Swedish Rapper’s Viral Music Video Shot at Belgian School Goes Global
Last Friday, the quiet Belgian town of Braine-l’Alleud became the unlikely epicenter of a viral cultural earthquake when the music video for Swedish rapper Yung Lean’s latest project, STORM, dropped—and within hours, the internet had traced its origins to the hallowed halls of Collège Cardinal Mercier. The video, a surreal blend of boarding-school chaos and hypnotic choreography, wasn’t just filmed in Europe. it was filmed here, in a place that, until now, most Americans would’ve struggled to pinpoint on a map. But for residents of Portland, Oregon—a city that prides itself on being a magnet for avant-garde art, underground music and the kind of subversive creativity that thrives in the Pacific Northwest’s damp, moss-covered corners—this story isn’t just about a viral video. It’s about what happens when global trends collide with local identity, and how a single piece of art can force a community to confront its own relationship with rebellion, tradition, and the spaces in between.
For those who haven’t seen it yet, STORM is a two-part audiovisual project by GENER8ION, the multidisciplinary duo of French DJ Surkin and director Romain Gavras. The first half, STORM I, is a descent into anarchy, with Yung Lean (real name: Jonatan Leandoer) playing a brutish bully in an all-boys British boarding school—feel Dead Poets Society meets Fight Club, if the latter were directed by someone who’d just mainlined a gallon of espresso. The video’s opening scenes, filmed at Collège Cardinal Mercier, feature Leandoer’s character dismantling public infrastructure, inciting a quasi-fight club, and generally embodying the kind of chaos that makes parents clutch their pearls and teenagers nod in recognition. The second half, STORM II, pivots dramatically: the same schoolboys, now suited up and dancing in unison on the school steps, chanting “Hey!” over a swelling orchestral score while Yung Lean croons, “We stay united through the storm.” The choreography, composed by Damien Jalet, is equal parts mesmerizing and unsettling, a reminder that even the most rigid institutions can be bent into something beautiful—or dangerous—when enough people move in sync.
So why should Portlanders care? Because this isn’t just a music video. It’s a mirror. Portland has long been a city that grapples with its own contradictions: a progressive utopia built on a foundation of displacement, a haven for artists that’s increasingly unaffordable for them, a place where the spirit of rebellion is both celebrated and commodified. The themes in STORM—youthful defiance, institutional critique, the tension between individualism and collective action—are the same ones that have defined Portland’s cultural landscape for decades. And the fact that this video was filmed in a European boarding school doesn’t make it any less relevant. If anything, it’s a reminder that the struggles of young people, whether in Braine-l’Alleud or St. Johns, are universal.
The Boarding School as a Battleground for Identity
Boarding schools have always been a potent symbol in art and literature, a shorthand for the collision of tradition and rebellion. From Harry Potter to The Secret History, these institutions are often portrayed as microcosms of society, where power dynamics are magnified and the rules of engagement are written in stone—until someone decides to break them. In STORM I, Yung Lean’s character does exactly that. He’s not just a bully; he’s a disruptor, a force of nature who refuses to play by the rules. His antics—dismantling a water fountain, turning a classroom into a makeshift fight club—are acts of vandalism, but they’re also acts of creation. He’s not just tearing things down; he’s forcing the other students to see their world differently.

This tension between destruction and creation is something Portlanders know all too well. The city has a long history of protest and civil disobedience, from the 1999 WTO protests to the more recent Black Lives Matter demonstrations. But it’s also a city that’s deeply invested in preserving its own mythology—the idea of Portland as a place where people can live outside the mainstream, where DIY culture thrives, and where the rules of capitalism don’t always apply. The problem, of course, is that this mythology is increasingly at odds with reality. As the city gentrifies and the cost of living skyrockets, the very people who made Portland weird are being pushed out. The question STORM forces us to ask is: What happens when the disruptors turn into the establishment? And what does rebellion look like when the system you’re fighting against is the one that’s supposed to protect you?
For Portland’s youth, this question isn’t theoretical. The city’s public schools have been a battleground for years, with debates over funding, curriculum, and equity dominating local politics. In 2023, the Portland Public Schools district faced a $100 million budget shortfall, leading to cuts in arts programs, extracurriculars, and even basic services like school nurses. For students, this isn’t just about numbers on a spreadsheet; it’s about whether the institutions that are supposed to nurture them are actually equipped to do so. When Yung Lean’s character in STORM smashes a water fountain, it’s easy to write him off as a nihilist. But what if he’s just a kid who’s realized that the system is broken—and that the only way to get anyone to pay attention is to break something?
The Choreography of Collective Action
If STORM I is about the individual’s struggle against the system, STORM II is about what happens when that struggle becomes collective. The second half of the video is a masterclass in contrast: the same boys who were brawling in the hallways are now dancing in unison, their movements precise and hypnotic. The choreography, composed by Damien Jalet, is reminiscent of the reveling dance in the 2025 film The Testament of Ann Lee, a movie that explored similar themes of unity and revolution. But where The Testament of Ann Lee was a slow burn, STORM II is a lightning strike—a sudden, ecstatic burst of energy that feels both spontaneous and meticulously planned.
This idea of collective action resonates deeply in Portland, a city that has long been a hub for grassroots organizing. From the Occupy Wall Street protests to the more recent mutual aid networks that sprang up during the COVID-19 pandemic, Portlanders have a history of coming together in times of crisis. But the city’s relationship with collective action is complicated. On one hand, there’s a strong tradition of community organizing, from the Portland chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America to the myriad of local nonprofits working on issues like housing justice and climate change. There’s a growing sense of disillusionment, particularly among younger residents, who feel that the city’s progressive values are often more performative than substantive.
Take, for example, the city’s response to the homelessness crisis. Portland has one of the highest rates of unsheltered homelessness in the country, and while there have been efforts to address the issue—such as the 2022 voter-approved measure to fund affordable housing—many residents feel that the city’s response has been too slow and too bureaucratic. For young people, this can feel like a betrayal. They’re told that Portland is a place where change is possible, but when they look around, they see a city that’s struggling to live up to its own ideals. STORM II’s call for unity—“We stay united through the storm”—isn’t just a lyric; it’s a challenge. It’s a reminder that collective action only works if people are willing to show up for each other, even when the system is stacked against them.
The Role of Art in Shaping Local Identity
One of the most striking things about STORM is how it blurs the line between art and activism. The video isn’t just a creative expression; it’s a provocation, a call to action disguised as entertainment. This is something that Portland’s art scene has long understood. The city has a rich history of using art as a tool for social change, from the murals of the Portland Street Art Alliance to the performances of the Portland Institute for Contemporary Art (PICA). But in recent years, the city’s art scene has faced its own challenges, from the closure of beloved venues like the Crystal Ballroom to the rising cost of studio space, which has made it increasingly difficult for artists to afford to live and work in the city.
For local artists, STORM is both an inspiration and a warning. On one hand, it’s a reminder of the power of art to challenge the status quo and bring people together. It’s a cautionary tale about what happens when art becomes too commercialized, too detached from the communities it’s supposed to serve. Yung Lean’s performance in STORM is undeniably compelling, but it’s also worth asking: Who is this art for? Is it for the kids in the boarding school, or is it for the global audience that consumes viral content? And what happens when the message gets lost in the noise?
These are questions that Portland’s art community is already grappling with. In 2025, the city launched a new initiative called the Portland Arts Equity Fund, which aims to provide grants and resources to artists from marginalized communities. The goal is to ensure that the city’s art scene reflects the diversity of its population and that artists have the support they need to create work that’s both meaningful and sustainable. But initiatives like this are just the beginning. For Portland to remain a hub for cutting-edge art, it needs to do more than just fund projects; it needs to create an ecosystem where artists can thrive, where their work is valued, and where they can afford to live in the city they’re helping to shape.
What This Means for Portland’s Creative Class
So what does STORM mean for Portland’s creative class? For one, it’s a reminder that the city’s reputation as a haven for artists is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Portland’s weirdness is its selling point—it’s what attracts creative people from all over the world. That same weirdness is under threat, as rising rents and corporate development push out the very people who make the city unique. For local artists, musicians, and filmmakers, STORM is a call to action. It’s a reminder that art doesn’t exist in a vacuum; it’s shaped by the world around it, and it has the power to shape that world in return.

But it’s also a reminder that Portland’s creative community needs to be more than just a collection of individuals. It needs to be a movement. That means supporting local artists, yes, but it also means advocating for policies that make the city more affordable and accessible. It means creating spaces where artists can collaborate and experiment, and where their work can reach a wider audience. And it means recognizing that art isn’t just about self-expression; it’s about community, connection, and change.
The Local Resource Guide: Who You Need to Know in Portland
Given my background in cultural journalism and local advocacy, I know that trends like STORM don’t just happen in a vacuum—they’re shaped by the people and institutions that support them. If you’re a Portlander inspired by this project and wish to get involved in the city’s creative scene, here are three types of local professionals you should know:
- Boutique Arts Consultants
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Portland’s art scene is thriving, but it’s also fragmented. Boutique arts consultants can help bridge the gap between artists and institutions, ensuring that creative projects get the funding, exposure, and support they need. When looking for a consultant, prioritize those with a track record of working with marginalized artists and a deep understanding of the local landscape. Ask for references from past clients, and make sure they’re familiar with the city’s grant programs, such as the Regional Arts & Culture Council (RACC) grants.
- Community Organizers with a Creative Edge
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Portland has a long history of grassroots organizing, but the most effective organizers are those who understand the power of art to mobilize people. Look for organizers who have experience with creative protest, such as those who worked on the Portland Street Art Alliance or the city’s various mutual aid networks. These professionals can help you turn your creative ideas into actionable campaigns, whether it’s a public art project, a community workshop, or a protest that doubles as a performance.
- Affordable Studio Space Providers
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One of the biggest challenges facing Portland’s artists is the lack of affordable studio space. Fortunately, there are organizations in the city that specialize in providing low-cost or subsidized workspaces for creatives. When searching for a studio, look for providers that offer flexible leases, shared spaces, and community-building opportunities. Some of the best options in Portland include ADX Portland, a makerspace that offers shared studios and workshops, and TENpod, a co-working space designed specifically for artists and designers. Make sure to ask about their application process and any eligibility requirements, such as income limits or residency restrictions.
Portland’s creative scene is at a crossroads, and projects like STORM are a reminder of what’s at stake. Whether you’re an artist, an organizer, or just someone who cares about the city’s cultural future, now is the time to get involved. The storm is coming—will you be ready?
Ready to find trusted professionals? Browse our complete directory of top-rated arts and culture experts in the Portland area today.