Culture shock/future shock: hip-hop steps off the street. (Young Dancer[R]).

Angie Bunch got her first taste of hip-hop twelve years ago, from watching street dance emerge into clubs and theaters and from taking a new type of dance class--then called cardio funk--that was catching on in L.A. Like other converts, Bunch, a San Diego-based jazz dancer and instructor, wanted to start her own company; she recruited dancers by posting audition flyers in dance studios, gyms, and nightclubs for "San Diego's new hip-hop dance team, Culture Shock." At the time, however, many people weren't sure what hip-hop was. "At that first audition, we had baton twirlers, strippers, people who had no place being there," she said with a hearty laugh.

Despite that rocky start, Bunch founded Culture Shock and its affiliated junior company, Future Shock (for dancers who are 18 and under), which have evolved, like hip-hop itself, into an international dance presence. There are now Culture Shock troupes in San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Atlanta, and Chicago, and three Future Shock groups (in San Francisco, San Diego, and Las Vegas), with more on the way. At press time, a new chapter in Washington, D.C., had found a sponsor, and New York had appointed a new director and begun training dancers. Depending on what city you're in, Bunch said, the choreography may lean more toward flamboyant show jazz (Las Vegas) or break-dance and freestyle (San Diego). Dancers perform mostly to new-school hip-hop hits, as raucous crowds shout out encouragement.

There are international chapters, too, in Canada, Italy, Switzerland, France, England, and Portugal, which held auditions in Porto in May. While European hip-hop isn't as diversified as its American prototype, it's catching on fast. "To us, hip-hop is many styles: break-dancing, pop-locking; intense, ridiculous choreography," Bunch said. "Europe is more pop, because that's what goes over bigger there. But break-dancing in Paris is huge."

Hip-hop's international appeal, in fact, is a main part of the attraction for 15-year-old Future Shock San Diego dancer and former elite gymnast Ariana Berlin. "I like how all different races and cultures come together as one," she said. "It's like a family."

Culture Shock and Future Shock are family minded, certainly--theirs is street dancing minus the perils of the street: Directors monitor lyrics in the music they use for practice and performance, encourage a drug-and violence-free environment, and favor a more fully dressed dress code than music videos do. Original financial backing came from Nike; chapters now rely on parents, who help with transportation and costuming, and corporate sponsors, who often provide practice space.

The dancers of Future Shock are expected to commit themselves for at least a full school year, Culture Shock members for a full year, and both to GPA maintenance and rehearsal and performance time, depending on how many appearances their directors book. "Just like how everyone else has sports, if you really love it, you will put time into it," said Future Shock San Diego dancer Pamela Orbita, 17. "We do ten or eleven shows a year--big or small, we do them." She practices one to two hours per day throughout the week, more before upcoming shows. But as far as Orbita is concerned, juggling school and practice is worth the effort. "It doesn't seem like work," she said. "Being in dance gives you a break--it will take you away from that school mode. It's what I love to do."

Culture Shock is ostensibly a professional company, but performances aren't necessarily paying gigs: Whatever money comes in goes back into costumes, transportation, and general maintenance according to Culture Shock SF Director Kim Sims-Battiste. "You don't do it for the money," she said. "You do it to pass on dance, to be an ambassador."

Despite these less-than-cushy conditions, the appeal for dancers is obvious. Chapters perform often, and not only in theaters: Battiste's dancers have done halftime shows for the Golden State Warriors and the Oakland Raiders; for Run D.M.C. and Third Eye Blind concerts; and for school assemblies, corporate events, and walkathons. Beyond that lies the tantalizing promise of fame: Future Shock members have Culture Shock as a professional model for which they may someday audition. Culture Shock alumnae have gone on to dance in commercials, tours, and videos for major hip-hop and pop music figures: Missy Elliot, Destiny's Child, Nelly Furtado, Sisqo, Pink, Usher, Madonna, and Britney Spears. "All the agents know Culture Shock," said Bunch.

Battiste and Bunch, both classically trained dancers, know how competitive the dance world can be, and they believe that's just another reason that Culture Shock, and hip-hop in general, have become so popular. "It's a really empowering style of dance and it's more accessible," said Bunch. "The music we use is the music of the youth of today. The technique isn't as stringent, and it's easier for more people to become successful than in ballet and jazz."

That doesn't mean it's easy. Practice can run over two hours, as company directors and dancers take turns leading warm-up exercises and introducing new combinations, which are broken down in thirty-two-count increments and gradually pieced back together into one long combination. The pace is fast and the choreography can be tricky, with steps and arm movements often deliberately at odds with each other.

Former freestyle dancer Brien Mo, 17, joined Future Shock Oakland three years ago. He knew he liked to dance, but didn't realize at first how much work he had ahead of him. "It was pretty awkward--I didn't understand eight counts for the first week or two," he said. "In a sense, it was like a new language, but after a while it became natural." He plans to audition for Culture Shock and believes that the organization prepares its dancers like any good school. "In my mind, it brings you in from the ground up," he said. Participation in Future Shock doesn't necessarily guarantee entry into Culture Shock, though: Bunch and the other directors believe in the value of auditions and look for dancers who not only exhibit technical prowess but passion and that nebulous but recognizable quality that Bunch calls "performance ability."

For Orbita, who also plans to audition for Culture Shock and to go pro someday, that means a combination of perseverance and personality. "I know I'm young and it takes a lot of dedication, but I'm willing to put it up for that team," she says. "Everyone has something that helps them express themselves. Being on a team, we get to show who we are, how our talents shine," she says. "When you do that, it opens you up as a person. A dancer doesn't just dance, they perform--you can have all the choreography in the world, but if you don't show you're having fun out onstage, you're not really a dancer."

To find out about Culture and Future Shock groups in your area, call 800/971-8090 or visit www.cultureshockdance.org.

Heather Wisner is an associate editor at Dance Magazine.