Fringegestion

It's easy to overdo it at this time of year and trot frantically from venue to venue trying to fit it all in. This greed can produce what I call "Fringegestion", a condition resulting in an overstuffed brain no longer able to discern entertainment from dross.

Some fringers have great tolerance and can take in as many shows as possible in one day, while others need more time between events so as to digest what they've seen. Four shows in one day is my maximum, with one or two exhibitions in between. Over that limit and my cultural lobes crash. Normally takes a day or two for the desire to gamble time and energy on more fringely opportunities to revive. But sooner or later, I gambol off to well trodden venues or in search of new (and more comfortable) theatre spaces.

Gazing vacantly at enthusiastic young acts in the High Street helps regain a sense of perspective in the short term.

Anyone familiar with the concept of the fringe will be aware, or at least guess that it is used to set up fringes to some of the other festivals in Edinburgh. So, the Book Festival has a fringe. The one event I managed was Helen Zaltzman and Olly Mann reading from their book Answer Me This? A very popular event and sort of entertaining in it's way.

Then it was time for Jackie Kay at the Book Festival. This was one of the funniest events I've been to this month, if not this year.

Next up, Bumfluff and Brimstone. This is where the fringegestion kicks in, after the glorious wit of Jackie Kay to a woman in her first Fringe show having decided at 40 that she wanted to do stand up.  She tried, and some material was quite good, but, my perception of her was coloured by the previous event.

Following a short gap and time for a bit of a walk I finished the day with the reliably funny Kate Smurthwaite. After my last year's rant about her not getting enough TV, she is now making a welcome habit of appearing on comment pieces and discussion programmes and speaking up for rational feminism.

Next day brought a change of focus with the Festival of Politics at Holyrood. As with the Book Fringe, I could only fit in one event. Is the far north safe in Nordic hands? Chaired expertly by Lesley Riddoch with presentations from a Norwegian oil and gas exploration representative, and a woman from Murmansk asserting the ecological viewpoint, this did not disappoint.  I knew little of the arguments surrounding this discussion, so I was on a steep learning curve.  Pressure to find new oil, gas and fish stocks will mean that the nations surrounding the Arctic are looking at ways to exploit the resources, developing new technologies to do so and generally panicking those who don't trust nations or companies not to wreck the fragile environment in that area.

That had been all I'd planned to do as I'd had lots the day before and anticipated a heavy fringeathon the next day. But, little goes to plan and as I walked up the road, I was invited into a free Burn's show, free three course, Vegetarian Burn's Supper and free ten year old Tallisker whisky.
I'm not going to refuse that.  I'd not been in Monteith's restaurant before, but I'll be going again judging by the standard of the food. The vegetable terrine starter was sublime, the veggie haggis was ok and the raspberry Cranachan was scrummy. The show was really good fun, especially as this was the final one and they were more than a little demob happy.

Two good days on the fringe, demonstrating that if you wander about the city opportunities sometimes land in your lap.

More, but not of the same

Orlando
Of the few shows I planned to see during the Fringe, Virginia Woolf's witty biography Orlando was low on the list. Until I noticed it was promoted in Jenner's department store window and that it had been awarded five stars. I don't often go on reviewers recommendations, but this time I did and it paid off handsomely.

Orlando was played by Glasgow based Judith Williams in bright crisp tones, easy to engage with throughout the performance. The sparse set design brought to life with lighting, projections and original sound track were all admirable and enjoyable. The costume design was almost the best aspect with an inventive changeover from male to female attire achieved with convincing effect. Conveying the main adventures in Orlando's long life in an hour was managed without diluting the impact of the charm and romance of the book.

Any performance in Edinburgh is up against the vast competition across the city and even five stars did not guarantee capacity audiences for this one, but at least on the day I went it was fairly full and very well received.

1001 Nights
Swept up in enthusiasm I agreed to accompany Sig Other to six hours of Alf Layla wa-Layla at the Lyceum. The Festival programme says of this production:

Erotic, brutal, witty and poetic. One Thousand and One Nights are the never-ending stories told by the young Shahrazad under sentence of death to King Shahrayar ... is told in two compelling parts each of which can be seen and enjoyed on its own; or see both in the same day and fully immerse yourself in these remarkable tales for a truly intoxicating Festival experience.

It was indeed an experience and one that's left conflicting thoughts. The first half was more brutal while the second was more witty; the poetry ran throughout this Arabic, French and English performance.

This is a wonderfully international production with cast, musicians and creative team from many Arabic and some European countries. It was written by Hanan Al-Shaykh who adapted the tales and emphasised their feminist message about misogynist men being made aware of their cruelty to women.

Certainly the first half amply demonstrated this cruelty, but the second half brought realisation and understanding to the Caliph and the other men in the tales. They resolved to change. 

Much was made of the tale of the five sisters who lived together, and their choice to continue so after marriage went wrong for all of them. Frequently, they were referred to as 'living alone' as if five people in a household were alone if there was not a man amongst them. This is similar to the old feminist saw of two women in a bar being approached by smoothy male with the opener "What are you ladies doing on your own?"  Apparently women in whatever quantity are alone if there is no male there.

Part of my conflicting thoughts are that I'd only narrowly agreed to see both parts and I wonder what I'd have been left with had I only seen part one. Overall, it was the correct decision to spend the day in this way, but I'm not sure I'll be persuaded by the enticement of a theatrical 'experience' again.

I was rather relieved that the comfort of the seats in the Lyceum meant I was not cramped and stiff by the end.

Brief reviews

At the half way mark in the festival I begin to long for a normal life again and just start to run out of steam. This is especially true when certain conditions are prevalent, like the depressing rain or if too many shows/exhibitions/events are bad. Fortunately, or simply through experience I've been to few disappointing shows this year, and have avoided the gloomy venues which bring my enthusiasm to a halt.  I'm just getting tired of hopping on and off buses, braving the crowds and running around between the other parts of my life. They need some attention after all, and when coming home to neglected housework and a foodless fridge is due to fringing, it's time to calm down a bit. So I went to very few shows at this fringely midpoint.

I've not had time or inclination to update the blog on what I have seen and this is reflected in what is a miserly piece on three really good shows that should have more said about them.

Mary Mary Quite Contrary stand up from Mary Bourke, at the free fringe.
Please just take it as read that I have raved on about her. I will spare the repeat from last year where I labour the point that there are some very good women doing stand up in Edinburgh, but the big venues fail to promote them. And I despair of seeing the likes of Mary Bourke on my TV on a Saturday night anytime soon. Rather, it will be the usual continuation of shouty, marchy up and downy blokes all winter when we should be seeing comedy that appeals to a much more intelligent demographic, like feminists!!

Didn't quite avoid repetition of my point about more funny women who do not offend easily offended feminists.


Bosom Buddies with Jack Klaff
A complete change of mood from the above, but enthralling theatre. Thankfully, the audience is given a handout of the characters played in this one hander as there were one or two historical people I'd never heard of.  I came home to google Ottoline Morrell, Margarete Buber-Nueman and Sabina Spielrein. I'd heard of all the male characters, as history is meticulous about recording them and making us search for the women portrayed by Jack Klaff.

I'd need to see it at least twice more before I could really convey how this piece of conversations between the characters, spanning major events in the 20th Century ebbed and flowed around and about the Cuban Missile Crisis, psychoanalysis, relativity, African, Indian, Russian history and probably more that eluded me.

Next time this is performed I'll get another ticket.

Booking Dance Festival: Split Bill
This American company brings dance troupes to the Fringe to showcase excerpts from their shows and assists those in the industry to book the acts. They also have tickets for the public.

I'm afraid I have to rave again, this time about three utterly distinct dance performances in one afternoon, starting with Rhythmic Circus. Described as 'Live Music and Rapid Fire Hard Hitting Tap' this was energy squared backed up by a very good seven piece live band. The ultimate in pretty people entertained a moderate sized crowd in Edinburgh's International Conference Centre. I just clapped my little hands off while they tap danced through hip-hop, funk, blues, and soul music.

Next Damagedance performed their world premier of Glimpses. This powerful performance explored psychological disorders, demonstrating that everyone suffers from something to some extent. We try to hide it.

I was initially cautious about this, but after a few minutes I was completely won over by this amazing group of young dancers.

Finally, Labyrinth Dance Theatre performed Noor.  I liked this, and the complete change of pace contrasted with the previous two dances. However, it did not move me as much as I expected for a story of the tragic heroism of Noor-un-nisa Inayat Khan. But I was very happy to be reminded of one of the women who played an important part in WW2 and who was awarded the George Cross.

Fringing on a Saturday Night

It's not that usual for me to go see events in the official festival, so this year should hold a few treats as Sig Other has chosen one or two he fancies. He seemed surprised I would so readily see Philip Glass and his ensemble not knowing I've liked PG since first hearing his music when I was fairly young. I find it appealing, but being so musically untutored I would not be able to explain why.

Koyaanisqatsi (1983) Hopi for 'life out of balance' is the first in the Qatsi Trilogy. Sig Other reassuringly noted it is not about something without specific meaning or value. This averted much speculation on my part that would otherwise have completely distracted me from the experience of the film and music.

Definitely the best image from the film.

The Ensemble was a treat to listen to, in particular the vocals of Lisa Bielawa. Powaqqatsi and Naqoyaqatsi the other two films in the trilogy were on subsequent evenings, however, I don't think I would have fully appreciated the immersion in Philip Glass. Maybe I'll see them another time.

Because there is so much on at the fringe, instead of leaving Koyaanisqatsi and spending time reflecting on the impact this had on my, I wandered into another show.

Kiss of the Red Menace, a Tribute to Kander and Ebb was by no means a bad choice. Melody La Rouge and her four piece backing group put on a cheery performance of show songs from Chicago and Cabaret and some others which I'd not come across.  And if we hadn't gone then, we'd have missed it as this was her final show for this fringe.

Indeed the fringe throws up opportunities for strange juxtapositions. It's what makes it an exciting month. And exhausting!

Some art

Karen Forbes Solar pavilion in St Andrew's Square. It looks great from the outside and I'm not going to see the inside if I don't get there when it's open.

Edinburgh Art Festival runs roughly concurrently with the other festivals and I always make sure I see as much of this as I can fit in. Of course, I prioritise work by women as well as indulging in the odd exhibition that takes my fancy as I wander past tempting or intriguing posters.

Sometimes it's all a bit over my head and I work hard to remind myself that art is a broad category. There is something for everyone and the last thing I want is to be one of those encouraged to sneer at modern art by stick in the mud traditionalists.

Katri Walker has an installation titled North West in an old ambulance depot. It was the idea of claiming that sort of space which attracted me to the exhibition. Which was not that easy to find.

There was a film about someone making a film about a group of avid Aberdeenshire chappies in their cowboy role play group. There was a warmth and charm to this that counter-balanced my usual knee jerk assumptions about men having far too much disposable time and income. There was an absence of women; maybe their partners didn't fancy any roles traditional to women in the wild west.

What's not to like about Russian icons? An Edinburgh collector welcomed people into his front room to display a selling exhibition of his Russian icons. Ooooh! I want! Realistically though, they would be wasted in my hovel.

Wherein your correspondent gets pissed off

Fringing is not for the lackadaisical, laid back, devil may care types. It takes dedication, patience and a natural toleration of crap that few are gifted with. Certainly not me. Neither am I in the former set of categories. I'm a grumpy Edinburgh wummin coping with the annual influx of stop and start, pavement blocking nae idea how to use a bus tourists thronging most of city, or at least the centre of it. There are of course areas where there is no evidence of the cultural infestation of the inner metropolis*, areas which see no apparent economic benefit from the doubling of the population and spending spree for flat owners and bars.

When I worked in outer city areas of deprivation, it was easy to relate to the cultural disenfranchisement and occasional irritation of local folks at how the city was taken over for August each year. And their keen perception that there was nothing in it for them. Not least because even the fringe has become too expensive for many people.

There's been changes in recent years, with the Free Fringe taking up space in slightly further flung areas and now, even Leith has its own Fringe on offer. But the sense of, particularly the BBC types decamping north and mingling only with their own species persists.

The BBC are setting up camp in the heart of the main fringe area this year. If you look carefully, you'll notice as my sharp-eyed daughter did, that they've installed the bar, while still erecting other parts of the site.

I'm used to all this, though, so what is pissing me off is going to really badly described shows. There's only a few lines allowed to promote the show, but in the days of 140 character twitter, more effort could be put into concise accuracy. It's wasteful of my time to mislead potential audience about your show. The show below was so misleading! "Three sharp females" Huh.

Daughter arrived yesterday and insisted on going out in the rain to see something. I checked what was on offer in the limited time she had. It was always going to be challenging to find something we could agree on and it seemed that Vinegar Knickers present Sketchy beast could be it.

Nah.

I really want to support women breaking out the mold, women being funny, women learning their craft, women getting out there and onto a stage. I really want to say that these three young women are going to mature into great comedians, dancers, singers, actors. I can't.

Some of the material could have been good, delivered by comics possessed of a modicum of talent. Mostly, the material was as poor as the comics. Daughter agreed.

What really tipped me over the edge, was the use of music from a long discredited 70's glam rock popstar jailed for his abuse of girls abroad. And the disgraceful paedophile jokes. What is missing in the commonsense make up of so many comics that they consider jokes about domestic abuse, rape, child abuse, funny and even necessary to their act?

I'm not linking to this bunch. They do not deserve it.

*not sure Edinburgh can be designated a metropolis as it's so small.