Competition is a week away. Rehearsal on this Saturday has been moved to Einstein’s spacious dance studio on the third floor. Peró has invited a friend, local flamenco teacher Alisa Bernstein, to critique the group routine and the individual couples’ dances. The dancers are in for an 11-hour day.
“Menea Tu Chapa,” a purposefully “ridiculous” dance, as Bernstein puts it, requires attention. A part toward the end—16 counts in which the dancers aren’t doing much—needs fixing. Bern- stein says she’s looking for “organized disorder,” choreographed moves that look improvised.
“Give some moves, people!” Bernstein shouts. Together, she and the students devise a solution: The girls shake their hips and point flirtatiously toward the boys, clustered in the middle. The boys jump and shake their hips rhythmically until it’s time for them to perform their final “tricks”— lifts, dips and flips—with the girls, moves intended to elicit shrieks from the audience more than points from the judges. The group practices the new choreography half a dozen times.
“I know you guys are tired, but I need to see some energy!” Bernstein yells.
For the next hour, they practice tricks that demand strength, coordination and balance. Bernstein still isn’t satisfied. “You need to come out of the trick at the same time!” she demands, and eventually they do. The group spends the next few hours polishing entrances and exits, a luxury that comes with having the routine’s major choreography done.
Meanwhile, the couples continue to work furiously to finish their dances. The day before, William and Abrianna practiced for an hour on an ending for “Let’s Get Loud,” a Jennifer Lopez hit that comes in the second half of their cha-cha routine.
Finally it’s the Sunday before competition. Manuel and Sonia arrive at Einstein early to revise their salsa with steps that Manuel picked up the night before at Mr. Mambo’s. Zafire, a globe-trotting dance team from the Bronx that Titanes members revere, was conducting a workshop there. As new partners, Manuel and Sonia also spend the morning working on their personal connection.
Then in the final hours of the rehearsal, Manuel practices the bachata with Hlina Mitku, an 18-year-old junior from Ethiopia. Manuel and Hlina joined Titanes the same afternoon, and the rapport they’ve built over three years as dance partners is readily apparent. They want to challenge themselves with a trick—Manuel flipping Hlina—and they practice until they’re exhausted but get it right.
“Remember, the judges are looking for good dancing,” Peró tells them. “They’re not just looking for tricks.”
Competition day arrives on an overcast Monday, and Titanes Salseros has converted Einstein’s first-floor art gallery into a command center. Alumni dancers Johanna Orellana, 21, and Karen Carbajal, 23, are applying hot pink and lavender eye shadow on the girls and setting braids with copious amounts of hair spray.
“What if I mess up and we lose because of me?” asks Krissia Osorio, 16, who’ll partner with Jovan Aquino, 17, in all three group dances today.
“No,” Karen says firmly. “You’ve got to show that you own it, that ‘no one’s better than me.’ ”
