 2005 by members of different crews. As the title suggests, it followed a ballerina who falls for a b-boy in a record store. She finds herself trying the dance and liking it, but she’s also frightened by it. After the b-boy shows her steps, they end up dancing together.
Another Korean stage work, “Marionette,” performed by the crew ｅxpression, has one dancer manipulating six colleagues in unison to music by Yann Tiersen. Puppetlike poses and mime ｅxpressions link the acrobatic moves. The dancers mirror each other while gliding and springing across the floor, throwing themselves into handstands and spins and occasionally breaking free in solos.
Like the South Korean groups, crews from other nations have turned works from different genres into break-dancing showcases. The German group Renegade Theater presented a b-boy adaptation of “Romeo and Juliet” called “Rumble” at the 2004 Fringe Festival, and in Britain the crew ZooNation created “Into the Hoods,” based on the Stephen Sondheim musical “Into the Woods.” And at the Fringe Festival this year is “Break Out,” billed as “Extreme Dance Comedy” and featuring star Korean b-boys who combine gymnastics with physical and visual comedy.
The director of “Planet B-Boy,” Benson Lee, said he hoped to create a stage version of the film, with b-boying, beat boxing and spoken word: “We really want to make it an educational show. We really believe, and we strive to show in the movie, that hip-hop culture has matured,” he said.
Still, the longer, staged form has yet to take hold in the United States, where battles continue to be the main showcase. The largest competition, Freestyle Session, will take place this year in Los Angeles on Aug. 25 and 26. The contenders will include one of the most admired and recognized American teams, the Knucklehead Zoo, which is known for themed works that seek to make a strong emotional connection to the audience.
Knucklehead Zoo, which formed in 2003, is based in Las Vegas, and its plans include a “street” version of the Cirque du Soleil shows that play there. (The crew continues to perform at N.B.A. halftime shows and elsewhere, while also working on a proposed television show from the producers of “Entourage.”) Las Vegas itself has had an important influence on the crew’s style, said Mike (Murda) Carrasco, 24, a leader of the group. When he choreographs, “I take pieces of a lot of different things,” he said.
“There’s a little jazz, a little capoeira, a little acrobatics. We took a lot of examples from Las Vegas, because there’s so much talent from all over the world that lives in this city.”
He said he chose break dancing over other forms because of the freedom it offered. “B-boying was interesting to me because it’s a young dance,” he said. “With jazz or ballet there’s a lot of restrictions. It has to be done in a certain way and if you’re not doing it that way, you’re not doing it. But with b-boying it takes the best of all dances.”
While the Knucklehead Zoo tries to expand American notions of break dancing, Mr. Lee, the “Planet B-Boy” director, takes heart in the direction international troupes are going. In South Korea, he said, “they see themselves as dancers and b-boying as a form of self-ｅxpression, more than just a battle.”