I'm Blue (Da ba dee da ba di)

This summer, most of my Latch work that’s taking place is in the shape of pop-up workshops, one-off, themed, 60 - 90-minute sessions with children/ families I may or may not have met before. There’s no long-term development plan, no time to track progress or improvement. Instead, it’s about the moment, the gathering, the exchange, the feeling. And I absolutely love it.

So what happens in that hour and a half? And more importantly, what do the children take away? What’s the point of it all?

For me, it’s never just about teaching a routine or running through a checklist. I aim to offer a mix, I hope to share something for everyone. There's a saying that when you try to be all things to all people, you risk losing clarity or focus. But I’ve never found that to be true in one-off sessions. If anything, the broader my offer, the more likely it is that each child finds their way in.

I used to call this a failure-free approach, but that doesn’t quite capture it anymore. Because actually, lots does go wrong sometimes! Things don’t always land how I planned but my approach is about staying with it. And for the children, I can’t promise that they won’t fail at making up a move, or freeze shape, or that their body won’t respond to taught moves like other children in the class. However, I’m always rooting for the children, showing them alternative ways to move, to try, to see the world, and to respond to the moment. That’s the point.

The most recent workshop I delivered was Smurf-themed (yes, really), and I actually loved it. (And yes, I did have “I’m Blue (Da Ba Dee)” and Steps’ “Deeper Shade of Blue” stuck in my head the whole time, shout out to all my fellow millennials who now do too!) I was brought in by the brilliant team at Wyeside Arts Centre in Builth Wells, who gave me the theme, and honestly, I do enjoy when that happens. Give me a theme and I’ll dive straight into research mode.

I hadn’t seen the new Smurf movie (turns out most of the kids hadn’t either), but I did watch the trailer, listened to the soundtrack (which is brilliant), and made a big list of what stood out, smallness, blue, toadstools, portals, Papa Smurf, adventure, the real world, the bad guy’s castle, parties, teamwork…

I like themes because they instantly connect us. Even before the workshop begins, there’s a shared language, a shared curiosity. It links us in a way that’s harder to do otherwise. For me, it keeps things fresh. I’m always choreographing, inventing games, building something new around any given theme.

I won’t go into the full breakdown here (happy to share my lesson plan if you’re a dance practitioner or parent/ carer looking dance ideas, just email latch@jemmalouise.org.uk), but here are a few reflections.

I often find myself trying to justify the value of the one-off wonders, the pop-ups. I'm always searching for the right language to explain why they matter, and what it takes to make them meaningful.

This session was meticulously planned, but it wasn’t delivered by the book, because it couldn’t be. And that’s the point. For me, the magic happens in that space between structure and spontaneity. Was it entirely child-led? No. But was it intuitive? Absolutely. It ebbed and flowed in response to the group. I made space for different entry points, different personalities, and different kinds of confidence to show up.

We started with games and warmups that let the children explore the theme at their own pace. We invented our own Smurfs (shoutout to the two girls who chose “Surfing Smurf”, harder to say than you’d think), played freeze games based on different character roles, and travelled through flower portals into different worlds on a rescue mission. At one point, they built castles with their bodies in groups of four. We ended with a joyful party routine to the main Smurf song.

Throughout, I offered plenty of partner options, and you could see the delight and energy that came from those moments of connection. Later, the children created their own short movement phrases using material from the games, and then learned a short choreographed piece. That mix, of guided learning and free exploration, seemed to really land.

What makes a workshop like this successful isn’t how closely it sticks to the plan. It’s about how well it meets the group in front of you, how it adapts, includes, invites, and uplifts. I always hope that every child leaves with at least one moment they’ll remember: a move they nailed, a laugh they shared, a feeling of belonging, or just the thrill of jumping through an imaginary portal.

Why It Matters

Pop-up workshops might be brief, but they’re full of possibility. In just an hour and a half, children can feel seen, energised, and free to be themselves. They might not get the session they expected, but they’ll always get a space rooted in kindness, creativity, and care.

That’s what I hope they take away, that, and maybe a bit of Surfing Smurf swagger.