Here’s why Newcastle University Dance Club’s show was a fever dream

A few weeks ago, on 13th and 14th of March, I performed in Newcastle University Dance Club’s Annual Show at Northern Stage. I took part last year too and enjoyed the typical experience of show weekend. Naturally, I signed up to perform again this year, and although the general process of rehearsals, dress runs and tech runs leading up to the show was the same… this year show weekend was a bit more unhinged.

Dressing Room Reveal (kind of)

On Thursday 12th, the day before the show, me and my friends turned up for the tech run at Northern Stage. From ballerinas to freestylers, beginner and intermediate to advanced, the multitude of dancers that make up this massively popular club accumulated in the auditorium. It was during this hustle and bustle that I was hit with my first funny encounter this year.

As they went down a list of names, allocating dancers to each dressing room, the numbers in the auditorium gradually lessened, dwindling down to a select few. This remaining group began to look at each other in confusion: there was a slight hesitance in the room, and many of us had been split from our friends. Eventually, the silence was broken, and us excess dancers were informed we’d be changing in the Student Union.

I paused my lunch as I processed the concept – soon to be reality – of having to walk back and forth between the SU to Northern Stage in my black leotard, tights, pink raincoat and umbrella. Just to clarify that’s just before the arches, one of the primary routes for student traffic through Newcastle University’s campus. Not publicly humiliating at all…

Fellow performers will also understand the importance of being aware of where the show is in its running order, to be able to hear your cues and calls, and be side of stage in time for your number. Being in a completely different building whilst the show ran was going to be interesting; I began planning how and when I could attain a crystal ball in the next 24 hours.

Friday Opening Night: The Student Union

Here I was, 24 hours later, with no crystal ball, one amongst many girls in full glam and slicked back hair floating around the SU, whilst other students and the Co-Op employees side-eyed us in confusion as they tried to get on with their work.

We trekked up the steps of the SU, squeezed into the Daniel Wood Room, crowded the toilets and gathered around the mirrors to touch up our hair and makeup. Sorry for the disturbance but the show must go on!

Forgetting My Costume

Although being in the SU wasn’t ideal, I was too distracted by my lack of ballet costume to be irritated. It was less than an hour before showtime, and the top I was going to wear underneath my dress was back on my bed in Jesmond. Before I’d left the house, I had the good intention of double checking I’d packed everything I needed for the performance.

Cleverly though, I’d forgotten to repack this white top that was going to save me – and everyone in the audience – from an embarrassing flash. Luckily, my housemates were coming to that night’s show, and before heading into Northern Stage, came to the door of the SU Co-Op to reunite me with my forgotten top. At least being in the SU came in handy somehow. They were not only my saviours that night, but the audience too. Thank you girls.

The (un)useful WhatsApp groupchat

Of course though, after one stress was squashed there came another. At this point, there was still nothing established or even mentioned about getting us SU dancers onstage at the right time, or even knowing at which point we were at in the running order. Eventually, some girls let the room know they’d help us get to where we needed to be.

They decided with the number of people in the room and to avoid confusion, it would be more efficient for us all to join a WhatsApp groupchat, which they would notify when each dance should get ready and go.

On paper it was a good idea, but it soon became clear that it wasn’t going to work. I don’t know whether it was the signal in the SU, or the amount of girls in the groupchat (which puts in perspective just how many of us were squeezed into that room), but the messages were not sending quickly enough. This meant too many dances were being sent at once, or not at all.

It was all very unclear. People were asking when they were needed, where we were in the running order, and everyone was more confused than when we started out. It was only a small thing but this groupchat added to the chaos that had already been established. Us tap dancers made the executive decision to abandon this groupchat and go across on our own accord. We were there extra early, but at least we got to see more dances from the side of the stage as a bonus.

Getting kicked out of the Students’ Union

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Before leaving for the finale, there were whispers circulating about being kicked out of the SU. Nothing was clarified though, and we all left to finish the show without thinking anything more of it. Upon returning through the cold of the night though, we attempted the door of the Daniel Wood Room, only to find it had been locked. We rotated between ourselves, hopelessly pulling at this stubborn door that wouldn’t budge.

Panic grew and grew as more and more girls gathered on the landing, realising that phones, keys, and other valuable belongings were completely unreachable.

The Cleaning Lady

Now I didn’t want to unjustly assume anything, but throughout the evening I thought I’d seen the cleaning lady side-eyeing us. Quietly huffing and puffing, I could sense that she wasn’t fully happy with our presence in the SU. I mean, I get it, us neither: we were a nuisance and in the way.

Some of the girls took the initiative and enquired to the cleaning lady about how we could gain access to the door. After ignoring us for a few seconds, she bluntly told us we’d have to come back tomorrow. She resumed her focus directly to hoovering the carpet, deciding to completely disregard our desperate pleas.

However as the multitude of girls continued to grow, she suddenly halted her intense hoovering, went through to the Daniel Wood Room and unlocked the door. “You have ten minutes” is all she said as we thanked her and rushed into the room. We gathered our things quickly, fearful of the cleaning lady potentially shutting the door on our belongings… or us.

I know I’m literally writing it now, but you couldn’t have written it. I left the SU that night slightly delusional, laughing with disbelief with my friends, and thinking surely this experience couldn’t get any more bizarre than this.

Cleaning lady marking her territory with hoover

Saturday Matinee and Newcastle University’s Open Day

Oh, but it did. Never underestimate the chaos behind the curtains on show day. As we turned up on campus the following day for our 2pm matinee show, we were greeted with Percy the Lion prancing about between the SU and Northern Stage. To our pleasure, it was a Newcastle University Open Day. We now not only had the eyes of other students on us in our black leotards, tights, pink raincoats and umbrellas, but those of confused prospective students and their parents wandering around campus and the SU.

At this point I was convinced I was in a fever dream. Someone complimented our raincoats though which was nice. It definitely brought more self-awareness to the absurdity of how we all looked in broad daylight though. Humbling, but still, I’ll count my wins.

Taking out an eye on Saturday Night

I’ve already made reference to my brilliant tap costume, but for context, our Advanced Tap Show routine was to Rihanna’s “Umbrella”. Appropriately, we were given umbrellas as props, and had to open them out for the final pose. Typical of the luck I’d been having this year, I was given the dodgy umbrella with no handle – there’s always one.

This also meant that finding the button to open the umbrella was also more of a struggle. As I simultaneously span, cramp-rolled and found the button, I cleverly pointed the umbrella to my face and during Rihanna’s final notes almost took out an eye. At least I went out with a bang.

Goodbye Students’ Union

By the end of the weekend, our patience with the isolation in the Student Unions’ ran dry. Many of us then made the decision to clear off, or move our belongings into actual dressing rooms before the finale. No one was risking the dreaded return of the cleaning lady.

Being in the SU definitely wasn’t ideal, but I’ll admit it added to the experience. To disclaim, this article does not intend to harm or criticise the dance club. The show is always loads of fun, the committee do an amazing job at planning the whole production, and I don’t know what I’d do without my weekly ballet lessons to keep me sane during the academic term. These funny instances this year came by complete chance, and were more entertaining than anything.

I hope this encourages people to join dance club or another student community, as they remain great opportunities which offer exciting experiences and friendships. The bizarre scenarios just piled upon each other in a way which was way too funny to be irritated by. It was definitely a memorable one.