Breaking Free

By Monique Beech

As soon as Luca “Lazylegz” Patuelli begins contorting and twisting his body, a chorus of cheers erupts. To the 300 schoolchildren gathered here at a seniors’ home in Toronto for the Abilities Arts Festival, Patuelli is more than just a celebrity. He’s a role model. Most of the children watched Patuelli steal the hearts of Canadians on the hit show So You Think You Can Dance Canada this past August. The professional dancer, who has competed around the world with breakdancing crews, made it to the top 90 on the show, a first for a contestant with a disability.

Many of the kids in the crowd have disabilities themselves—several use wheelchairs or, like Patuelli, need braces to walk. So, when the breaker comes storming onto the stage at the festival, with crutches on his forearms, and begins to dance to the thumping beats, the 26-yearold Montreal native is doing more than just entertaining them.

Patuelli was born with arthrogryposis multiplex congenita, a muscular disorder that limits motion in the joints. In Patuelli’s case, the disease affected his legs, leaving him unable to walk without crutches and leg braces. Compounding that, at the age of eight, Patuelli was diagnosed with scoliosis, a curvature of the spine. He has undergone 16 surgeries to treat his conditions.

But none of that has stopped him from doing what he loves—dancing. As soon as the hip hop beats course through the conference room, Patuelli propels his body through the air like an acrobat. He lifts himself off the ground in one sweeping super-push-up motion and walks across the room on his hands.

“Now, something I truly live by—it’s my motto,” he shouts to the crowd, taking a break from dancing. “No excuses! No limits! When I say ‘No excuses,’ you guys repeat: ‘No limits."

“No excuses!” Patuelli’s voice boom  across the room.

“No limits!” yell the kids.

“One of the things I want you guys to know is it’s about taking the bad and making it good,” Patuelli says into the microphone. A huge smile spreads across his face. “In life, no matter what situation you’re in, there’s always a way to take the negative and turn it into a positive.”

Patuelli credits his parents, Flavio and Laura, and his older brother, Stephano, for his fighting spirit. When he was born, doctors told the Patuellis that Luca would need a wheelchair. His parents, both immigrants from Italy, ignored the experts and decided to try to strengthen their son’s legs on their own. Patuelli’s father, a marble and granite consultant, and his mother, an artist, would often cart the boy around on a tricycle, his tiny feet tied to the pedals, to get him accustomed to the motion of using his lower limbs.

When he was four years old, Patuelli’s family moved to Bethesda, Maryland, just outside of Washington, D.C. It was there that he had most of his surgeries. Before every procedure, his parents quizzed doctors to ensure that what they were doing was the right thing for their son. They sought out the most up-to-date treatments at the time, including electro-stimulation (small shocks to get muscles moving).

While he was growing up, Patuelli’s parents encouraged him to pursue every activity in which he expressed interest. Skiing, soccer and skateboarding were early favourites. He did most of the sports on his knees, which were fused at a 90-degree angle. Not everyone was so supportive of his efforts at first. “Often there’s a lot of negativity,” he explains while nestled in a chair after his performance at the festival. “People jump to a conclusion. I think doctors, or just people in general, say, ‘There’s no way you can do this.’ But if you don’t try, you never know.”

For a while, Patuelli says, he thought that skateboarding would be his life. He dreamed of being the next Tony Hawk. But at age 15, he had major surgery to straighten his legs. After that, he found it difficult to kneel on his skateboard and do challenging tricks. His feet kept dragging against the asphalt and the vibration of the boards irritated his scars.

When some senior students from his high school introduced him to breakdancing, though, his “lazy legs” turned into an advantage. They were light and easy to lift off the floor for Patuelli, who had upper-body strength to spare. “For me to lift myself up, technically, it’s easier than the average person,” he explains, his baseball cap firmly jammed on his head backward, B-boy style. “My moves are based on strength.”

The young Patuelli kept working on his power dance moves, learning how to spin and lift himself off the ground, with and without crutches. And then, devastation. Patuelli broke his leg badly during his first breakdance competition, and figured that his dancing days were over.

But fate and a move would change his life. His family decided to return to Montreal after Patuelli graduated from high school. His parents hired a personal trainer to build up his strength. He learned how to stand on his own, and even walk a few steps. But he was lonely in Montreal, so Patuelli turned once again to dance— this time as a way to make new friends.

He entered a competition (or breakdancing “battle”) and made it to the finals. He lost, but decided that he would focus entirely on dancing. In 2004, he travelled to Long Beach, California, to represent Canada at the Freestyle Session 8 breakdancing competition. It was at the event that Patuelli met his close friend Michael Prosserman, a.k.a B-boy Piecez.

The two hit it off instantly. Both had a strong interest in helping young people. Prosserman, 24, runs an arts program in Toronto, called UNITY Charity, for innercity youth. The two men have a mutual respect. Prosserman, who performed at the Abilities Arts Festival with Patuelli, says, “There’s no difference between [Luca] and anyone else. He lets you know that. As soon as someone tries to open a door and help him out, he’s always first to say, ‘No, I got it.’ He’s always the person that does it for himself, and I really respect that about him. He’s never complained.”

The rest of the world got the chance to form their opinion of Patuelli when international fame came to him via You- Tube. In 2006, the dancer made a video of himself breaking in the streets and malls of Montreal to help promote a titanium crutch maker who had given him a free pair. The video went viral. Soon, he found himself thrust into the media spotlight, even earning himself guest spots on the Today Show and CBC’s The Hour.

The following year, Patuelli and his four-man, Montreal-based dance crew, Illmatic Styles (now called ILLMASK) made it to the top 35 on America’s Got Talent. Since then, it’s been a constant ride of international breakdance competitions, performing in movies (like Kickin’ it Old Skool with Jamie Kennedy), and dancing at major events, such as the Paralympic Games opening ceremony in Vancouver.

He’s also found time to teach dance classes to students with disabilities in Montreal and give motivational speeches at schools. In August 2010, he took on one of his biggest challenges yet. He walked for one kilometre without the aid of crutches or leg braces at the annual Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita Support Conference in Florida. He plans on doubling his goal at the conference each year. “My dream has always been to walk,” Patuelli says. “Every time I blow the candles or break the wishbone, I always say I want to walk.”

Patuelli also plans to put the marketing degree he earned from Concordia University to use and build a brand around ILL Abilities, the international disabled dance crew he founded.

He has dreams of creating a charitable organization based on the brand, which would raise funds to enable dancers and athletes with disabilities to perform at schools and clubs for a reasonable cost.

For now, he’s going to keep on enjoying being on stage in front of a crowd. Breakdancing is about being the centre of attention…and Patuelli loves it.

While he’s inspiring others, it’s the response of crowds, like the children at the Abilities Arts Festival, that in turn gives him strength. “When I say ‘no excuses, no limits,’ I want to clarify,” he explains. “Yes, there are physical limitations. There are financial limitations, psychological limitations, emotional limitations, but it’s the minute that you create that excuse, saying ‘I can’t do this because...’ when the limitation really gets in the way.” Or, so he’s heard.

For more on Patuelli, check out his website lazylegz.com