If you lived through the early 2000s, the phrase “flash mob” might arouse a vague feeling of dread. The seemingly spontaneous gatherings, often involving some kind of performance, began as a cool-kid phenomenon and devolved with disheartening speed into a corporate marketing tool.
By the end of the decade there was a creeping sense, when witnessing a mob or a video of a mob, that something was being sold to you.
Then, several years and several vibe shifts later, came flash Bobs. Like their older cousins, flash Bobs involve fake-impromptu gatherings in public spaces.
But as orchestrated by Bob’s Dance Shop — a group of five performers that its founder Vince Coconato describes as an “immersive dance crew” — the mobs lean silly, colorful and joyfully queer.