“It was an organic process” – Frieda on her journey in HipHop

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Late 1990s in Berlin-Kreuzberg: graffiti on the walls, rap blasting from speakers, youth centers full of beats, movement, and connection. This is where Frieda’s journey into the world of breaking begins. “I grew up in Kreuzberg and started listening to hip-hop in the late ’90s,” she says. Back then, names like Kool Savas, Blumentopf, and Die Firma defined the scene. “I went to a lot of jams and hip-hop concerts – that’s where I first saw breaking.

What began with rap and a few graffiti attempts quickly became her way of life. Kreuzberg is diverse, loud, and demanding – the perfect training ground for someone ready to push through. “I was often younger than the others and had to assert myself as a 15- or 16-year-old girl,” Frieda recalls. “I had to show that I wanted to belong, that I was serious about breaking, and wouldn’t just quit.” Those early years shaped her with discipline, focus, and determination. “I learned that I can prove myself anywhere if I stay true to my art.” Whether in Kreuzberg youth centers or later on international stages – Frieda brings her energy with her.

Credit: JNY Photography

No role models, no roadmap – just passion
There was never really a single moment when breaking became her profession. “It was an organic process,” she says. “When I started, there were hardly any career opportunities or role models.” Still, she began teaching early on, battling, traveling, and judging. “I grew up with a single mother in Kreuzberg. Money was always tight. Breaking allowed me to travel and work without having any money.” Later, she studied sports science in Cologne. “Around 2011 or 2012, I realized: I want to do this professionally – maybe not just breaking, but dance in general.” Today, she works as a cultural manager, researcher, choreographer, and judge. “I’ve built a diverse career for myself. I can truly say: I live from and with dance.

A battle in Sweden that changed everything
One of her most defining experiences was a battle in Sweden in 2006 with her crew, Dirty Mamas. “I was injured and couldn’t dance. That’s when I realized how important it is to listen to your body. My body is my capital.” This experience later led her into research and dance theater. “I wanted to know: how can I work with dance without actually dancing myself?” Then came a major milestone: being selected as a judge for the Olympic Games in Paris 2024. “It was huge recognition – not only for my dance expertise but also for my professionalism.” From Kreuzberg to the Olympics: a journey that shows just how far breaking can take you.

Credit: Tina Kratochvil

Discipline, battles, and science
Frieda brings her battle experience to the judge’s table. “I have great respect for every dancer who dares to step onto that stage. As a judge, it’s important to me to evaluate fairly – without personal bias.” Today, she feels fully prepared for any international battle. “Over the years, I’ve built the expertise to do this with confidence.
But what was harder: her first battle or her doctoral thesis? “A thousand percent the doctoral thesis! It’s an incredibly long process, full of research and hard work.

Making cultural heritage visible
Frieda researches breaking and its cultural influences, sharing her knowledge with the community. “Building a bridge between academia and the scene is super important to me,” she says. “I don’t just want to write for other researchers, but for the people in the breaking scene.” She was surprised to discover how many movements in breaking actually originate from other cultures. “Many steps have roots in Afro-diasporic movement cultures – African American, Puerto Rican, Cuban. I wasn’t fully aware of that at first.”
Through @hiphopstudysunday, she shares this knowledge on Instagram. “I want to show that hiphop and breaking are relevant cultures – with their own heritage, values, and dynamics – and make academic research about them accessible.”

Credit: JNY Photography

Frieda on the scene in Morocco
Frieda spent several years living, working, and conducting research in Morocco. “The breaking scene there is young, energetic, and hungry. There are fewer opportunities, but so much drive,” she says. “In Germany, the scene is often calmer, more composed. In Morocco, they leave everything on the dance floor.” With the project Dance Fusion Morocco, which she launched together with the Goethe-Institut Morocco, she aimed to create opportunities for training and exchange. “Many dancers in Morocco are talented but have little access to workshops, further education, or exchanges with international choreographers. With Dance Fusion, we wanted to open up different perspectives on dance.”

Returning to Germany, she brought back three things: energy, calmness, and gratitude. “I learned how privileged we are – with infrastructure, freedom to travel, and resources. And I learned to be more spontaneous. In Morocco, the things you plan last-minute often work out best.”

Dance, pride, crew
My love-hate move? Swipes,” says Frieda. “The move looks easy, but it’s an intense body twist. And afterward, my back always hurts. But it’s just too cool to give up.
When she talks about the HipHop Ball, you can feel her pride. “I’m really happy about the nomination. It’s great recognition that my work as a dancer, researcher, and cultural worker is being seen.” The fact that women in the scene often remain invisible makes the award even more meaningful. “I’m glad to be recognized as a woman. It shows that what I’m working toward also makes sense to others.
And if she freestyles there? “With everyone!” she laughs. “But especially with Nadja and Vartan. Vartan has known me since I started breaking, and Nadja and I shared the stage at Battle of the Year Germany almost 20 years ago. It would just be beautiful to close that circle.

Frieda shows that hip-hop is more than dance – it’s perseverance, knowledge, movement, and identity.
And she’s living proof that breaking isn’t just physical art, but a whole way of life.

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