HITTING THE BIG SIX OH
No, not me. That's still some time off, albeit now more easily reckoned in months than years.
Yesterday, on the last night of the 2014 Edinburgh Festival Fringe, we ended up at a couple more shows to bring our total of events for the period to sixty. In twenty three days. Slightly knackered, but elated with seeing so much great entertainment. This is not the post to go into details of what we've been to, but The Nualas gained a couple of new fans last night. And we finished with the godmother of Scottish comedy, so a laugh was guaranteed.
But this is more about reflecting on the artificiality of the Fringe-going life, and what is now to come. If you've read previous posts you'll know that immediately prior to launching into all that comedy, drama, music, radio, TV and sundry other events we were tied up in the house moving process, shifting ourselves and worldly goods from Southport to Edinburgh (even if most of said goods now reside in a warehouse a mile from where I now sit), and trying to squeeze a quart of clothing etc. from a four bed semi into the pint pot of a two bed flat. Which is a pretty artificial existence in itself, and even more knackering. So it's been quite a few weeks since we've experienced anything resembling normal and I am looking forward to a quiet night in as much as if I'd been asked round to supper by Sidse Babett Knudsen. Well, almost as much. Maybe.
So having, in effect, just arrived, the new kids on the block, we have to contrive to find out what normal now looks like. If normal can include house hunting, which looks like taking up a lot of our time in the coming weeks. Viewing properties, getting to know various areas of the city better than we do at the moment, and acquiring Mastermind levels of knowledge of bus timetables. So it's going to be an odd kind of normal, looking for another life to replace the one we're trying to establish. And retirement's supposed to be restful?
There's one final block to something like normality. A little local matter of a referendum, taking place in twenty three days time. You might have heard about it. Or even read how I reached my own decision on the subject. The polls still say there will be a negative result, but three weeks is a long time and much can still happen. So I'm going to offer my services to Yes. It won't be much, but at least it's something.
So what is normal? And can it include moving house, Fringing, seeking out a new home and trying to ensure the future of democracy in your country? Normal might just be a bit boring.
Tuesday 26 August 2014
Monday 11 August 2014
More Fringe stuff
LOOKING FOR THE BEST?
Aaaargh! They played that bloody Sting song on the radio this morning. But, fortunately, I suffered none of the flashbacks I feared when I wrote this post because there have been a few other distractions in the intervening eight days. Like finally getting the flat into something like a liveable state after our move up here, having guests to stay over the weekend, and seeing a further seventeen Fringe shows. We're not short of distractions.
If you're coming to The Fringe, or already here, you might read this hoping for some recommendations of what's best to go and see. And I have a problem with that. Partly because my tastes are eclectic and almost certainly very different to yours (you weirdo), and also not knowing what 'best' means. We've seen stand up comedy, science based comedy, physical comedy, music, drama, a full blown musical and a couple of guys having a bit of a chat. Which 'best' did you want from that lot?
There is one definition of best I could go with. That's when the thing you're watching ends and you don't applaud because you're thinking "that couldn't have been sixty minutes". Then you realise it was and you've just been so engrossed that time compressed. If that's your idea of 'best' then I can give you a clear winner from the stuff we've seen so far.
If you read about my personal Top Ten from Fringe 2013 then the name Jennifer Williams might ring a bell. Wonderful last year, even better this time. The Cold Clear Elsewhere tells the story of Australian war brides who came to the UK in 1946, a tale Williams makes far more interesting to watch than it might initially sound. She plays Grace. And Grace's best friend. And her mother, and her husband, and his mother, and few others along the way. With music and ambient sound provided by her brother, Jennifer makes smart use of a big space and carefully chosen props to take the audience through time and on a journey across the world. She is funny, moving, pathetic, inspiring and coquettish. It is a compelling performance with scene succeeding scene in rapid succession, but with no confusion as to time and place. We might even go again when our next visitors turn up.
Other recommendations? Go see the wonderful, hilarious, at-times-confessional, big softie bear that is Mr Aidan Goatley doing 11 Films to Happiness at Ciao Roma. You will be amused, charmed, entertained and barely educated. (Did I get that last bit right?) Molland and Sullivan in the Beehive were laugh-a-second funny with a fine line in instant insults for audience members. Possibly not the best choice for the shy and retiring. Finally there is an odd comedy/lecture/art demo hybrid in the National gallery every Thursday. Phill Jupitus shows off the copies he's made of paintings in the gallery, Hannah Gadsby (art expert and stand up comic) gives her, em, views on his efforts. Some of his drawings are great. And some are less than great. You never know what's coming up next.
And then there was Red Bastard..... but that deserves a post of it's own.
That's it for now, there's another couple of shows awaiting our attention. Barbara just suggested we have something she calls 'a day off'. I think she must be talking about September.
Aaaargh! They played that bloody Sting song on the radio this morning. But, fortunately, I suffered none of the flashbacks I feared when I wrote this post because there have been a few other distractions in the intervening eight days. Like finally getting the flat into something like a liveable state after our move up here, having guests to stay over the weekend, and seeing a further seventeen Fringe shows. We're not short of distractions.
If you're coming to The Fringe, or already here, you might read this hoping for some recommendations of what's best to go and see. And I have a problem with that. Partly because my tastes are eclectic and almost certainly very different to yours (you weirdo), and also not knowing what 'best' means. We've seen stand up comedy, science based comedy, physical comedy, music, drama, a full blown musical and a couple of guys having a bit of a chat. Which 'best' did you want from that lot?
There is one definition of best I could go with. That's when the thing you're watching ends and you don't applaud because you're thinking "that couldn't have been sixty minutes". Then you realise it was and you've just been so engrossed that time compressed. If that's your idea of 'best' then I can give you a clear winner from the stuff we've seen so far.
If you read about my personal Top Ten from Fringe 2013 then the name Jennifer Williams might ring a bell. Wonderful last year, even better this time. The Cold Clear Elsewhere tells the story of Australian war brides who came to the UK in 1946, a tale Williams makes far more interesting to watch than it might initially sound. She plays Grace. And Grace's best friend. And her mother, and her husband, and his mother, and few others along the way. With music and ambient sound provided by her brother, Jennifer makes smart use of a big space and carefully chosen props to take the audience through time and on a journey across the world. She is funny, moving, pathetic, inspiring and coquettish. It is a compelling performance with scene succeeding scene in rapid succession, but with no confusion as to time and place. We might even go again when our next visitors turn up.
Other recommendations? Go see the wonderful, hilarious, at-times-confessional, big softie bear that is Mr Aidan Goatley doing 11 Films to Happiness at Ciao Roma. You will be amused, charmed, entertained and barely educated. (Did I get that last bit right?) Molland and Sullivan in the Beehive were laugh-a-second funny with a fine line in instant insults for audience members. Possibly not the best choice for the shy and retiring. Finally there is an odd comedy/lecture/art demo hybrid in the National gallery every Thursday. Phill Jupitus shows off the copies he's made of paintings in the gallery, Hannah Gadsby (art expert and stand up comic) gives her, em, views on his efforts. Some of his drawings are great. And some are less than great. You never know what's coming up next.
And then there was Red Bastard..... but that deserves a post of it's own.
That's it for now, there's another couple of shows awaiting our attention. Barbara just suggested we have something she calls 'a day off'. I think she must be talking about September.
Sunday 3 August 2014
There's no such thing as weird on The Fringe
OF A BIG BLUE TENT, A BLONDE WIG AND A VAGINAL LIFT
But not all three at once.
So we've done two days of Fringe going so far and seen three shows. I'd call that a nice gentle start, easing ourselves in.
Last night we went to see our favourite local comedian/physiotherapist, Elaine Miller, in her show Gusset Grippers. Appropriately for a day when the skies crowded in and Edinburgh took on a damp sheen this was an hour dedicated to people who pish themselves. Part comedy, part education, part science. But mostly just bloody funny, despite, or maybe because, being shambolic. How many shows offer you interactive pelvic floor exercises, a mental image of Bruce Willis in a lift inside a vagina, and free fanny wash? Recommended show? Absolutely.
Today we went to the BBC's Big Blue Tent which we've visited frequently in the past, and will be doing again this year. The draw is twofold. There's a variety of interesting events taking place. And (better still) it's all free. But having applied for loads of shows it's in the hands of the licence fee gods as what you actually get tickets for. This afternoon's offering was towards the more random end of the spectrum.
I haven't consciously chosen to listen to Radio 1 since the eighties. So the name Greg James registered zilch with me, old fogey that I am proud to be. His presence on stage might explain why the crowd we were part of felt a good bit younger than is usual for these shows. Bring back a Radio 4 audience....
Mr (Master?) James was interviewing John Kearns, winner of the best comedy newcomer award at The Fringe 2013. Talking about how his life had changed as a result (he only gave up the day job last November and is now a full time professional comedian) and why August in Edinburgh matters so much to comedians in general, even those who have been well established for years. There's simply nothing else like it in the comedy world (which is great for those of us lucky enough to live here) and has been the launch platform for so many of today's laugh making stars.
Kearns described his own act as 'silly', complete with daft wig and comedic false teeth. We 'do' silly, so we followed him down to town and filed into the Voodoo Rooms (a good place to visit for breakfast even when the Festival has packed up its suitcases and wheeled itself off to Waverley Station). JK was certainly different, although far less weird/silly than a lot of other acts we've seen (and the lack of a miniature Die Hard star was noticeable), and likes a bit of audience interaction. We were in the front row. So somehow I ended up being the one perched on a bar stool on stage, ill fitting curly blonde wig affixed to my head. I was instructed to drain the remains of my pint which was then replaced by a mixture of Lucozade and Tia Maria. So stroking John's right knee, and swaying with him in time to Sting's rendition of 'Fields of Gold', seemed like the easy option rather than having to take a sip of such a disgusting mixture.
But I wonder what pictures my mind will flash before me next time I hear Any Sting?
But not all three at once.
So we've done two days of Fringe going so far and seen three shows. I'd call that a nice gentle start, easing ourselves in.
Last night we went to see our favourite local comedian/physiotherapist, Elaine Miller, in her show Gusset Grippers. Appropriately for a day when the skies crowded in and Edinburgh took on a damp sheen this was an hour dedicated to people who pish themselves. Part comedy, part education, part science. But mostly just bloody funny, despite, or maybe because, being shambolic. How many shows offer you interactive pelvic floor exercises, a mental image of Bruce Willis in a lift inside a vagina, and free fanny wash? Recommended show? Absolutely.
Today we went to the BBC's Big Blue Tent which we've visited frequently in the past, and will be doing again this year. The draw is twofold. There's a variety of interesting events taking place. And (better still) it's all free. But having applied for loads of shows it's in the hands of the licence fee gods as what you actually get tickets for. This afternoon's offering was towards the more random end of the spectrum.
I haven't consciously chosen to listen to Radio 1 since the eighties. So the name Greg James registered zilch with me, old fogey that I am proud to be. His presence on stage might explain why the crowd we were part of felt a good bit younger than is usual for these shows. Bring back a Radio 4 audience....
Mr (Master?) James was interviewing John Kearns, winner of the best comedy newcomer award at The Fringe 2013. Talking about how his life had changed as a result (he only gave up the day job last November and is now a full time professional comedian) and why August in Edinburgh matters so much to comedians in general, even those who have been well established for years. There's simply nothing else like it in the comedy world (which is great for those of us lucky enough to live here) and has been the launch platform for so many of today's laugh making stars.
Kearns described his own act as 'silly', complete with daft wig and comedic false teeth. We 'do' silly, so we followed him down to town and filed into the Voodoo Rooms (a good place to visit for breakfast even when the Festival has packed up its suitcases and wheeled itself off to Waverley Station). JK was certainly different, although far less weird/silly than a lot of other acts we've seen (and the lack of a miniature Die Hard star was noticeable), and likes a bit of audience interaction. We were in the front row. So somehow I ended up being the one perched on a bar stool on stage, ill fitting curly blonde wig affixed to my head. I was instructed to drain the remains of my pint which was then replaced by a mixture of Lucozade and Tia Maria. So stroking John's right knee, and swaying with him in time to Sting's rendition of 'Fields of Gold', seemed like the easy option rather than having to take a sip of such a disgusting mixture.
But I wonder what pictures my mind will flash before me next time I hear Any Sting?
Friday 1 August 2014
Not quite ready to Fringe
ON THE FRINGE OF THE FRINGE
It's day One of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. If you read any of my posts from around this time last year you'll know how much that thought excites me. But today has been about restraint, before we gorge ourselves on the feast.
We have just completed a house move, and are now full time Edinburgh residents. The flat isn't quite straight yet, and there's more to be done, so we can't become committed Fringe goers quite yet. So even though we were up in town today we managed to resist the lure of all the sights and sounds that simply watching the street acts can offer. Although, inevitably, I did find myself with a pocketful of fliers, despite skirting around the edges of the main areas of activity and performance. The Fringe is unavoidable.
What I did do, and I know how sad this sounds, was sort all our tickets into date order and put them into daily plastic pockets so it's clear each day what we're on our way to see. Eighteen Fringe shows booked, and tickets for eight of the BBC offerings in the Big Blue Tent. Plus three plays in one day from the 'proper' festival. There's comedy, of course, plus drama, interviews, a TV broadcast, music (folk, jazz and classical) and even a stage musical (a genre I would usually avoid). All of which gives the coming weeks a bit of shape, around which we have to fit in a few of our favourite Free Fringe performers, such as the wonderfully funny Aidan Goatley and the lovely and talented Jennifer Williams. Plus my personal highlight from last year, The Showhawk Duo.
And a friend has just told me, via Facebook, to go and see her friend in a play. Will it be any good? I have no idea, but I'll go anyway. If there's one word sums up Fringe time it's serendipity.
Watch this space....
It's day One of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. If you read any of my posts from around this time last year you'll know how much that thought excites me. But today has been about restraint, before we gorge ourselves on the feast.
We have just completed a house move, and are now full time Edinburgh residents. The flat isn't quite straight yet, and there's more to be done, so we can't become committed Fringe goers quite yet. So even though we were up in town today we managed to resist the lure of all the sights and sounds that simply watching the street acts can offer. Although, inevitably, I did find myself with a pocketful of fliers, despite skirting around the edges of the main areas of activity and performance. The Fringe is unavoidable.
What I did do, and I know how sad this sounds, was sort all our tickets into date order and put them into daily plastic pockets so it's clear each day what we're on our way to see. Eighteen Fringe shows booked, and tickets for eight of the BBC offerings in the Big Blue Tent. Plus three plays in one day from the 'proper' festival. There's comedy, of course, plus drama, interviews, a TV broadcast, music (folk, jazz and classical) and even a stage musical (a genre I would usually avoid). All of which gives the coming weeks a bit of shape, around which we have to fit in a few of our favourite Free Fringe performers, such as the wonderfully funny Aidan Goatley and the lovely and talented Jennifer Williams. Plus my personal highlight from last year, The Showhawk Duo.
And a friend has just told me, via Facebook, to go and see her friend in a play. Will it be any good? I have no idea, but I'll go anyway. If there's one word sums up Fringe time it's serendipity.
Watch this space....
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