The overall aim of this fringe-athon (yes, compared to real fringe addicts I'm a mere dilettante) is to get to as many different types of event and varieties of fringes/festivals as I can. There are far too many to choose from sensibly unless one is willing to spend more time carefully plotting and planning a way through all the bumph than I'd ever have the patience to do. Haphazard, random, swayed by hunger, thirst, sair feet and whether I've got change for the bus seem to have dictated my choices the last three weeks. And when I'm with friends I decided it is easier to let them choose because I might see something I'd otherwise avoid.
The Saturday I spent with K fell into a few of these categories and we began at the parliament in what was almost the final event in the Festival of Politics.
Women at the Top: Where next for Women in Politics? Attempted to frame a discussion about women's representation in local councils and parliaments both national and at Westminster. (Yes, I know Wales has an assembly not a parliament).
There is concern that next May the numbers of women MSPs and AMs will drop after the elections in Wales and Scotland. The discussion ranged from why women are not coming forward to stand, why they are not chosen when they do and the frustrating issue of a confrontational style in parliaments and parties.
It was noted that at times women had tried to form alliances or to be supportive of other elected members across party lines. This had worked for a while in Holyrood, but, according to K who is up on all things Labour, there was no trust between the women from rival parties. Anyone with the slightest awareness of the ludicrous interactions between the 2 largest parties will not be surprised to hear that.
A newly elected (to Westminster) Lib-Dem MP shared her dismal experiences of being barracked during her first speech in the Commons. She was quite clear that this did not happen with the same sexist intensity to male MPs. I could have listened to her for ages as she had such interesting views on women's representation. I didn't manage to catch her name, which was a pity as she came across as very competent. However, by the end of this hour, I was left feeling despondent about the prospects for equal representation in any council or parliament anytime in my lifetime.
A change of scene was called for to raise our spirits. The Forest Fringe Programme was running its last couple of events. We spent some time in both of these.
Firstly, the day-long project to map where people had come from to get to the fringe. We couldn't help as ideally, they wanted tickets to place on string weaving criss cross around the room or stories about our journey. "I got on a bus and got off again" wasn't exotic enough I felt and K couldn't give up her train ticket since that was needed to get home. But a great creative idea that it would have been good to spend more time looking at.
But the other event was more exciting. Over 12 hours, Third Angel & mala voadora ran What I Heard About the World (Research Map), an event attempting to map the world and collect a story for each country in it. They were going through the names of countries in alphabetical order to collect stories of fakery and pretense. Audience members came and went sharing stories of places they'd lived or visited and these were recorded in two word summations.
It was one of the most impressive and creative events I've ever seen and 12 hours was not long enough to complete this.
Emerging again into mid-festival Saturday evening crowds we ambled along to the National Library where we had good luck in getting tickets for Alan Bissett's final fringe performance of the Moira Monologues.
I'd read great reviews of this show, but hadn't any high expectations of it. I was so wrong. Once I recovered from the shock of the appalling language, I joined the rest of the audience in roaring with laughter at the antics of Moira, a well drawn example of her kind - Falkirk Woman with Attitude.
From the first sketch; Moira insisting her hard-man neighbour make his rottweiler apologise to her 'wee Pepe' for eating his food and frightening him, to the final biting observation, that we can always rely on the English football team not to let us down, this was brilliant entertainment.
The language although strong, was rhythmic and authentic to the way large parts of central Scotland speaks, but sadly I suppose it will prevent this show reaching the TV audience it deserves. I hope someone takes the risk of broadcasting it, because it didn't offend K or me who are the most easily offended women anywhere, which is high praise indeed.
The evening ended with a drenching in the downpour as we went on our way home... I'm getting a bit fed up with what passes for summer this year, but I'm sure I'm not alone in that.
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