by Luke Mehall

Breakdancing is an art form known to many, but practiced by only a few, especially here in the mountains of Colorado. Yet, somehow in Durango, there is a core community of breakdancers, who keep the torch burning in one of the most acrobatic and challenging styles of dance.

The birth of breakdancing coincided with the birth of hip-hop in New York City, in the 1970s. It is an ever-evolving form of dance, with moves that go by names such as “windmills,” “1990s,” “freezes,” and “headspins” (yes, that means actually spinning on one’s head). Despite the ease with which they pull off these moves, breakdancers (also known as b-boys and b-girls) are highly trained individuals with not only the flexibility of a yogi but the strength and coordination of a gymnast. For them, mastering the moves borders on obsession, with many spending countless hours a day.

“For me, breakdancing is not necessarily something I do, it is something I live,” says Skyhawk Tracey, a longtime Durango b-boy.

Skyhawk grew up listening to hip-hop, and his interest in breakdancing was sparked in high school by his mentor, Renz De Vera. “He was pushing me really hard, even to the point of breaking down and crying,” recalled Skyhawk. “Renz is a radical dancer, and we would work on our moves until they were perfect.”

Eventually, Skyhawk got into performing, and says he found a sense of identity as a b-boy. “Dance is where I fit in, and it is also where I am unique.”

Skyhawk also notes that there is a subtle language to breakdancing and hip-hop culture, and that is how he finds other fellow dancers. “I can pick up on it instantly. Once you put the vibe out there people come into your life. The hip-hop lifestyle is one of give and take.”

After high school, Skyhawk moved to Denver, where he found the scene there to be quite different than Durango. “I found it difficult to connect with other dancers,” he says. “There it is more about status than just dancing. I moved back here because I missed the community. Durango really nurtures my creative side.”

Skyhawk also actively participates in the local Dance Co-Motion, a club based out of Fort Lewis College that puts on a performance at the end of every semester. He loves the thrill of performing and now has begun to teach hip-hop and breakdancing at the Bella Dance Studio.

“I never thought I would teach, and it is a blessing more than a job,” he says.

At Bella, Skyhawk teaches students of all ages, from 6 years old and up. He enjoys helping people discover that, they too, can dance. “Some people say they can’t dance, I don’t believe that,” he explains. “Saying you can’t dance is like saying you can’t cook.”

Skyhawk continues to refine his own dancing, and feels that the world of breakdancing is always expanding. “Hip-hop changes everyday, just look at videos on YouTube,” he says. “As soon as you get good at a certain move, someone else shows a better way to do it.”

Will Munoz is another Durango b-boy. He began breakdancing in the birthplace of hip-hop, New York City, though not on street corners or in subways, but in his Grandmother’s basement.

“It was a tiny basement in Brooklyn, I could touch the ceiling standing up.” Munoz says. “My Grandma thought I was crazy.”

Munoz was inspired by various videos he saw, as well as James Brown, whom he considers the “godfather” of breakdancing. “His footwork was some of the original breakdancing, and many of us still breakdance to his music.”

Eventually Munoz did breakdance on the streets of Brooklyn, but soon after his skills began to develop, he moved to Sante Fe, New Mexico and then here to Durango. He practiced by himself for years here, before ever meeting other breakdancers. One of his favorite spots to dance is the gazebo at Rotary Park, where he eventually met Skyhawk and other dancers. For a while, he taught at Durango Dance, and he also has been involved with Dance Co-Motion.

Munoz practices breakdancing three days a week and also lifts weights and runs to stay in shape. For him, dancing is something he can’t live without. “I’m committed to it, it is my passion.”

Munoz does his best to get to Rotary Park on Monday evenings, where he’s often joined by other dancers, from experts to beginners. For him dancing is a personal activity, and even if he’s dancing alone, he thoroughly enjoys it.

“I like having people around, but I’m fine practicing anywhere, even if it is in my own kitchen,” he says.

One of Munoz’ dance partners is Eliseo “Cheo” Salinas. Originally from Puebla, Mexico, Cheo first saw breakdancers in Mexico City, where his interest was sparked. As a teen-ager he was part of a dance crew called Tajin Turbo.

His interest lay dormant for a decade or so, and then it was re-sparked when he moved to Minneapolis. There he became intensely engaged in the scene, one that he says was very diverse.

“It was a really strong scene, with people coming from all types of races and backgrounds,”Cheo says.

After meeting his girlfriend, Jessica Gellings, who also breakdances, he moved to Durango. The transition has been difficult for his motivation, as he enjoys being immersed in a large breakdancing community. “It’s harder to be motivated here, because there are less dancers,” he laments.

Nevertheless, Cheo still is an avid dancer, with an elaborate dance floor, located on an outdoor porch. He is a generous teacher, and will spend time with anyone who has a spark of interest in breakdancing. It is his passion and his favorite thing to do.

“Breakdancing makes me happy,” Cheo says. “I love music and dancing, when I dance it puts a new, fresh energy in my body.”

Though he eventually plans to return to a larger city, like Minneapolis, Cheo wants to engage the Durango community in breakdancing, and hopes more people will get involved and dance at places like Rotary Park.

“At the gazebo it’s really fun to have people there, even if they just watch. Breakdancing is cool because it can be done anywhere, and it makes you feel young.”