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Two Eves in a Damn Sinful City

So we would go home after class and practice.
Yeah, we were lucky to have each other.


THE DRAGON's Bankolu Alo sat down with Bibian Anibueze and Serena Gordon, this year's Fashion Show directors. They direct by being themselves to the fullest extent, and dragging others along for the ride by encouraging them to do the same. The reciprocal energy needed to be fluid as dancers is exhibited as much in these two dynamos' movements under the bright lights as it is in their effervescent, self-announcing synergy on display whilst being co-directors of Sin CityThe Show runs this week, Thursday 24rd and Friday 25th November, doors at 7pm. Ticket proceeds go to Rays of Sunshine & the Florence Nightingale Hospice charities. They're available at the student shop, SU office, SU bar and online (https://www.sgsu.org.uk/societies/society/fashionshow/).

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To the uninitiated, their routines could look like the chaotic manifestation of too many daydreams fuelled by the booming, drooping tones of the latest trap artistes. However, what lies under the hood, and what was confirmed in conversation with these two impresarios, is their truth. The meticulous cultivation of exuberance into a physical, mutually enjoyable form. What goes into being able to take such pain (and joy) with the details? Serena is quick with her reflection of “Having no other life”, while Bibian is quicker with her development of the idea to “being organised”. Serena nods, adding “being really weirdly OCD about things helps.


Despite undoubted respectively long days full of the medical student ennui, they are full of energy and fizz with an enthusiasm that is impressive if not infectious. So, what does their role as directors involve that makes them so in love with life? “First of all coming up with an idea, telling everyone that idea, and hoping they go along with it.” Bibian offers. All the things no-one knows about. All the planning, all the designing. Well, the promotional things.” Serena buffers. “Organising the whole dancing aspect – which is the Show – and having enough people willing to do it. Then promoting it enough so enough freshers will come. Really all the boring things.”


It sounds like a raw deal. Where’s the silver lining? They’re pretty crystal on what exactly that is. “We still get to dance” Bibian beams. Serena confirms, “That’s all that matters.” The passion is not just for show. On what Fashion Show means to them, Bibian says that it is “Everything. We both love dancing. We wanted to do something to show that we are more.” Serena bookends “And here we are”. Bibian is effortlessly bold in crowning it “the most amazing experience you’ll have at George’s.” Serena's cosign runs deep “Yeah, I cried.” Does the feeling stack up to other shows, other competitions? Bibian is yang “They don’t allow you to get as merry as we do at Fashion Show. We get very merry. We’re very social.” Serena is yin “Maybe a bit too social”. We can judge for ourselves from an intimate distance “at the SU discos”.

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Sitting on the train, on the bus, travelling to placement, headphones in and a song comes on. My head starts bopping automatically and it’s like ‘Ok, this is happening’” Bibian traces. Serena says “Or you’re trying to stay awake during a clinic, so you sing a song to yourself. You keep singing the same song to yourself and then you start to visualise the moves you’d do to it. Then it just happens.” The decision of whether they’d like to dance to a song is a delicate mix of innate quality, patience, artistic foresight and a healthy dollop of “procrastination”.

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Their respective first recalled experiences of dance share a common thread of captivity-turned-freedom, albeit on tangential trajectories. First up, Bibian: “When I was about eight years old, my mum caught me brukking my back. After school, just brukking my back on the corner. Extensive lordosis and kyphosis. She never let me dance again. And so it was, until I became a free woman at university.” Serena thinks back. “I remember my mum dragging me to this classical Indian dance class called Bharatanatyam. I was three years old; at first there was excitement but after four weeks that had turned to torture. ‘I hate this. I want to do Bollywood. This isn’t Bollywood’. Seven years later, I’m still doing Bharatanatyam. I got banned from some classes because apparently I was too sexual.” Bibian offers some 20/20 hindsight to lend weight to Serena’s early tutors’ assertions. “If you’ve ever seen Serena on stage, you can understand that. Her neck moves in inhuman ways. Plus, she gets the Bollywood faces down. Bollywood faces equal sex.” She muses. Undeterred, and through stifled laughter, Serena maintains her innocence. “I was oblivious. I was just doing what the teacher had taught me” she says.

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Trips down memory lane provide a wealth of experiences, good and bad, that both Serena and Bibian will doubtlessly tap into to fuel the genius that goes into putting on the best show. The appraisals seem as dutiful – and warm – as the steps they take on those cold nights in November to enthuse their audiences. Serena recollects “Face-Off in our first year as freshers. George’s is so sick, we just slay so much. To top off the year before, which was awesome, they wanted to win again. They grabbed this guy to choreo who was/is a psycho –“ Bibian softens the assessment, “amazing, but mainly a psycho”. Serena continues “Yeah, I don’t know what happens in [his mind] but bad things. He had to teach us all the finale and you just couldn’t understand what it would look like when you were in the thick of it. All these really random movements where you felt like the most unattractive, awkward person ever. And no one picked it up. They had a week where they tried to teach it to us and we couldn’t pick it up. It was the most difficult thing but when you watch it back, oh my God, it was a sick routine.


Bibian echoes her partner-in-rhythm’s sentiments. “It was a very stressful experience because in his mind he already had the vision of – ok these people do this, these people do that – but he didn’t communicate that to us. So literally, we’d be learning different things and be thinking ‘what is happening?’. Until the last moment – I think it was literally the day before the competition – none of us knew what it looked like. Eventually we saw it and thought, ‘oh, we get it now’. But the stress was still not worth it – until we won. Then it was worth it.” She stresses the lesson in it all in terms of choreography. “You definitely have to look at the bigger picture first; at the same time, we still need to make sure every single person is happy. So I guess we just… We’ve tried to communicate with people as and when ideas happen, so that they all know and all kind of understand our vision for the show. That way, we’re all on the same page and nobody will give us a dance that we’ll think ‘oh no, what’s happened?’. So that’s what we’ve tried to do this year. We don’t have to work that hard in terms of inspiring people; most of our choreographers love dancing, they want to dance and are all amazing at it.

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Though we sit currently in some grey nondescript corner of St. George’s, the potency with which these two bounce off of each other has been unabashedly etched in the air. It’s a mixture that promises to be in full bloom come the first night of their show, and beyond. Against the tireless lights of the sets behind them and the tireless efforts of those pushing them forward, the excitement will be palpable and, if you dare to allow it, contagious.

"the excitement will be palpable and, if you dare to allow it, contagious"

The excitement comes from an honest, amiable place. Bibian and Serena are gushing, yet discernibly frank, in their offer of advice to anyone unsure of getting involved with Fashion Show or Dance Society in the near future:


it’s incredible. When I first started dancing I wasn’t that amazing. I still wouldn’t say that I’m that amazing, but back then, I definitely wasn’t good. Going in every week and instructors whipping me into shape made me the kind of person that people would vote in to be director. Keep going. Initially you might start out and think ‘oh I’m not very good’ or not be very confident but you just need to keep doing it. It’s like every skill really, the more you practice the quicker you become... Perfect.” Bibian reflects.


Serena adds “The Dance Soc committee is really dedicated to making it social. They have tried a lot of things already, have a good following and I hope that continues. They deserve it. They have enough ideas that it could last a whole year and stay really interesting. It’s one of the great societies where people even in their final year will continue to do it. With some societies you reach a peak and then you drop out. With Dance people won’t let it go, they keep going to the end. People come back when they’re working. We have F3 doctors coming back, just to do it. That’s how dedicated they are. You meet such a great range of personalities and it’s something to look forward to. The monotony of placement and lectures is so easily broken up by just a Wednesday dance class.


For the more cynically pragmatic among you, they have one parting sales pitch. Not that they need it. “As well as that, meeting seniors in that kind of environment helps you with your studies. First year medics, biomeds and healthcare scientists you know where to come. We’ll help you win OSCEs


Serena, philosophically, gives the notion some easily palatable millennial packaging. “#wegotnotes”.





A debt of gratitude to JB for their invaluable contribution to the creation of this piece. 

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