It wasn't that I was expecting a mosh pit or a Joey Ramone-type to scream out instructions, but after my first Punk Rock Yoga [1] class I was a little confused. The setting was a candlelit room and the live music was provided by a didjeridoo player. Our instructor — a petite, polite woman in a bandana — had us hold hands and chant.
So what's so punk about it? For starters, it's unconventional, says instructor and founder Kimberlee Jensen Stedl. She takes yoga out of health clubs and into venues like the Vera Project [1] and Re-bar [1], where there aren't any mirrors, but there are stages for live musicians. She invites beginners to show up and give it a shot and says her class busts preconceived notions.
"People think punk is all about being angry, and they think yoga is about being happy and blissful," she says.
Plus, labeling the class as "punk rock" gets new people to try yoga.
"They think, 'that's so weird, I've got to check it out,'" she says. "They get hooked."
In the three years since Stedl started the class, her guest musicians have ranged from acoustic punk rockers to a nine-piece Middle Eastern ensemble. Most are local musicians who are challenged to "make it interesting, but not distracting," she says. That's so we can hear instructions for exercises like alternate nostril breathing, in which she essentially told us to stick our fingers in our noses. I did feel pretty punky at that point.
Stedl provided plenty of support as she showed us other deep breathing exercises and basic yoga poses. By the end of the class I felt more limber and relaxed.
Punk rockers, Stedl says, could definitely use yoga.
"It's good self-care," she says. "There are a lot of vices in the music industry."
Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company
