Tag Archives: koreatown

Learn k-pop dance at Dancejoa in Los Angeles

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Dancejoa studio in Koreatown, Los Angeles. SCREAMfmLondon

I’m not even exaggerating when I say that Dancejoa is one of the best things about living in LA. I only wish I had found out about the studio sooner!

It all started when I determinedly decided that I was absolutely going to learn the choreography for G-Dragon and Taeyang’s song “Good Boy.” I did learn it (eventually), but I also learned that dance is perhaps my secret passion in life, and I haven’t quite been the same since. I’ve logged a lot of hours at the studio in the ensuing years, and I like to think I’ve come a long way since I stumbled through my first dance cover video with Dancejoa LA several beats behind everyone else the entire time.


Yireh is an excellent teacher with amazing dancing talent and style. She makes everything look cool and effortless (even when I, myself, am dying and sweating profusely). But most importantly, she is a really effective teacher. Actually, Yireh is one of the best dance teachers I’ve ever had — she breaks everything down so well and teaches so clearly that I never feel confused or left behind even during difficult choreography. The classes are so well-organized and well-run. It’s really a pleasure to attend Dancejoa.

The schedule is also very well thought-out. There are two classes on Tuesdays, two on Thursdays and two on Saturdays. On the weekdays, it’s usually a one-hour girl group dance followed by a one-hour boy group dance. The Saturday classes are a bit longer (one and a half hours) and consist of one k-pop dance and one hip-hop routine.

The songs are broken down and taught in sections spread out over the course of a month so you can learn the entire choreography, which I love!!! You feel so accomplished after learning an entire full-length song. And having four weeks to work on it gives you enough time to digest the lessons and practice at home before coming back to add more.

I also love having so many varied dances to choose from. If you like cutesy Twice dances, they’ve got ’em! If you like super-intricate EXO dances, they’ve got ’em! If you like badass hip-hop dances, they’ve got that too! And if you like it all, you can just come learn everything. The schedule is posted in advance on Facebook.


Last year, Dancejoa moved to a new location. It’s easy to find and has its own (very small) parking lot out back. Some of the classes get quite crowded, so I’d recommend coming early to make sure you can find parking (but what else is new, LA?). There’s also a weird random wall in the middle of the studio that limits the space a lot, but Yireh is great about moving around so everyone can see and splitting big classes into groups so everyone has a good chance to practice.

I really can’t recommend Dancejoa enough. I’ve discovered a love for dance that I didn’t realize I had, and it’s made such a big difference in my life. Thanks, Dancejoa!

Students practicing GD and TOP's "Zutter" choreography at Dancejoa in LA. SCREAMfmLondon

Students practicing GD and T.O.P’s “Zutter” choreography at Dancejoa in LA. SCREAMfmLondon

Dancejoa Dance Studio
3859 W. 6th St., Los Angeles, Calif.
For more information, visit www.dancejoa.com.

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Live: Monthly services of the almighty Opp

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The almighty Opp. SCREAMfmLondon

It was one of those nights I really appreciate living in LA.

I was walking up Western Avenue toward Hollywood after checking out “Hail to the King, Baby,” a Bruce Campbell-themed art show at the Agit Gallery in the heart of Koreatown. I heard I missed Bruce Campbell himself by about 40 minutes, and it was kind of a bummer.

But, as I’m walking, I notice a small crowd is gathered outside of a Korean auto repair shop watching a knee-high stage that is producing a very loud, jangly, disharmonious type of music.

When I peer through the crowd, I discover (to my delight) that I’m watching a puppet show: a marionette clown is using a seesaw to catapult a baby doll into a tin can, and another marionette has a rapidly-inflating balloon for a head. The balloon head finally explodes after moments of suspense, and the audience cheers.

“They do this on the last Saturday of every month. At this street corner,” the girl standing next to me clarifies, pointing around to the Giant Dollar store across the street.

The discordant music becomes hypnotic, and before I know it, I’m settled in to watch the rest of the show, enraptured.

I’ve unknowingly stumbled upon one of the monthly services of the almighty Opp, a “rapidly growing friendship network” that uses a combination of puppetry, live music, clowns and interactive theater spectacle to cure what ails you.

The makeshift stage stands at the corner of Western and Elmwood; it is partially comprised of a red Radio Flyer wagon, a bicycle and two black umbrellas. The craftsmanship is impeccable, though, as is the performance. It is obvious that the almighty Opp has been at this for years and has perfected the art.

Somebody hands me a chocolate cupcake. Off to my right, a couple of people pull up a crushed velvet loveseat on wheels and steady it with a few milk crates. I have no idea where it came from. There is a thunderous pop and an explosion of silver streamers and star-shaped confetti that makes its way clear across the four lanes of adjacent traffic. This is the best.

So far, the masterminds behind the almighty Opp remain a mystery to me. I can hear their voices, I can hear them playing the acoustic guitar, and I can see a couple of disembodied hands whenever they reach around the stage to spray silly string on the crowd. They are sharp-witted and hilarious from behind the curtain, but, finally, they reveal themselves.

Kranko climbs out first — his face is painted white, he is wearing striped socks and arm warmers, he has a bright red clown nose. He tosses me a miniature bottle of bubbles, and then he runs across Elmwood to begin the laborious process of stringing a puppet up between two streetlight poles.

Jeffrey follows — he is wearing a white mask and a mechanics’ jumpsuit. He comes up to each member of the audience individually, hands us a sticker, holds a mirror up for us to pose into as if he’s taking our picture, and then he gives us a hug. He doesn’t smell great, but I’ve never been so excited to wrap my arms around a strange man I came across on the street in the middle of the night.

I am pretty convinced that I witnessed some real magic out there. It was enchanting, fun and immersive. It did seem like the entire audience (some wearing combat boots and homemade patchwork vests, others in full-length gowns and top hats) was a big group of friends. I felt like, for a moment, I was a part of their network. I loved it.

I’m an almighty Opp convert. I’ll see you at next month’s service.