Rap, ’80s rock and traditional dance collide

Brittany Taylor stands at the back of the stage, microphone in hand.

She epitomizes the… Brittany Taylor stands at the back of the stage, microphone in hand.

She epitomizes the style of the ’80s, from top to bottom. Her crimped hair and blue eye shadow emphasize the statement made by her bright-lime-green shirt, leopard-print belt and purple, knee-length skirt.

It’s clear from the hushed whispers and darting eyes that the audience at the second annual Multicultural Talent Show on Thursday night doesn’t know what to make of her.

But as the first chords of Madonna’s “Like a Prayer” play in the background, excitement surges and the audience sits up straight to see her more clearly.

She struts to the front of the stage, singing the lyrics to the song and swaying her hips provocatively. But almost as soon as it has begun, the music changes to the slower and sultrier “Black Velvet,” by Alannah Myles.

“Black velvet and that little boy’s smile, black velvet with that slow, Southern style,” Taylor sings, slowly running her hand up her hips and waist and through her hair.

The music stops. Silence.

“Uh, oh,” she says, grabbing her fishnet-stocking-clad leg with her right hand and holding it away from her body.

The next song — this one with a rhythmic rock beat — comes on as she brings her left hand down and strums her leg as if it were a guitar.

“Hit me with your best shot!” she belts out.

The Pat Benatar song proves too much for some of the audience members to hold in their enthusiasm, as they stand up and start clapping.

“Knock me down,” she sings, sliding to her knees. “It’s all in vain. I’ll get right back on my feet again!” she continues, popping back up.

She brings her act to a finish, singing “Hit me with your best shot! Fire awaaayyy!” while swinging her right arm in rapid circles.

The audience jumps to its feet and gives her the first of three standing ovations for the night.

“She just lived everybody’s ’80s karaoke fantasy,” co-host Penny Semaia jokes, as he takes the stage.

Sponsored and organized by the Student Government Board’s Diversity Committee, the show, which came as part of Diversity Week, had 21 different acts of truly diverse talents. Included in the program were various dance forms, a gospel group, a violin player, rap acts, a five-piece band and a spoken-word performance.

After Taylor, dancers listed only as Kadita and Preeti took the stage in flowing floor-length gowns and began performing an Indian-style dance.

At first, the song was slow and sensual, and the dancers moved accordingly, their arms and legs making wide, sweeping gestures. But as the beat quickened, so did their movements. They began to kick and twirl in unison with the music before coming to a halt, and the audience responded with enthusiastic claps.

“That had rhythm, man,” Semaia commented. “I love rhythm.”

Later in the night, Nathan James switched gears by performing a spoken-word act, titled “Reparations.”

“When I get me my reparations from the government, I’m gonna get me a different pair of Nikes for each day of the week,” he rapidly said.

He talked about the gifts he would buy his girlfriend and the hubcaps he would get for his new car.

“So, basically, when I get me my reparations from the government,” he finished, “I’m gonna give it all right back.”

Several acts later, Joy Ike, sister of Peace Ike, who had sung earlier, played the piano and sang a song that she wrote.

As her fingers glided over the piano keys, she crooned, “I am longing for love to open the door to my heart.”

“Come to me, all you are, and I will give you all I am,” she promised.

As Ike left the stage, Myke Reiser, a.k.a. Big Myke, took the stage in blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a black beanie cap pulled low over his forehead.

Big Myke introduced himself, telling the audience he would perform a rap that he wrote called “White Lightning.”

“It’s white lightning. I got you frightened. Sippin’ your food through a straw, takin’ Vicodin,” he started, causing the whole audience to break out in laughter.

“This stuff right here doesn’t come any hotter. My sales’ll mess up even Harry Potter,” he rapped.

While most of his lyrics remained clean, the more crowd-pleasing ones tended to be slightly profane or vulgar, the tamer of those being, “All the ladies wanna sleep with me, ’cause I’m lightning between the sheets.”

Pretty soon, the crowd began to chant, “Yo, yo, yo,” as someone from the audience asked, “Is someone taping this?”

After Big Myke finished his rap, he was greeted with the second standing ovation of the night.

“I got one thing to say,” he announced. “I don’t do weddings, but I do do one-night stands.”

“Eminem who?” co-host Semaia responded. “He’s got nine and a half miles.”

The night finished with a performance by the dance group Yeah.

The three women of the group lay prone on the stage in a line, each one halfway on top of the next. The audience — and the only male judge — stood up to better see the women.

Slow, sensual music began to play, and two men emerged from the sides of the stage. They stood over the women, who were gyrating their hips in time with the music, and begin to undress, loosening their ties and unbuttoning their shirts.

The audience went wild.

Women started screaming, and one man held his cell phone high above the crowd to take a picture.

As the men unbuttoned their white shirts, they revealed form-fitting, black tank tops. By this time, the women had risen, allowing the audience to sit back down, and were thrusting their hips forward.

But the music changed from slow and sensual to fast and titillating. The movements became faster and even sexier, the thrusts more urgent.

But once again, the music changed, this time to Usher’s “Yeah.”

The men emerged from the wings, doing back flips across the stage. The dancing became almost convulsive, arms and legs shaking and lashing out before finally climaxing with the third and final standing ovation of the night.

During a five-minute deliberation, judges Chase Patterson, from the Black Action Society; Joyce Giangarlo, the SGB adviser; and Courtney Richardson, a Pitt alumna, decided that three prizes were not enough for the night’s performances.

Instead, they gave out four prizes, with fourth place going to Taylor, third place going to Joy Ike, second place going to Kadita and Preeti, and first place going to Yeah.

Each performer was given a monetary award of increasing value, with first place receiving $500.

Or, as Semaia exaggerated, enough money to buy half of a textbook. — Editor’s note: Joy Ike is a columnist for The Pitt News.