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This Issue 11/02/2006

Also in this issue

• Wine of the week
• Driving in circles
• Ego Boost: Ego 911
• It's niiiiiiice
• If you build it, they will gather

It's close to midnight at the Rotunda on 40th and Walnut. On the steps outside, a cypher of about 20 hip-hop heads huddle in close as a ghetto blaster thumps old school loops and two emcees in the middle face-off: "Common nigga, you don't think that's a lie / That's like saying when I spit it I don't spit fly / That's like saying you ain't you and I ain't I / Like this ain't the Gathering it's a street word fight." The crowd goes nuts, leaning back like witnesses of a car wreck to reward the verbal beating. A few campus security guards stand watch over the group, but they seem more interested in the freestyles than concerned about things getting out of hand.

Inside the venue is packed tight, and the crowd of head-bobbing spectators on the floor wraps around four break-dancing mats. Ambush and Fatcat, two local DJs, seamlessly blend "Thriller" into a Spanish flamenco number on turntables. B-boys and b-girls furiously cycle in and out of the circles with sweat-drenched bravado. A wall in the corner covered in cardboard is being tagged by a group of young graffiti artists. At the front of the venue is a stage where Tu Phace, the lead emcee of Subliminal Orphans, grabs a mic and raises a sheet of paper that reads "Open Mic Sign Up - Suckas Need Not Apply" in his hand. "If ya'll put your names on this motherfucker, bring your asses to the stage!" he cries, and a dozen or so men and women heed his call.

As any of the regulars will tell you, it's just like any night at the Gathering, the longest-running hip-hop event in Philadelphia. Organized by volunteers and funded by the Penn Foundation Arts Initiative, The Gathering has offered a place for break-dancers, emcees and graffiti artists to hone their craft of flash since 1997. It's free, open to anyone, and held the last Thursday of every month.

"You can be a 12-year-old white girl dancing out there or you can be a 30-year-old black dude on the mic, and it's just part of the vibe," said Chris Anderson, a senior public relations student at Temple University, and one of three head organizers of the event. While the crowd of 300-plus ranged from ballers to skaters, hustlers to hipsters, only a handful of Penn students meandered through. "You'd think that this event, being right here at Penn, would be dominated by Penn and Drexel kids," said Anderson. "But if you look around, the majority of people are West Philly hip-hop heads."