BEST OF THE YEAR
What were my favourite entertainment moments of 2015?
From a purely personal perspective 2015 has been one of the most enjoyable years of my life. It's wonderful to be back living in my home city again, not least because there are so many things to do. Whilst I've had fun posting in this blog over the past twelve months, it's been the other blog I began in February which perhaps best reflects how much there has been to relish in the twelve months just gone by.
Go Live gave me a chance to combine two of my favourite hobbies - writing, and going to see live performances. Since I get pleasure from the former, and spend a great deal of time on the latter, why not try my hand at writing reviews? I don't claim it to have been any great success, but I do love the challenge and have no plans to stop anytime soon.
At the start I thought I'd write about every live event I went to, plus any films I saw in the cinema. At first I included reports of ice hockey matches, but this was soon dropped. I don't think I have any future as a sports writer! (And hockey now plays such a big part of our winter lives that it would dominate the blog if I let it....) So the blog concentrates on music and comedy gigs, plays and films.
The very first post was actually, bizarrely, two totally unconnected reviews in one. Not a mistake I've repeated since. I came closest to breaking the pattern in August, when I saw over 60 Fringe shows and simply finding the time to write the reviews became a problem on occasion. But they're all there....
Today it's time to look back over all of those reviews and recall what were my favourites - in Comedy, Music, Drama and Film. In doing so I see I've reviewed 51 comedy gigs, 45 music gigs, 27 plays and 31 films. (And 7 ice hockey match reports.) Oh, and one oddity that doesn't quite fit into any of the above.
1) Comedy
The easy answer would be Mark Thomas who once again demonstrated his genius for combining radical politics with gut wrenching laughter. But I'm going to go for someone who I'd never seen before and who has stuck in the memory like no other. George Egg : Anarchist Cook was a stand up show like no other as he produced a delicious three course meal before our eyes using cooking implements that can be found in a hotel room. Imaginative, instructive and hilarious.
Mind you, there have been so many other great comic moments from the likes of Mark Steel, Stu & Garry, Sarah Kendall and our mate Aidan Goatley that the choice wasn't as simple as I make it sound.
2) Music
As with comedy I could simply choose my all time favourite band, Lau, and the two magnificent performances they gave in London and Edinburgh. But, as above, I'm going to go with an act that was new to me and left a big impression. So I'm choosing Himmerland who were one of the most original outfits I encountered combining Danish folk, jazz and Ghanaian rhythms. Superb entertainment and great studio album too. (Plus, bizarrely, reviewing them resulted in my words being translated into Danish. A surreal experience.)
Other great bands I saw this year? Dallahan, Dean Owens, Viper Swing,Woody Pines.... it would be so easy to go on and on.
3) Drama
Seeing Jonathan Pryce as The Merchant of Venice at The Globe was certainly memorable, but the story was too weel kent to make any real emotional impact. So my choice is a far less ambitious production staged in a square box of a room in a modern Edinburgh University building. Hannah and Hanna was a simple, low budget, two hander with a powerful message.
Honourable mentions go to The Driver's Seat, Hotel Paradiso, Tracks of the Winter Bear and all ten of the productions in the A Play, A Pie and A Pint series.
4) Film
Only one winner for me here. Hector has stayed with me like no other big screen experience this year. Peter Mullan is magnificent, the story life affirming, a tale that needed telling.
I also loved Welcome to Me, 13 Minutes, Suffragette and Still Alice.
5) Book
No, I don't do book reviews, but I do read a lot. Forty three this year, down from previous years, but maybe because I've been out so much! They cover a wide variety of genres and periods, although only one was non-fiction. The most memorable of these was The Panopticon by Jenni Fagan. Telling the story of Anais, a teenager in a young offenders institution, it's a powerful reminder of how easy it is for anyone to become one of society's outcasts, and how little we try to understand the people our systems fail.
Other memorable novels have been Learning to Lose by David Trueba, The Kiln by William McIlvanney and Alice in Exile by Piers Paul Read.
6) Hockey Match
I might not write match reports any longer, but I couldn't refrain from comment on what's become such an important part of my life. At it's best live sport can provide all the drama of a Shakespeare - heroes and villains, elation and despair, ugliness and beauty, uncertainty and commitment. All of these were fully delivered in the Edinburgh Capitals match against Cardiff Devils on 4 December. The Welsh side took a one goal advantage from the first period, dominated the second with another score early on before making it three just before the hooter went. There was little more than 10 minutes left on the clock when Caps got their first, a maiden EIHL goal for young Sean Beattie. They got a second with less than 3 minutes left, and the equaliser came with only 28 seconds on the clock. There's drama for you. Overtime saw Caps complete an unlikely comeback with a Jacob Johnston goal after only 24 seconds. What a night.
And finally....
Just in case you think that everything I get to see turns out to be wonderful I should maybe mention some of the turkeys of the year. North v South was a tedious film to endure. Sparrow Folk weren't as funny as they thought they were. Our Ladies of Perpetual Succour was a musical drama that never got my interest. And In the Pink didn't seem to know what they wanted to be. But the bin bag of the year award has to fall to 'comedy' show Relatively Normal, an hour of my life I have no wish revisit. Dire.
Here's to a hugely entertaining 2016.
Thursday, 31 December 2015
Thursday, 24 December 2015
You're never too old....
THE SINGER, NOT THE SONG
One such occasion never fails to make me laugh when I recall it. Barbara, as you do, started to sing along to the track she was listening to. In saying 'sing' I am being extremely generous. There were noises, a few of which resembled something like a tune. Which tune was impossible to say until I heard a fragment of lyric, words I recognised, and bust out laughing that what I was hearing was in any way connected to the song I knew so well.
Fast forward to the present. Back in April Barbara joined a local choir. No auditions, just find the vocal range that suits you best and away you go. Just for fun, have a good laugh, enjoy yourselves. Except. They sometimes get asked to give public performances, perhaps three or four times a year. And then it becomes more than just a bit of fun, when there's an actual audience going to be there.
The choir provides the lyrics and the music, broken down into the various voice types, for people to download and practice at home. So Barbara has got into the habit of taking her phone into the bathroom in the morning and singing along to the songs they are currently learning.
Guess what (part 1)? She loves it.
Guess what (part 2)? The noises coming out of that bathroom sound pretty good (albeit a bit odd, as there seem to be a lot of passages that are more ooooh, dum dum dum and aaaah than actual words). They sound like songs.
To date she's taken part in three live performances. The first two were outdoors, so the wind played a role, and the rehearsals didn't seem to have been taken all that seriously, so nerves were there in abundance. Last weekend the choir performed in the National Museum, and the preparation for this one was much more thorough. Even I could tell, just from listening to those toilet rehearsals, that it was going to be better for Xmas.
Is there a moral to this tale? Well, sort of. There's an 'old dog, new tricks' vibe going on here, don't you think? Or is just to say that you should ignore the laughter of your life partner and go and do what you want to do anyway....
And just in case you don't want to take my word for it, here's some video footage of the event. (It's not very good quality, and there a few slightly odd audience noises at times, but you'll get some idea of what it was like.)
Merry Xmas everybody, and an excellent 2016.
Thursday, 26 November 2015
Should we bomb Syria?
THERE DOESN'T SEEM TO BE MUCH POINT IN TEACHING HISTORY ANY MORE
So it looks like we're going to war. Again. In the Middle East. Again. David Cameron tried to make his case for this action earlier today. He even managed to cover all the relevant topics. Although the actual answers he provided were few in number. Credibility was lacking throughout.
Because, from both a humanitarian and a pragmatic viewpoint, only one thing really matters. If we've learned nothing else from Iraq and Afghanistan and Libya - and the Treat of Versailles almost a hundred years ago - mass killing of your opponents, and the inevitable slaughter of the innocents which comes as a part of such action, comes to nothing when your opponents are driven by a fanatical ideology, unless that ideology itself can be discredited.
So it doesn't matter what the military strategy is (although the lack of a credible ground force to secure territory does look like a huge gaff), if you haven't thought through the endgame fully then the chance are you're going to make things even worse than they were before.
There's one question that has to be answered in full, and that's what this action will do to benefit the most important people in the whole affair - the poor buggers who actually live in Syria. Make genuine improvements to their lives, on their terms, not ours, and you might just have a war worth fighting.
So it looks like we're going to war. Again. In the Middle East. Again. David Cameron tried to make his case for this action earlier today. He even managed to cover all the relevant topics. Although the actual answers he provided were few in number. Credibility was lacking throughout.
Because, from both a humanitarian and a pragmatic viewpoint, only one thing really matters. If we've learned nothing else from Iraq and Afghanistan and Libya - and the Treat of Versailles almost a hundred years ago - mass killing of your opponents, and the inevitable slaughter of the innocents which comes as a part of such action, comes to nothing when your opponents are driven by a fanatical ideology, unless that ideology itself can be discredited.
So it doesn't matter what the military strategy is (although the lack of a credible ground force to secure territory does look like a huge gaff), if you haven't thought through the endgame fully then the chance are you're going to make things even worse than they were before.
There's one question that has to be answered in full, and that's what this action will do to benefit the most important people in the whole affair - the poor buggers who actually live in Syria. Make genuine improvements to their lives, on their terms, not ours, and you might just have a war worth fighting.
Friday, 30 October 2015
Is it time to apply some common sense to the Climate Change debate?
IS THERE A COMMON SENSE APPROACH?
The United Nations says that while world wide actions to reduce the causes of climate change are working, but remain inadequate to stave off potential disasters. Climate change deniers scoff at these views and say that there have always been natural changes in climate and always will be.
Of course there is a wide continuum of views available, with extremes at either end of the spectrum. An intriguing aspect of this is the ways in which a scientific subject has found itself reflected in political extremes as well.
The United Nations says that while world wide actions to reduce the causes of climate change are working, but remain inadequate to stave off potential disasters. Climate change deniers scoff at these views and say that there have always been natural changes in climate and always will be.
I'm not a scientist. You probably aren't either. Even if you are, you probably aren't someone with the expertise and experience needed to make some sense of the vast array of data available on the subject of climate change and then derive sensible conclusions. There aren't many such people in the world. And they are far from unanimous in their interpretations of the possible causes or outcomes. A large majority continue to say that the risks are real, the potential consequences enormous and devastating for the human race. But others say this is nonsense and the earth's atmosphere is perfectly capable of taking care of itself.
By and large the left of politics want to take action to prevent further global warming, whilst the right think that will harm economies. For the far right, such as ukip here and the Tea Party in the US, the latter position has become a matter of faith and they seem to have become fully immunised against any facts or new information which might make them rethink their views.
This is a crazy way to approach a subject where millions of lives are at stake, one where the science matters far far more than politics. Shortsightedness could prove disastrous.
At one extreme are those who fear that climate change is largely man made and will have cataclysmic consequences in this century. They are advocating that humanity greatly reduces it's reliance on fossil fuels and develops alternative energy sources as soon as possible. Other thoughts are to reduce our meat consumption and move more towards a vegetable and cereal based diet which is far more energy efficient.
On the opposite side the extremists say alternative power sources, such as wind, are bad for the economy, waste resources and ruin the countryside. Their first priority is the short term goal of economic prosperity.
I don't know who's right. My instinct says the answers are somewhere between the two, but how far along that continuum, and in which direction, I have no idea.
But applying some common sense to the discussion it's hard to avoid one conclusion.
If the climate change deniers turn out to be correct, but we've invested vast resources in new energy technologies, and other green policies, nothing disastrous will happen. We might be a bit poorer in the short term, but most of what we do will not be wasted. One certainty is that fossil fuels will eventually run out and we have to replace them at some point. In the long term energy renewables make more sense than nuclear from which the dangers can never be fully eliminated.
But if the fears of those who say climate change will dramatically increase sea levels and make vast swathes of the earth uninhabitable could come even remotely true, yet we've done nothing to stave off the outcome, the results would be the greatest disaster ever to face mankind.
Looked at from that perspective, isn't the obvious conclusion to do everything we can to implement those Green ideas? Not to do so is to play Risk on a grand scale with the lives of future generations.
Monday, 19 October 2015
Coming to the hockey
IT'S NOT ALWAYS LIKE THIS....
As I explained at the beginning of this year one of the big changes in my life, our lives, since moving north has been an increasing addiction to ice hockey matches and a passion for supporting the Edinburgh Capitals. The strength of the resultant feelings continues to surprise me, and the story has moved on since. This season we are proud to be season ticket holders at the Murrayfield rink, and I now find myself a member of the Supporters Club committee.
There's no going back now. I'm even in danger of becoming a hockey bore, with a tediously (?) evangelical approach to encouraging others to come along and see what they're missing. And when people from our old life down south come up to visit they are firmly told that if they come up on a weekend between September and March that will be taken as tacit agreement that they want to go to a match....
Two couples have been up here recently and both experienced hockey for the first time in their lives (well three of them did, one woman recalled going to games at Wembley in the sixties!). It turned out that they picked their times wisely.
The first match was against Braehead, with the Caps putting in a storming performance and coming up convincing 6-2 winners. Our friends saw some great goals and were sitting with some very happy fans. I had to tell them it isn't always like this....
The second took place yesterday, and this had a bit more drama thrown in. A woeful looking Capitals team (and some, ahem, 'controversial' refereeing) found themselves four goals down to arch rivals Fife Flyers. Our friends were enjoying the experience, the speed and excitement, and the occasional gentile bout of fisticuffs that broke out on the ice. They also felt a bit sorry for us, watching a drama unfold that might not leave us in the happiest of moods....
What followed will remain with me for a very long time, and certainly gave this southern couple something to remember from their visit. A late goal in the second period kept the fans' hopes of a recovery warm, like a sighting of land from a lifeboat. It turned out not be a mirage. A change of tactics, and our North American pros earning every penny of their pay, saw two goals early on, and screamer of a shot from Ryan Hayes to equalise with five minutes to play. Finishing up with a Caps winner in overtime. No script writer would dare come up so implausible an ending in this cynical age....
And guess what? I had to tell my friends that it isn't always like this....
It might be the top level of British ice hockey, but the resources available to the teams in this league vary enormously. With Caps being firmly towards the lower end of the wealth scale. You become a Caps fan and you become an aficionado of disappointment, a connoisseur of misfortune, someone used to dealing with the blows. It's a very Scottish feeling, that underdog status, and one to be savoured like you'd been given the chips and no fish. You learn to enjoy what you have.
Then there are those nights, like last night, when you not only get the full fish supper, but peas, bread and a decent bottle of wine thrown in.
No, it isn't always like this. But when it is it's one of the greatest feelings in the world.
If you're in Edinburgh you should come along.
As I explained at the beginning of this year one of the big changes in my life, our lives, since moving north has been an increasing addiction to ice hockey matches and a passion for supporting the Edinburgh Capitals. The strength of the resultant feelings continues to surprise me, and the story has moved on since. This season we are proud to be season ticket holders at the Murrayfield rink, and I now find myself a member of the Supporters Club committee.
There's no going back now. I'm even in danger of becoming a hockey bore, with a tediously (?) evangelical approach to encouraging others to come along and see what they're missing. And when people from our old life down south come up to visit they are firmly told that if they come up on a weekend between September and March that will be taken as tacit agreement that they want to go to a match....
Two couples have been up here recently and both experienced hockey for the first time in their lives (well three of them did, one woman recalled going to games at Wembley in the sixties!). It turned out that they picked their times wisely.
The first match was against Braehead, with the Caps putting in a storming performance and coming up convincing 6-2 winners. Our friends saw some great goals and were sitting with some very happy fans. I had to tell them it isn't always like this....
The second took place yesterday, and this had a bit more drama thrown in. A woeful looking Capitals team (and some, ahem, 'controversial' refereeing) found themselves four goals down to arch rivals Fife Flyers. Our friends were enjoying the experience, the speed and excitement, and the occasional gentile bout of fisticuffs that broke out on the ice. They also felt a bit sorry for us, watching a drama unfold that might not leave us in the happiest of moods....
What followed will remain with me for a very long time, and certainly gave this southern couple something to remember from their visit. A late goal in the second period kept the fans' hopes of a recovery warm, like a sighting of land from a lifeboat. It turned out not be a mirage. A change of tactics, and our North American pros earning every penny of their pay, saw two goals early on, and screamer of a shot from Ryan Hayes to equalise with five minutes to play. Finishing up with a Caps winner in overtime. No script writer would dare come up so implausible an ending in this cynical age....
And guess what? I had to tell my friends that it isn't always like this....
It might be the top level of British ice hockey, but the resources available to the teams in this league vary enormously. With Caps being firmly towards the lower end of the wealth scale. You become a Caps fan and you become an aficionado of disappointment, a connoisseur of misfortune, someone used to dealing with the blows. It's a very Scottish feeling, that underdog status, and one to be savoured like you'd been given the chips and no fish. You learn to enjoy what you have.
Then there are those nights, like last night, when you not only get the full fish supper, but peas, bread and a decent bottle of wine thrown in.
No, it isn't always like this. But when it is it's one of the greatest feelings in the world.
If you're in Edinburgh you should come along.
Sunday, 27 September 2015
Pisa is cooler than Glasgow
PISANS 1, WEEGIES 0
Who'd have guessed that the inhabitants of one of Italy's oldest cities had a great level of sophistication than Glasgow's finest? If you doubt the validity of that possibility then here's a bit of photographic evidence.
Of all the many fine achievement that can be attributed to Glaswegians, none is greater than the equestrian statue of Wellington that stands proudly outside the Gallery of Modern Art. Now monuments to the Iron Duke are ten a penny across the cities of Britain, and there is nothing particularly remarkable about this one. Except for his headgear, which may have once been unofficial, but has come to be recognised as a permanent fixture.
That traffic cone says more about Weegies than any ex Tory Prime Minister ever could.
And yet I found today that the people of Pisa have outshone them. Forget the Leaning Tower, and all those ever-so-imaginative tourists posing in front of it with their arms outstretched (oh, how my sides ached to see them all....)
Pisa wins because of this guy.
I have no idea who he is. And does it really matter? He's cool. he's just finished off his cocktail and looks ready for another. Wellington, you may have a silly hat, but can you out-cool James Bond?
No, thought not.
Here he is again, looking a bit shaken, but totally unstirred.
Credit for picture of Welling ton statue :
Statue of Wellington, mounted, Glasgow - DSC06285" by Rept0n1x - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Commons
Who'd have guessed that the inhabitants of one of Italy's oldest cities had a great level of sophistication than Glasgow's finest? If you doubt the validity of that possibility then here's a bit of photographic evidence.
Of all the many fine achievement that can be attributed to Glaswegians, none is greater than the equestrian statue of Wellington that stands proudly outside the Gallery of Modern Art. Now monuments to the Iron Duke are ten a penny across the cities of Britain, and there is nothing particularly remarkable about this one. Except for his headgear, which may have once been unofficial, but has come to be recognised as a permanent fixture.
That traffic cone says more about Weegies than any ex Tory Prime Minister ever could.
And yet I found today that the people of Pisa have outshone them. Forget the Leaning Tower, and all those ever-so-imaginative tourists posing in front of it with their arms outstretched (oh, how my sides ached to see them all....)
Pisa wins because of this guy.
I have no idea who he is. And does it really matter? He's cool. he's just finished off his cocktail and looks ready for another. Wellington, you may have a silly hat, but can you out-cool James Bond?
No, thought not.
Here he is again, looking a bit shaken, but totally unstirred.
Credit for picture of Welling ton statue :
Statue of Wellington, mounted, Glasgow - DSC06285" by Rept0n1x - Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Commons
Thursday, 17 September 2015
Well he would, wouldn't he?
WHERE'S MANDY RICE-DAVIES WHEN YOU NEED HER?
So the head of a government agency wants greater powers and access to more information about us all and, one suspects, maybe a bit more on his budget to undertake all this extra work? He claims there are far more terrorist threats being detected, but can't offer us any evidence for this because, you know, "security". And the BBC just goes along with it and doesn't challenge him.
Was there ever a better time to adopt this philosophy?
So the head of a government agency wants greater powers and access to more information about us all and, one suspects, maybe a bit more on his budget to undertake all this extra work? He claims there are far more terrorist threats being detected, but can't offer us any evidence for this because, you know, "security". And the BBC just goes along with it and doesn't challenge him.
Was there ever a better time to adopt this philosophy?
Tuesday, 8 September 2015
My 2015 Fringe Top Ten
REALLY? A TOP TEN WITHOUT MARK THOMAS?
For the past two years I've come up with a list of the ten Edinburgh Festival shows I enjoyed most and here's the 2015 selection. But with a difference. Looking back at those previous posts I can see a pattern emerging. Every year we go to see a Mark Thomas show, every year he's simply brilliant, every year he'd be in my top ten list. And that could get a bit dull, so this year there's no mention of Mark Thomas in this post. Not even to say what a genius Mark Thomas is.
Instead this year's list will be restricted to people I haven't been to see before, or have only seen in a different context. So that means that some of my favourite acts of this August - the likes of Stewart Lee, Aidan Goatley, Jess Thom and Mark Thomas - won't be cropping up in the following spiel.
As before I'm not going to try to put the shows into any ranking order. They were all superb, all memorable in their varying ways, so the order below is simply the order in which I went to see them (and I've provided links to my reviews if you're interested). If you get the opportunity to see any of them you won't be disappointed.
The first new (to me) act to make a big impression was The Big Bite Sized Breakfast Show. Food and coffee are a good way to start a morning show, followed by five mini-plays in one hour. The acting was excellent, the laughs frequent. What surprised most was ability of the writers to manage to say something interesting, albeit at a surface level, on a wide variety of topics in such short periods of time. So good was the experience that we went back later in the month to see another of the three 'menus' being offered. And it didn't disappoint.
Number two on the list left a lasting impression. Whenever anyone asked us to recommend a show we'd already seen the words 'George Egg' always popped out first. This was not only an extremely funny and imaginative show, but it managed to smell and taste good too. Watching someone cook a three course meal using hotel room implements is both surreal and one of those why-hasn't-it-been-done-before? moments. It's a beautifully structured and deeply engrossing hour of entertainment and an eye opener when you see how little we make of the resources we find around us. I keep on wondering how Mr Egg is going to follow it up next year.
For number three I'm back with drama, albeit this time a more conventional two handed play. Performed by Culture Clash Theatre, Hannah and Hanna was moving, involving and relevant, beautifully rendered by the two young actors. When you see over sixty shows in around three weeks some will inevitably fade from the memory. But even now my mental images of H&H remain strong, and the sense that I could easily sit through another performance and still find much that was new in the experience.
And now for something completely different. Hotel Paradiso from the German company Family Floez. Set in an Alpine hotel lobby an array of characters flit in and out of the action with impressive choreography and timing. There is no dialogue, the actors wear masks throughout, and the physical comedy is often good old fashioned slapstick. It's hilarious, absorbing, using body language to convey an entire storyline. And the biggest surprise comes at the end when you find out that those endless hotel guests etc. were all portrayed by just four people. Unforgettable.
Number five is a bit of a cheat as it's two shows, but one man. What I Learned From Johnny Bevan is a one man coming of age drama that sticks pins in our idiotic class system, a powerfully poetic work. Which is no coincidence as the writer/performer is Luke Wright whose other show sees him reciting his poetry of everyday life, with wit and panache. Wright has the makings of being a star performer and is a pleasure to watch in either of the guises offered up.
An Australian next. I can't recall what prompted me to decide to see this show, but I'm so glad I followed whatever serendipitous instinct was driving me that day. Sarah Kendall is not only very funny, but an excellent storyteller. Fact or fiction, her tale has something to say about the choices we make in life and their consequences. One of the finds of the month.
Another bit of cheating. We have seen Mark Steel before, but that was recording a radio show, so I feel able to include this stand up show as something different. Anyway, he was bloody brilliant. Telling the story of his search for his birth parents (he was adopted) Steel, who often gets confused with fellow left wing London comedian Mark Thomas, exudes compassion, humanity, cynicism and some enjoyably vicious drollery as he relates his tale. There are plenty of surprises along the way but Mark is always realistic about his discoveries and there are none of the faux hysterics so beloved of Who Do You Thing You Are? on TV. A lesson in how to remain grounded.
Number eight is also, surprise, surprise, a comedian renowned for their left of centre commentaries upon the world. Like her husband, the wonderful Stewart Lee, Bridget Christie finds oblique angles from which to skewer pretension, injustice and convention. Ranting doesn't get any funnier, or more thought provoking, than this.
Character comedy next. Tom Binns delivered three very different personalities, the linking factor being his ability to poke fun at various showbiz stereotypes. A master at engaging with his audience, Binns gives his characters an illusory reality whilst letting the audience in on the joke. One of the funniest hours of the month.
Finally there's one more stand up show, one more comedian with a story to tell. Mel Moon's verbal memoir has a serious core to it. Diagnosed with an illness which means she's constantly at risk of death, Moon tells of the dark moments that knowledge took her to, but which also encouraged her to write a stand up show about her experiences. If I'm told that a show I'm about to see is 'uplifting' my natural cynicism will probably express itself with two fingers down my throat. So it was some achievement that I walked out knowing I'd just seen something very positive, even inspirational. And also very funny. I laughed. A lot. You would too.
So that was then, roll on August 2016. And I think I just about managed to get away with not mentioning Mark Thomas.
For the past two years I've come up with a list of the ten Edinburgh Festival shows I enjoyed most and here's the 2015 selection. But with a difference. Looking back at those previous posts I can see a pattern emerging. Every year we go to see a Mark Thomas show, every year he's simply brilliant, every year he'd be in my top ten list. And that could get a bit dull, so this year there's no mention of Mark Thomas in this post. Not even to say what a genius Mark Thomas is.
Instead this year's list will be restricted to people I haven't been to see before, or have only seen in a different context. So that means that some of my favourite acts of this August - the likes of Stewart Lee, Aidan Goatley, Jess Thom and Mark Thomas - won't be cropping up in the following spiel.
As before I'm not going to try to put the shows into any ranking order. They were all superb, all memorable in their varying ways, so the order below is simply the order in which I went to see them (and I've provided links to my reviews if you're interested). If you get the opportunity to see any of them you won't be disappointed.
The first new (to me) act to make a big impression was The Big Bite Sized Breakfast Show. Food and coffee are a good way to start a morning show, followed by five mini-plays in one hour. The acting was excellent, the laughs frequent. What surprised most was ability of the writers to manage to say something interesting, albeit at a surface level, on a wide variety of topics in such short periods of time. So good was the experience that we went back later in the month to see another of the three 'menus' being offered. And it didn't disappoint.
Number two on the list left a lasting impression. Whenever anyone asked us to recommend a show we'd already seen the words 'George Egg' always popped out first. This was not only an extremely funny and imaginative show, but it managed to smell and taste good too. Watching someone cook a three course meal using hotel room implements is both surreal and one of those why-hasn't-it-been-done-before? moments. It's a beautifully structured and deeply engrossing hour of entertainment and an eye opener when you see how little we make of the resources we find around us. I keep on wondering how Mr Egg is going to follow it up next year.
For number three I'm back with drama, albeit this time a more conventional two handed play. Performed by Culture Clash Theatre, Hannah and Hanna was moving, involving and relevant, beautifully rendered by the two young actors. When you see over sixty shows in around three weeks some will inevitably fade from the memory. But even now my mental images of H&H remain strong, and the sense that I could easily sit through another performance and still find much that was new in the experience.
And now for something completely different. Hotel Paradiso from the German company Family Floez. Set in an Alpine hotel lobby an array of characters flit in and out of the action with impressive choreography and timing. There is no dialogue, the actors wear masks throughout, and the physical comedy is often good old fashioned slapstick. It's hilarious, absorbing, using body language to convey an entire storyline. And the biggest surprise comes at the end when you find out that those endless hotel guests etc. were all portrayed by just four people. Unforgettable.
Number five is a bit of a cheat as it's two shows, but one man. What I Learned From Johnny Bevan is a one man coming of age drama that sticks pins in our idiotic class system, a powerfully poetic work. Which is no coincidence as the writer/performer is Luke Wright whose other show sees him reciting his poetry of everyday life, with wit and panache. Wright has the makings of being a star performer and is a pleasure to watch in either of the guises offered up.
An Australian next. I can't recall what prompted me to decide to see this show, but I'm so glad I followed whatever serendipitous instinct was driving me that day. Sarah Kendall is not only very funny, but an excellent storyteller. Fact or fiction, her tale has something to say about the choices we make in life and their consequences. One of the finds of the month.
Another bit of cheating. We have seen Mark Steel before, but that was recording a radio show, so I feel able to include this stand up show as something different. Anyway, he was bloody brilliant. Telling the story of his search for his birth parents (he was adopted) Steel, who often gets confused with fellow left wing London comedian Mark Thomas, exudes compassion, humanity, cynicism and some enjoyably vicious drollery as he relates his tale. There are plenty of surprises along the way but Mark is always realistic about his discoveries and there are none of the faux hysterics so beloved of Who Do You Thing You Are? on TV. A lesson in how to remain grounded.
Number eight is also, surprise, surprise, a comedian renowned for their left of centre commentaries upon the world. Like her husband, the wonderful Stewart Lee, Bridget Christie finds oblique angles from which to skewer pretension, injustice and convention. Ranting doesn't get any funnier, or more thought provoking, than this.
Character comedy next. Tom Binns delivered three very different personalities, the linking factor being his ability to poke fun at various showbiz stereotypes. A master at engaging with his audience, Binns gives his characters an illusory reality whilst letting the audience in on the joke. One of the funniest hours of the month.
Finally there's one more stand up show, one more comedian with a story to tell. Mel Moon's verbal memoir has a serious core to it. Diagnosed with an illness which means she's constantly at risk of death, Moon tells of the dark moments that knowledge took her to, but which also encouraged her to write a stand up show about her experiences. If I'm told that a show I'm about to see is 'uplifting' my natural cynicism will probably express itself with two fingers down my throat. So it was some achievement that I walked out knowing I'd just seen something very positive, even inspirational. And also very funny. I laughed. A lot. You would too.
So that was then, roll on August 2016. And I think I just about managed to get away with not mentioning Mark Thomas.
Friday, 4 September 2015
A different Fringe. With a twist.
AN ODDITY OF AN AUGUST
August in Edinburgh means Festival time. And for us that means three and a bit weeks of going to Fringe shows. In the end we managed to take in 62 shows, most of them excellent. We could have tried for just one more on the final day, but I think we'd hit an entertainment wall by then. Not to mention suffering from 'Fringe arse'. Comfy seats are a novelty in Fringe venues.
So we had a great time, but there were a couple of reasons why it wasn't our usual Fringe experience. The first was entirely self inflicted. Just for something to do I've started posting reviews of all shows, gigs and films I go to on my other blog. Easy enough most of the time, but it became a bit of a challenge during those three weeks. Not that it began to feel like work at all, that would be stupid, but on the days when we saw four or even five shows it did take a fair bit of time to knock them out.
The challenge was all the greater because of the second reason. About two days in I started to feel like I had a bit of a cold. No worries. Except for some reason that decided to develop into a chest infection, then my wife got the same, then I started to feel better only for it to come back again even worse than before. I, we, spent most of August struggling to breathe properly and, embarrassingly, trying not to cough during shows (thank goodness for comedy - you can always cough when everyone else is laughing!), with my worst experience being at the Blueflint gig. Not only did they decide to come up into the audience to do an acoustic number, but the lead vocalist stood six feet away from me. Guess when a coughing fit decided to hit me....?
Still, I'm not after any sympathy - we did see those 62 and had a fantastic time. I'll be posting my personal top ten in the next few days. And I still haven't mentioned the oddest moment of the whole Fringe, one that will make it stand out in my mind for years.
Our penultimate show was Joanna Neary. Not one we'd booked ourselves, but a friend had kindly bought us tickets in return for a favour. During the show Joanna indulged in a bit of audience participation and I was one of the people she talked to. Having got her head around my name (eventually) she asked me questions and had a laugh with my answers. 'Blyth' got uttered about ten times. I hadn't anticipated there would be consequences.
At the end of the show a man came up to me and asked if I was Blyth Crawford. Regular readers will be aware I only returned to live in Edinburgh last year after thirty five years down south, so I don't know a lot of people here yet. For about a tenth of a second my brain thought this had to be someone who remembered my name from School or uni, but he was clearly far too young for that to be possible. Maybe he had been at one of the places I worked before I left?
But no, this was Gary Bainbridge, a Liverpool journalist I've had Twitter conversations with a few times, but never encountered in real life. This was his first of only two nights in the city, he just happened to be at the same show that somebody else had bought our tickets for, I just happened to be one of only two audience members who got their name called out, and I just happen to have a weird name that you don't come across very often. I think that counts as odd.
Nice to meet you Gary. Even if it was somewhere on the extreme edge of coincidence.
August in Edinburgh means Festival time. And for us that means three and a bit weeks of going to Fringe shows. In the end we managed to take in 62 shows, most of them excellent. We could have tried for just one more on the final day, but I think we'd hit an entertainment wall by then. Not to mention suffering from 'Fringe arse'. Comfy seats are a novelty in Fringe venues.
So we had a great time, but there were a couple of reasons why it wasn't our usual Fringe experience. The first was entirely self inflicted. Just for something to do I've started posting reviews of all shows, gigs and films I go to on my other blog. Easy enough most of the time, but it became a bit of a challenge during those three weeks. Not that it began to feel like work at all, that would be stupid, but on the days when we saw four or even five shows it did take a fair bit of time to knock them out.
The challenge was all the greater because of the second reason. About two days in I started to feel like I had a bit of a cold. No worries. Except for some reason that decided to develop into a chest infection, then my wife got the same, then I started to feel better only for it to come back again even worse than before. I, we, spent most of August struggling to breathe properly and, embarrassingly, trying not to cough during shows (thank goodness for comedy - you can always cough when everyone else is laughing!), with my worst experience being at the Blueflint gig. Not only did they decide to come up into the audience to do an acoustic number, but the lead vocalist stood six feet away from me. Guess when a coughing fit decided to hit me....?
Still, I'm not after any sympathy - we did see those 62 and had a fantastic time. I'll be posting my personal top ten in the next few days. And I still haven't mentioned the oddest moment of the whole Fringe, one that will make it stand out in my mind for years.
Our penultimate show was Joanna Neary. Not one we'd booked ourselves, but a friend had kindly bought us tickets in return for a favour. During the show Joanna indulged in a bit of audience participation and I was one of the people she talked to. Having got her head around my name (eventually) she asked me questions and had a laugh with my answers. 'Blyth' got uttered about ten times. I hadn't anticipated there would be consequences.
At the end of the show a man came up to me and asked if I was Blyth Crawford. Regular readers will be aware I only returned to live in Edinburgh last year after thirty five years down south, so I don't know a lot of people here yet. For about a tenth of a second my brain thought this had to be someone who remembered my name from School or uni, but he was clearly far too young for that to be possible. Maybe he had been at one of the places I worked before I left?
But no, this was Gary Bainbridge, a Liverpool journalist I've had Twitter conversations with a few times, but never encountered in real life. This was his first of only two nights in the city, he just happened to be at the same show that somebody else had bought our tickets for, I just happened to be one of only two audience members who got their name called out, and I just happen to have a weird name that you don't come across very often. I think that counts as odd.
Nice to meet you Gary. Even if it was somewhere on the extreme edge of coincidence.
Thursday, 27 August 2015
This is real life, not a Fringe show.
TRAGEDY OR COMEDY?
We were walking along Princes Street today, after grabbing a bit of shopping, and found it increasingly difficult to get through the crowds on the pavement. Now this is Edinburgh, in August, the Festivals are still running at full speed, and one of our major shopping streets is always going to be busy in the early afternoon. But this was different, people stopping dead in their tracks and looking to the sky - and a bit of sunshine in Scotland isn't quite as rare as rumour would have it so it wasn't just the shock of that big yellow thing being there.
The centre point of all the attention was the top of the Scott Monument where a man was hanging on to the outside of the topmost viewing platform. Down below the police had cordoned off the surrounding area, up top one of their number was there, doing his best to convince the man not to jump.
A tragic situation, and not without precedent at this landmark. No surprise then that people would at least want to take a quick look and confirm the situation with their own eyes. But what are you hoping to gain from standing there watching it all unfold? Hopefully the relief of seeing the man climb back to safety.
But what were all those people doing pointing their phones skywards, taking photos of the incident? With so many people now displaying a constant need to share their every movement on social media, how many of these photos were then winging their way on to Facebook or Instagram or Twitter? And why? Is this how ghoulish we've become?
Later on I heard the good news that the poor man had been persuaded to come back inside and was brought back down to earth.
For us personally there was the irony of coming across this scenario after recently seeing a Fringe show that had at it's heart a decision on whether or not to commit suicide. I can only hope that the man today manages to find his own reasons to live just like our comedian did.
We were walking along Princes Street today, after grabbing a bit of shopping, and found it increasingly difficult to get through the crowds on the pavement. Now this is Edinburgh, in August, the Festivals are still running at full speed, and one of our major shopping streets is always going to be busy in the early afternoon. But this was different, people stopping dead in their tracks and looking to the sky - and a bit of sunshine in Scotland isn't quite as rare as rumour would have it so it wasn't just the shock of that big yellow thing being there.
The centre point of all the attention was the top of the Scott Monument where a man was hanging on to the outside of the topmost viewing platform. Down below the police had cordoned off the surrounding area, up top one of their number was there, doing his best to convince the man not to jump.
A tragic situation, and not without precedent at this landmark. No surprise then that people would at least want to take a quick look and confirm the situation with their own eyes. But what are you hoping to gain from standing there watching it all unfold? Hopefully the relief of seeing the man climb back to safety.
But what were all those people doing pointing their phones skywards, taking photos of the incident? With so many people now displaying a constant need to share their every movement on social media, how many of these photos were then winging their way on to Facebook or Instagram or Twitter? And why? Is this how ghoulish we've become?
Later on I heard the good news that the poor man had been persuaded to come back inside and was brought back down to earth.
For us personally there was the irony of coming across this scenario after recently seeing a Fringe show that had at it's heart a decision on whether or not to commit suicide. I can only hope that the man today manages to find his own reasons to live just like our comedian did.
Sunday, 9 August 2015
How to laugh at a Fringe show
HOW TO LAUGH AT THE FRINGE
It's been a few years since we got to one, but we were in the audience for several recordings of the classic Radio Four comedy series, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. In his introductory remarks the producer always tells the crowd that there may be times when you hear one of the panel say something and you're not sure if it's funny or not. If this happens, give them the benefit of the doubt....
Of course he wants us to do this so there's a good laughter track for the radio show, audience reaction being a critical element in a decent aural comedy. (The cynic in me thinks it's also to save a bit of extra work in the editing....) Plus it's true that the more you laugh, the more likely you are to continue laughing, and the noise gives added inspiration to the comedians themselves, a true virtuous circle.
Much the same applies to being in a Fringe audience, and even more so if the number of you sitting facing the person behind the mike has failed to climb above single figures. So there are two types of laughter you need to have ready. There's the genuine, just-can't-stop-myself, hilarity induced laugh. The one you go to comedy shows to experience, the one that releases all those lovely endorphins and gives you a high, the one that results in you walking out of the room clutching your chest because it hurt so much to laugh.
Then there's the other kind. The benefit-of-the-doubt kind. When you can see that the person up there is really, really trying and just needs a bit of encouragement to get into their funnybone rhythm. When you can feel that something went a bit amiss with the joke but it really could have been good enough. When you can't help but like them even though they're not making you laugh. When it gets so bad you just have to laugh out loud to try and get through it....
And if the total of number one type laughs exceeds the number twos then you're laughing. But too many number twos, as with other areas in life, is a sign all is not well.
So far so good for our Fringe to date. Only one show so far where the number twos threatened to overwhelm the ones (that may be an image you won't want to dwell on), and even that had enough moments to feel like it had been just about enjoyable enough. Tonight we know not what laughing challenge we face. The comedian approached us a couple of days ago, we got chatting, and she said we were just the kind of 'jolly people' she needed at her show when the reviewers were in. (Yes, I do know she says that to everyone, but, hey, we got a free ticket. And we're easily flattered.) In return for the ticket we are there to give her a few number twos and help loosen up the audience, in case they are one of those crowds that feel they need permission to laugh. We're there to give our friendly comic a boost when she hears our amusement at her lines. We're there because - did I mention the free ticket?
Will it be a show dominated by twos or ones? You can find out when I write my review on here later today.
It's been a few years since we got to one, but we were in the audience for several recordings of the classic Radio Four comedy series, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. In his introductory remarks the producer always tells the crowd that there may be times when you hear one of the panel say something and you're not sure if it's funny or not. If this happens, give them the benefit of the doubt....
Of course he wants us to do this so there's a good laughter track for the radio show, audience reaction being a critical element in a decent aural comedy. (The cynic in me thinks it's also to save a bit of extra work in the editing....) Plus it's true that the more you laugh, the more likely you are to continue laughing, and the noise gives added inspiration to the comedians themselves, a true virtuous circle.
Much the same applies to being in a Fringe audience, and even more so if the number of you sitting facing the person behind the mike has failed to climb above single figures. So there are two types of laughter you need to have ready. There's the genuine, just-can't-stop-myself, hilarity induced laugh. The one you go to comedy shows to experience, the one that releases all those lovely endorphins and gives you a high, the one that results in you walking out of the room clutching your chest because it hurt so much to laugh.
Then there's the other kind. The benefit-of-the-doubt kind. When you can see that the person up there is really, really trying and just needs a bit of encouragement to get into their funnybone rhythm. When you can feel that something went a bit amiss with the joke but it really could have been good enough. When you can't help but like them even though they're not making you laugh. When it gets so bad you just have to laugh out loud to try and get through it....
And if the total of number one type laughs exceeds the number twos then you're laughing. But too many number twos, as with other areas in life, is a sign all is not well.
So far so good for our Fringe to date. Only one show so far where the number twos threatened to overwhelm the ones (that may be an image you won't want to dwell on), and even that had enough moments to feel like it had been just about enjoyable enough. Tonight we know not what laughing challenge we face. The comedian approached us a couple of days ago, we got chatting, and she said we were just the kind of 'jolly people' she needed at her show when the reviewers were in. (Yes, I do know she says that to everyone, but, hey, we got a free ticket. And we're easily flattered.) In return for the ticket we are there to give her a few number twos and help loosen up the audience, in case they are one of those crowds that feel they need permission to laugh. We're there to give our friendly comic a boost when she hears our amusement at her lines. We're there because - did I mention the free ticket?
Will it be a show dominated by twos or ones? You can find out when I write my review on here later today.
Thursday, 6 August 2015
Let down at not being let down by the Fringe
DISAPPOINTED AT NOT BEING DISAPPOINTED
Partly as a hobby, partly as a bit of a challenge, I decided, earlier this year, that I'd have a go at writing a review of every gig, show, play and film I go to, and post them on my other blog. Knowing that, once August arrived, I would be committing myself to a fair bit of 'work'.
There's no pretence I have any degree of expertise in any of the fields I'm critiquing, these are just my views on what I've seen. I've tried to be as honest as possible, even if that meant being heavily critical of someone I might like as a person. If just a few people find one of these posts helps point them towards something new they'll enjoy, or helps them avoid something awful, then I'll feel it's been of use.
So it's important that I do reflect the negative as well as the positive. Nobody is going to place any trust in a review blog that simply heaps praise on each and every event covered. Last night I wrote about Nina Conti, a show that was hilarious overall, but had a couple of weak spots and I made sure I mentioned them too.
But what to write on a day like today. Three shows, three great experiences, three I'd happily see again. I can make minor carping noises about one, because it was the first performance and clearly it needed a little more familiarity, but that will be there within days. Otherwise.... it was all just bloody brilliant. Honest.
Roll on the day when I see something a bit shit again and I can regain some credibility.
What a fabulous day,
All warm and sunny,
Three great shows,
They were all very funny
Though I would look better
And less of a tit
If even one
Had been just a bit shit
Partly as a hobby, partly as a bit of a challenge, I decided, earlier this year, that I'd have a go at writing a review of every gig, show, play and film I go to, and post them on my other blog. Knowing that, once August arrived, I would be committing myself to a fair bit of 'work'.
There's no pretence I have any degree of expertise in any of the fields I'm critiquing, these are just my views on what I've seen. I've tried to be as honest as possible, even if that meant being heavily critical of someone I might like as a person. If just a few people find one of these posts helps point them towards something new they'll enjoy, or helps them avoid something awful, then I'll feel it's been of use.
So it's important that I do reflect the negative as well as the positive. Nobody is going to place any trust in a review blog that simply heaps praise on each and every event covered. Last night I wrote about Nina Conti, a show that was hilarious overall, but had a couple of weak spots and I made sure I mentioned them too.
But what to write on a day like today. Three shows, three great experiences, three I'd happily see again. I can make minor carping noises about one, because it was the first performance and clearly it needed a little more familiarity, but that will be there within days. Otherwise.... it was all just bloody brilliant. Honest.
Roll on the day when I see something a bit shit again and I can regain some credibility.
What a fabulous day,
All warm and sunny,
Three great shows,
They were all very funny
Though I would look better
And less of a tit
If even one
Had been just a bit shit
Saturday, 1 August 2015
It's August, in Edinburgh, I'm excited.
WITH ONLY DAYS TO GO....
I first started going to Fringe shows back in 1974. Sadly my long sojourn down south means that it didn't become the annual event I'd have loved it to be, but I've been to a fair number of shows over the decades, and the number has increased greatly since we retired. Last year we hit sixty events, of one sort or another, over the three weeks. But instead of getting blasé about the whole thing I find myself feeling just as excited as ever that August is finally here and our first shows are just a few days away.
Of course the posters have been going up, and the physical preparation of the city taking place, for a few weeks now. So the sense of anticipation starts to grow as the face of Edinburgh slaps on the makeup and gets ready to prostitute itself to the masses once more. Many residents hate it of course, for the huge disruption it brings to their daily lives. And the killjoy tendency has always had a strong Calvinist following up here. I have never been one of them and, despite the over-commercialisation that is synonymous with the twisted society we find ourselves in, still find myself childishly delighted at the prospect of three weeks of shows, fliers and confused looking crowds.
The planning of our Fringe is largely complete, with thirty shows booked so far, plenty of Free Fringe shows still to be slotted into the schedule, and a list of 'possible' to fill in those free moments. Just to make it interesting we have three different groups of people coming to stay with us at various times. But they can find their own shows to go to....
So what do I find myself looking forward to the most? Inevitably there are a few old reliable favourites we'll be back to see again, and who I know won't be a disappointment. That includes just a few names who people might know off telly or radio. And topping that list has to be Mark Thomas. Every year he comes up with something new, something brilliant, that's moving, funny, meaningful, funny, thought provoking and funny. To us he's become unmissable.
I'm excited to be going back to see Stewart Lee, because there's nobody else quite like him as a storyteller, or at highlighting simple truths in a new framework. Plus he despises ukip, so he's definitely one of the good guys.
There are also a few less well known acts that we've been to see before and wouldn't consider not returning to. Austentatious put on an improvised play based on a spoof Jane Austen title put forward by a member of the audience. Obviously they must have some stock routines and situations to fall back on and form the core of that day's production, but it's still impressive the way they take a title they've never heard of before and carry it through the hour. And very funny, especially when things go a bit wrong.
Also the same but different, we'll be back to see Tourette's Hero, aka Jess Thom, delivering Backstage in Biscuit Land. Even if the basic outline of the show won't have changed much Jess' condition guarantees it can never be the same show twice. A major highlight of our 2014 Fringe.
And then there's the Return of the Danish Bagpipe Comedian, one Claus Reiss, with a title that describes exactly what and who he is, and yet manages to still be more eye catching than the myriad contrived names on offer. Lovely guy too. As is Chris Coltrane and sharply political , the Free Fringe answer to Mark Thomas.
And then there's Aidan Goatley. Or as he's also known, Aidan Who? Renowned on the Fringe as the man who is bringing back the same show for the fifth year running. Which either indicates a very serious lack of imagination, or a show that audiences mysteriously fall in love with. It may help that 10 Films With My Dad is a pretty good title. Or that he keeps getting excellent reviews for it, and even invited to put it on in various parts of the globe. But he has promised (again) that this will be it's final year of life. Quite right too, or he may find himself featured in The Archers. He's got another show too, something about goats. Anyone not like goats? Seriously though, he's a lovely man, very funny, and if you don't go and see him (twice) then it's only yourself you're fooling.
I'm also excited about some shows by people who will be entirely new to us. Hannah and Hanna looks like an intriguing take on bigotry and racism in Britain, rather timely given the baying headlines of the media in blowing up events in Calais. Barluath are a band we haven't come across before and look good on YouTube. Last year we were delighted to discover the fabulous Dallahan at the same venue, so here's hoping we are similarly impressed. And Hotel Paradiso is something a bit different, a masked theatrical performance from Germany that looks like providing a sophisticated form of slapstick.
Oh, and George Egg, a man who cooks a meal using items that can be found in a hotel room, and Simon Caine who has another one of these intriguing titles which may or may not be reflected in reality. Anyway, I've just been talking to him on Facebook so I couldn't really leave him out. No pressure Simon.
Finally, there's an aspect of 2014 I'll miss. With only weeks to go before the fateful date of 18 September the Fringe featured several shows giving some take on the referendum to come. We saw several great Indy themed shows, all with a strong Yes bent. That's in the past, but two of the artists we saw dealing with the subject last year, Bruce Fummey and Vladimir McTavish, have shows in which they explore the history of our country and how that reflects on our present. The independence theme is still alive and well....
Roll on Wednesday and out first show. Just need to complete a bit more stamina work first.
PS I'll be attempting to post a review of every show I go to on my other blog so if you're coming to Edinburgh this month and want to know what I've seen that's good, or bad, then do give me a follow. I'll also be posting links to the reviews on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.
I first started going to Fringe shows back in 1974. Sadly my long sojourn down south means that it didn't become the annual event I'd have loved it to be, but I've been to a fair number of shows over the decades, and the number has increased greatly since we retired. Last year we hit sixty events, of one sort or another, over the three weeks. But instead of getting blasé about the whole thing I find myself feeling just as excited as ever that August is finally here and our first shows are just a few days away.
Of course the posters have been going up, and the physical preparation of the city taking place, for a few weeks now. So the sense of anticipation starts to grow as the face of Edinburgh slaps on the makeup and gets ready to prostitute itself to the masses once more. Many residents hate it of course, for the huge disruption it brings to their daily lives. And the killjoy tendency has always had a strong Calvinist following up here. I have never been one of them and, despite the over-commercialisation that is synonymous with the twisted society we find ourselves in, still find myself childishly delighted at the prospect of three weeks of shows, fliers and confused looking crowds.
The planning of our Fringe is largely complete, with thirty shows booked so far, plenty of Free Fringe shows still to be slotted into the schedule, and a list of 'possible' to fill in those free moments. Just to make it interesting we have three different groups of people coming to stay with us at various times. But they can find their own shows to go to....
So what do I find myself looking forward to the most? Inevitably there are a few old reliable favourites we'll be back to see again, and who I know won't be a disappointment. That includes just a few names who people might know off telly or radio. And topping that list has to be Mark Thomas. Every year he comes up with something new, something brilliant, that's moving, funny, meaningful, funny, thought provoking and funny. To us he's become unmissable.
I'm excited to be going back to see Stewart Lee, because there's nobody else quite like him as a storyteller, or at highlighting simple truths in a new framework. Plus he despises ukip, so he's definitely one of the good guys.
There are also a few less well known acts that we've been to see before and wouldn't consider not returning to. Austentatious put on an improvised play based on a spoof Jane Austen title put forward by a member of the audience. Obviously they must have some stock routines and situations to fall back on and form the core of that day's production, but it's still impressive the way they take a title they've never heard of before and carry it through the hour. And very funny, especially when things go a bit wrong.
Also the same but different, we'll be back to see Tourette's Hero, aka Jess Thom, delivering Backstage in Biscuit Land. Even if the basic outline of the show won't have changed much Jess' condition guarantees it can never be the same show twice. A major highlight of our 2014 Fringe.
And then there's the Return of the Danish Bagpipe Comedian, one Claus Reiss, with a title that describes exactly what and who he is, and yet manages to still be more eye catching than the myriad contrived names on offer. Lovely guy too. As is Chris Coltrane and sharply political , the Free Fringe answer to Mark Thomas.
And then there's Aidan Goatley. Or as he's also known, Aidan Who? Renowned on the Fringe as the man who is bringing back the same show for the fifth year running. Which either indicates a very serious lack of imagination, or a show that audiences mysteriously fall in love with. It may help that 10 Films With My Dad is a pretty good title. Or that he keeps getting excellent reviews for it, and even invited to put it on in various parts of the globe. But he has promised (again) that this will be it's final year of life. Quite right too, or he may find himself featured in The Archers. He's got another show too, something about goats. Anyone not like goats? Seriously though, he's a lovely man, very funny, and if you don't go and see him (twice) then it's only yourself you're fooling.
I'm also excited about some shows by people who will be entirely new to us. Hannah and Hanna looks like an intriguing take on bigotry and racism in Britain, rather timely given the baying headlines of the media in blowing up events in Calais. Barluath are a band we haven't come across before and look good on YouTube. Last year we were delighted to discover the fabulous Dallahan at the same venue, so here's hoping we are similarly impressed. And Hotel Paradiso is something a bit different, a masked theatrical performance from Germany that looks like providing a sophisticated form of slapstick.
Oh, and George Egg, a man who cooks a meal using items that can be found in a hotel room, and Simon Caine who has another one of these intriguing titles which may or may not be reflected in reality. Anyway, I've just been talking to him on Facebook so I couldn't really leave him out. No pressure Simon.
Finally, there's an aspect of 2014 I'll miss. With only weeks to go before the fateful date of 18 September the Fringe featured several shows giving some take on the referendum to come. We saw several great Indy themed shows, all with a strong Yes bent. That's in the past, but two of the artists we saw dealing with the subject last year, Bruce Fummey and Vladimir McTavish, have shows in which they explore the history of our country and how that reflects on our present. The independence theme is still alive and well....
Roll on Wednesday and out first show. Just need to complete a bit more stamina work first.
PS I'll be attempting to post a review of every show I go to on my other blog so if you're coming to Edinburgh this month and want to know what I've seen that's good, or bad, then do give me a follow. I'll also be posting links to the reviews on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.
Wednesday, 29 July 2015
Of Salmond and Corbyn
POLITICS FOR PEOPLE WHO DON'T UNDERSTAND POLITICS
I'm back to having a rant again, this time about two aspects of current political discourse which are really getting my goat.
Yes, Alex Salmond did, quite clearly, say that last year's Indy Referendum was a 'once in a lifetime opportunity'. A fact which gets trotted out by unionists again and again as evidence that there should be no further reference to the matter for at least twenty five years, and that Salmond and other SNP leaders suggesting a further Indyref appears inevitable within a much shorter timescale shows them out to be the most pernicious of liars and totally untrustworthy.
How many of those same people have been quick to condemn David Cameron for stating that there will be no Indyref before 2020, despite Ruth Davidson saying, in the run up to GE2015, that she had consulted with her Westminster leader and could say categorically that the possibility of a future referendum would not be ruled out at any point? Do I here shouts of "liar, liar" from those self same unionists? Apparently not.
It turns out that politicians, whenever they are seeking our votes, will often indulge in a practice known as 'hyperbole'. Leading to, post ballot, another phenomena known as 'broken promises'. Apparently politicians, and not just from the SNP, have been found exaggerating a wee bit, or even telling outright porkies, just to convince us to vote the way they'd like us to. Who knew, eh?
So maybe it's best if people try not to draw too deep an inference from a single sentence uttered up by a single politician on one particular single occasion. Because if that's how you gather evidence to back up your opinions then there's a fair chance that you'll end up sounding like a complete arse.
And on to rant part two, again focusing on a phrase that seems to be doing the rounds of all those with a singular fixation. In this case, on the electoral chances of one Jeremy Corbyn. The man who has been the surprise hit of the Labour leadership campaign, despite having been included either to demonstrate the breadth of opinion within the party, or as a token to keep the more left thinking elements in their place.
But Corbyn and his supporters haven't read the carefully prepared neoliberal script that was supposed to anoint the coming of the second Blair. Far from being the token entry he has suddenly become the bookies favourite to win, and the Red Tory faction of the party are furious. "Corbyn is unelectable" they say, appearing to forget that he's looking a strong possibility to win this thing they're having called an election....
But no, this time they mean he couldn't lead the party majority in a Westminster election, because he's too 'left wing' for the electorate. And here's the bit that inspired this rant. "Look what happened in '83" they'll say - that proves it. Really? So '83, '83, '83 is being trotted out everywhere.
If a week is a long time in politics what does that make three decades? The world is a very different place to the one that saw off Michael Foot. Who, even five years ago, would have predicted the rise of Syriza and Podemos? Who, less than twelve months ago, would have predicted the landslide SNP victory in May which returned the 56 MPs who appear to be having to act as the opposition in Westminster, since Labour have all but given up?
The SNP campaigned on anti-austerity platform, similar to Mr Corbyn, and did very. very well out of it, thank you very much. To the point where there were many voters in England wished they had the chance to vote for the party. And let's not forget who was the star of the party leaders' debates, and the only one of the bunch to have positive personal approval ratings going into the election. One Nicola Sturgeon of course. OK, so Jeremy may lack the First Minister's charisma, but much of the public would warm to a conviction politician who knows what direction he wanst to take and speaks up on behalf of the oppressed classes.
If Corbyn is genuinely unelectable it isn't because of his policies. A huge proportion of the population support rail renationalisation for instance. No, the real enemy he would be fighting isn't voter opinion as such. It's the ways in which that opinion will be twisted against him by an almost entirely right wing press. I couldn't put it any better than Frankie Boyle does : "It’s worth remembering that in the press, public opinion is often used interchangeably with media opinion, as if the public was somehow much the same as a group of radically right wing billionaire sociopaths."
You can see it happening already. Even the Guardian feels a need to mention that Corbyn has been seen wearing a 'Lenin Cap'. Wasn't that the same cap the Beatles wore on an early album cover? Why isn't it a Beatles cap? Or, more to the point, what's his bloody cap, whatever shape it might be, got to do with his politics? Nothing is the answer, so why does it get a mention? Because sneaking in words like Lenin or Marx, however inappropriate the context, is the media version of going "look out or the bogeyman will get you" and hoping the children are scared into being good. Except that we're supposed to be the children....
If Jeremy Corbyn is considered unelectable, as they put it, doesn't that highlight the most serious flaw in our political process? The main stream media is the greatest democratic deficit we face. In Scotland that's been partially overcome through the development of online news and opinion sources that cover a wider spectrum of views. England could do with much the same.
Turns out this rant had three targets to go for!
Saturday, 25 July 2015
Creative by proxy.
THE VICARIOUS LIFESTYLE
Try, try and try again.
Or, alternatively.
Recognise your limitations.
Ambition versus pragmatism, desire placed against common sense, devil may care or down to earth?
I sometimes think that it's a shame I never got the chance to take any music lessons at school. Maybe I'd have unlocked a talent that has, instead, now been dormant for decades. And then I remember my efforts to learn musical instrument. Several efforts, over several years. And I know you can't describe as 'dormant' something which doesn't exist.
The sad fact is that, no matter how much I might try, no matter how much I might want it to be true, I could no more be a musician than Dudley Moore's one legged man could have landed the role of Tarzan. (With apologies to younger readers....)
I did spend several years treading the boards, putting myself in front of audiences and pretending to be someone else. I quite liked appearing as someone, anyone, else, because they were usually an improvement on who I felt I was. There were plenty of roles I took on, even the occasional lead. But small amateur dramatic groups are always notoriously short of youngish men, so my successes were largely by default. When I later joined a much larger group, playing to much larger crowds, the bigger parts were suddenly that bit less available to me. I could blame the fact that I was no longer one of the youngsters, as middle age suddenly seemed imminent, but I know that's not the reason. I simply wasn't good enough. Competent, reasonably reliable at this level, but that was it. Recognise your limitations.
I enjoy writing (or why else would I be sticking these posts up in public?). Far more than was the case with music, I have made countless efforts to turn myself into the writer my imagination tells me I could be. Deserve to be, if I'm having a good day. Creative writing courses came and went. The search for subject matter has ebbed and flowed like the tides down in Newhaven Harbour. There have been countless beginnings, the occasional middle, and hardly a single ending. And those felt imposed rather than natural. If I open up the folder with stories I've begun and never completed there's a lot of scrolling through screens to do.
I can manage to knock out a reasonable bit of comic poetry for special occasions when required. Very much written to be spoken rather than read though. It made an amusing alternative to the usual boring speeches and contrived jokes that other managers delivered at leaving dos and the like. (I had plenty of contrived jokes too, but you can get away with them when they rhyme!) But personalised poems are dead and buried after their one-off performance.
Visual arts? Ha, ha, not a chance. Even my stick men look as if they have life threatening injuries.
No, I have come to accept that I am not, despite wishes to the contrary, a truly creative person. Which is why living in Edinburgh is such a compensation. If you can't be creative yourself, the next best thing is to satisfy your craving watching people who are genuinely talented. I have become the vicarious creative.
From house concerts to folk clubs to concert venues to theatres to comedy clubs to street acts of all kinds. Not to mention the galleries and arthouse cinemas. There's something going on here all through the year and I intend to make the most of it. Compensation (for being me?).
Then there's the chance to overdose every once in a while. So many events surrounding Xmas and, especially, New Year. The Leith Festival. The International Film Festival. The Meadows Festival. The Jazz & Blues Festival. And, starting in just a couple of weeks from now, the biggest arts festival on the planet.
I might not be creative, but I can create my own happiness from those who are.
From house concerts to folk clubs to concert venues to theatres to comedy clubs to street acts of all kinds. Not to mention the galleries and arthouse cinemas. There's something going on here all through the year and I intend to make the most of it. Compensation (for being me?).
Then there's the chance to overdose every once in a while. So many events surrounding Xmas and, especially, New Year. The Leith Festival. The International Film Festival. The Meadows Festival. The Jazz & Blues Festival. And, starting in just a couple of weeks from now, the biggest arts festival on the planet.
I might not be creative, but I can create my own happiness from those who are.
Thursday, 23 July 2015
Climbing on to the wagon?
WHAT'S THE PROBLEM WITH ALCOHOL?
There are a lot of different answers to that question of course. The addiction, the violence, the loutish behaviour, liver damage. All sorts of reasons why alcohol is a problem in our society, all sorts of reasons for regarding it with suspicion.
Despite which it has always played a reasonably significant role in my life. Not a major role, but I've come to enjoy a decent wine, developed a taste for real ale, have often been tempted by a wee dram in the evening. Without alcohol I often feel I would barely function at social occasions. It's been important occasionally, even something of a crutch during a stressful period at work in '99, and has always been around, to some degree or other.
That's now changed, to the point where I almost find it hard to enjoy drinking. This change has only come about this year, and the extent to which I have altered my habits surprises me. It began with the gout. There have been two attacks this year, both early on.
The first was by far the worst, especially as, at the time, I didn't know what the problem was, or how to treat it. Eight days housebound, a week walking with a stick, a further week with a limp that gradually faded away. Three weeks of not being myself, not having the mobility I usually take for granted. And uncertainty over the cause.
I had recovered sufficiently just in time to drive down to Southport for three nights, although pressing the clutch pedal still hurt a bit. The limp only vanished while we were down there. On the first night we ate at the house of friends, and plenty of wine was consumed. The next night we went to the gig that had brought us down there in the first place. A couple of beers with dinner, a couple at the gig itself, and a couple with the band after the show. It was the last occasion this year (and possibly ever?) when I felt a bit pissed.
On the final night we went a house warming party, but I was aware I had the long drive back the next day and limited myself to three beers. So I stayed reasonably sober, especially as there was plenty to eat, and was ready to come home.
The drive back was fine. But the now recognisable symptoms returned the next day. This attack wasn't as bad as the first, but I was still housebound, forced to sit with my foot raised, for three days.
Then I got myself to the doctor for the results of my blood test, and went complete with walking stick and pronounced limp. He told me that I almost certainly had gout, explained what that involved, what can cause it, and how to treat it. I then spent a lot of time on the web reading as much as I could about the condition.
For all that it's been know about for centuries, there seems to be very little in the way of scientific knowledge about living with the ailment. It's caused by a build up of uric acid in the body. When that gets too much for the system to deal with it crystallises, usually in the toes and feet, which can result in a lot of pain. And, potentially, if left untreated, a lot of damage to joints.
So what's the treatment? The one thing that science does know is that dehydration is the great enemy. Drink water, drink water, drink water. Then pee out that intake and it's the urination which is lowering the uric acid levels in the body. So I went on a new regime. Drink at least five pints of water per day. Doesn't sound a lot, but it certainly is when taken day after day. Since I began I've maybe only had one or two nights where I've managed to sleep through for five hours or more. Most nights I'm up between three and four am, desperate to relieve my bladder. But that seems a small price to pay compared to what could happen. I'll do whatever I can to avoid any more attacks. They're not only painful, they're bloody inconvenient when you're trying to get out and enjoy life!
So I've followed some of the anecdotal web suggestions as well. Cherry juice, nutmeg and red fruits feature more prominently in my diet (fortunately all things I like). I've cut back on red meat, tried to limit my offal intake, and generally avoid most seafood (although it's scallops which are reputed to be the worst).
And I cut back, drastically, on having the worst possible thing to take when you want to avoid dehydration - alcohol. I have no way of proving it, but it felt like those three nights in a row spent drinking may have been at least partially responsible for that second attack.
So I take my water and I stay off the booze. I've never had a whisky since then, and even though the thought crosses my mind from time to time it never forces itself upon me to the extent that I give in and have a dram. My wife likes the odd glass of wine with some meals, so I join her in a drop. But I have the smaller glass, I fill it less, and sip slowly. Because I'm always drinking water as well, so there's less need to go swilling it down in the way I would have done only a few months ago.
If I do have a pint when I'm out it's now always accompanied by a pint of water. And, having already been drinking water throughout the day, that's enough to fill me up. The only time I've managed more was in a pub in London when we were drinking with friends. And there I struggled to finish off three pints - as much as anything because that meant three pints of water as well....
When Barbara is away I no longer treat myself to the occasional pint in a pub, or a gin and tonic at home. When I go to House Ggigs I no longer take any beer along. When we do have wine I find myself less and less able to drink it. On succeeding days I avoid it, which has sometimes meant a bottle lasting three days. Unheard of in the old days (of 2014....) when I doubt an opened bottle would ever last three hours.
I stop drinking it for several reasons. Obviously I want to avoid any risk that I wake up with a painful foot. But I am also finding that, because my intake has reduced so greatly, I get light headed that much quicker, and it's no longer a feeling I like. But the biggest change, one that is worrying considering how much wine remains in the rack and the number of bottles in the cupboard behind me, is that I no longer actively enjoy drinking.
It's OK with food. But as soon as the meal is over I find it hard to continue. It doesn't even taste nice. Tonight I served up the final bottle of what has been my favourite wine for several years, Petillant de Syrah. It tasted good. To start with. I didn't drink it at the rate I used to (when it almost went down like water), and once the food was gone I found I was actually having to force myself to drink it. The taste no longer pleases me.
Is this a permanent state? It's hard to imagine otherwise, because I suspect I'm going to remain on this five pints of water a day lark for the rest of my life. Unless I get a blood test result that says I'm 'cured - but I'm not sure if such a thing is actually possible.
What a peculiar outcome to an illness.
Sunday, 19 July 2015
Saxophone fail?
CITY OF FESTIVALS, CITY OF RAIN
Following on from yesterday's Mardi Gras, today saw the Festival Parade come down The Mound to a Princes Street lined with spectators. Although we've already had the Film Festival, and the Jazz Festival has just got under way, this event is a kind of marker to recognise the Festival season in the city. With the big one just a few weeks away now.
The colourful line up took about forty minutes to shimmy past our viewing spot, and included drumming bands, samba bands, jazz bands, dancers, acrobats, a lengthy Chinese dragon and an aggressive looking bunch in lemon pyjamas. All ages were included and it had a strong community feel to the activities. Spectacular colours in costumes and make up, flamboyance a given, even a bit of decent music thrown in. And if some of the costumes had an amateurish feel to them that only added to the sense that this was an event that people wanted to be a part of, not just some marketing person's notion of a good time.
Best of all, the event began in strong sunshine, succumbed to a bit of crowd cover, but with no hint of rain. Yet.
For the rest of the afternoon we planned to take in some of the free outdoor jazz available around town. In the Grassmarket we came across a raucous young band playing a mix of jazz, latin, ska and rock and roll. Rumba de Bodas are a seven piece Italian group fronted by a Mediterranean version of Imelda May. What a fabulous strong voice.
A rocking good time under the shadow of the castle was spoiled a bit by arrival of a few drops of rain. Swiftly followed by a downpour. The trees provided a bit of cover, but not enough and much of the crowd headed for the pubs and cafes around. The band saw through their set, but further acts were denied their opportunity. Probably a wise move with all that electrical gear and only a flimsy canopy over the stage.
Still it was fun while it lasted, and it had felt a bit too hot earlier on - there were ginger locals in peril from that burny yellow thing in the sky. So a bit of refreshment was probably overdue. This city likes to provide a good mix of everything.
Following on from yesterday's Mardi Gras, today saw the Festival Parade come down The Mound to a Princes Street lined with spectators. Although we've already had the Film Festival, and the Jazz Festival has just got under way, this event is a kind of marker to recognise the Festival season in the city. With the big one just a few weeks away now.
The colourful line up took about forty minutes to shimmy past our viewing spot, and included drumming bands, samba bands, jazz bands, dancers, acrobats, a lengthy Chinese dragon and an aggressive looking bunch in lemon pyjamas. All ages were included and it had a strong community feel to the activities. Spectacular colours in costumes and make up, flamboyance a given, even a bit of decent music thrown in. And if some of the costumes had an amateurish feel to them that only added to the sense that this was an event that people wanted to be a part of, not just some marketing person's notion of a good time.
Best of all, the event began in strong sunshine, succumbed to a bit of crowd cover, but with no hint of rain. Yet.
For the rest of the afternoon we planned to take in some of the free outdoor jazz available around town. In the Grassmarket we came across a raucous young band playing a mix of jazz, latin, ska and rock and roll. Rumba de Bodas are a seven piece Italian group fronted by a Mediterranean version of Imelda May. What a fabulous strong voice.
A rocking good time under the shadow of the castle was spoiled a bit by arrival of a few drops of rain. Swiftly followed by a downpour. The trees provided a bit of cover, but not enough and much of the crowd headed for the pubs and cafes around. The band saw through their set, but further acts were denied their opportunity. Probably a wise move with all that electrical gear and only a flimsy canopy over the stage.
Still it was fun while it lasted, and it had felt a bit too hot earlier on - there were ginger locals in peril from that burny yellow thing in the sky. So a bit of refreshment was probably overdue. This city likes to provide a good mix of everything.
Saturday, 18 July 2015
Saxophones keep the rain at bay
NEW ORLEANS COMES TO EDINBURGH
Yesterday (the 17th) the 2015 Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival began, and it runs until 26th July. Today the Grassmarket was turned over to the Mardi Gras, a three hour celebration of music.
Despite forecasts of storms across Scotland the event was favoured with near ideal conditions. A stiff breeze kept the clouds scudding across the skies, giving long spells of blue and plenty warmth. The thousands who turned up could be entertained and sunned simultaneously.
Three stages and a marching band area made for plenty choice, as did the variety of musical styles on offer. My favourite were a group of fruitcake Italians who played with the crowd, got them involved, and provided almost as much laughter as foot tapping.
And the whole event was covered by one of my favourite words. Free.
Yesterday (the 17th) the 2015 Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival began, and it runs until 26th July. Today the Grassmarket was turned over to the Mardi Gras, a three hour celebration of music.
Despite forecasts of storms across Scotland the event was favoured with near ideal conditions. A stiff breeze kept the clouds scudding across the skies, giving long spells of blue and plenty warmth. The thousands who turned up could be entertained and sunned simultaneously.
Three stages and a marching band area made for plenty choice, as did the variety of musical styles on offer. My favourite were a group of fruitcake Italians who played with the crowd, got them involved, and provided almost as much laughter as foot tapping.
And the whole event was covered by one of my favourite words. Free.
Friday, 17 July 2015
Thinking of coming to The Fringe?
FIRST TIME FRINGING
A few people have been asking my advice about coming to the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time and, having provided a load of (hopefully) useful information I thought it might be of interest to others making their way here for their first August.
I'm not going to touch on accommodation since, as a resident of the city, I have no experience of what's what. My only suggestions would be to book as many months ahead as possible, and try not to stay too far away from the centre, budget permitting.
And I'm going to stick to talking about The Fringe, with no reference to the International Festival, the Book Festival, or the Politics Festival (or even the Fringe by the Sea a few miles along the coast in North Berwick!). But much of what I'm setting down here applies anyway.
Of course what kind of Festival experience you end up having depends on a huge variety of factors. Your own tastes, budget, the number of days you are able to spend here and how adventurous you are. But if you're baffled where to even begin then the following might just give you a starting point.
WHAT TO SEE
All good things must have a beginning and the best way to plan your time here is to get your hands on the Fringe Programme as early as possible. It comes out in early June.
Which can immediately paralyse the decision making processes. At over 400 pages, and with up to a dozen shows on each page, the first question is usually 'where do I start?'. There are over 3,000 shows scattered across more than 300 venues so paucity of choice is not a problem.
There's also the Fringe website, which begins listing some shows in Spring, so you could choose to book some early and spread the cost of tickets. The website allows you to search for acts if you know some key words for the kind of shows you want to see. Whereas the paper version is probably a better bet if you want to browse and see what catches your eye.
If comedy is your thing you're both in and out of luck, because it's by far the largest section in the programme. You'll see names in there you recognise off the telly, and/or radio, but don't let them distract you too much. Have a look for shows that sound interesting and do a bit of research about their past reviews, maybe see if they're on YouTube.
The Fringe has venues dotted about the city, but the vast majority are in three adjoining areas of the centre. Going from north to south these are
1. The New Town, centred on George Street and Saint Andrews Square. (It's New in that it only dates back to the late 18th century.)
2. The Old Town, centred on the Royal Mile between the Castle and Holyrood.
3. The University district, usually centred on Bristo Square, although for 2015 that's less the case as there's a lot of redevelopment work taking place there. Which means even more activity in George Square than usual.
If you're planning your days I'd suggest trying to stick to shows in one of those areas on each day. Less hassle having to rush from one venue to another. But more on that below.
It all depends on how hard core you want to be - I've known people to do ten shows a day - but cramming shows into every waking hour is only worth the effort if you're here for a couple of days at most. Not only does it become exhausting, but you miss out on so many other aspects of the Fringe experience if you adopt that approach. So I'd recommend only pre-booking a couple of shows each day, some of them from people you have never heard of, and letting fate take a bit of a hand the rest of the time.
Fate can hit you in several ways. You should, at least once while you're here, go for a daytime walk down the High Street, in the pedestrian area running from George IV Bridge down to the Tron Kirk. (This is also where you'll find the Fringe office, so you may be drawn there naturally.) Do plan to allow yourself a bit of time. You'll need it. Because unless the heavens have opened you will be faced with a sizeable crowd, few of whom are looking where they're going. (If you don't like crowds this may not be the place to go, but if you don't like crowds what on earth are you doing in Edinburgh in August?) You will also be confronted by a small army, many of them in outlandish costumes, brandishing fliers at you. You'll be tempted to ignore them. Don't. They are working their butts off to try and get people along to their shows, so at least take the proffered flier, and talk to a few of them along the way. The results can be extremely funny, and fate may feel like nudging you in the direction of their show.
This area also hosts several outdoor stages and performance areas. On a couple there are casts doing short acts aimed at tempting you to come and see their full length offerings. There are music stages with a huge variety of acts appearing, many of them making their living from busking (so don't forget to donate something if you enjoy the performance). And professional street entertainers, usually doing some form of physical comedy. There are a few who do something really spectacular (look out for a Canadian called Stickman), but after years of Fringe going I have decided that there are only so many fire-eating, unicycling jugglers I can take!
Then there are the various Free Fringes running under the overall Fringe banner. Some of their shows are in the big programme, but not all. The two most important are PBH's Free Fringe and the Laughing Horse Free Festival. Although the shows are on their websites it's a good idea to get to one of their venues as soon as you can and pick up their paper programmes.
'Free' is a misnomer of course. It's free to get in the door, but there's a bucket to pay into when you leave, and you put in what you feel the show was worth. So you know the performer(s) will be trying their hardest to entertain you. There's a certain amount of snobbery attached to the Free Fringe from people who say you'll find nothing decent to watch there. Nonsense. In my experience the range of quality, from simply superb to catastrophically crap, is little different from that you'll find in the ticketed shows. I've been to see Phill Jupitus on the free fringe, and this year one of Scotland's top comedians, Janey Godley has chosen this route rather than feeling she's getting ripped off again by one of the big venues. We've found some of our favourite acts this way and the likes of Aidan Goatley, Kelly Kingham and Chris Coltrane are often far funnier than "that guy we know from off Mock the Week". And how you could resist going to see "The Danish Bagpipe Comedian"? (Recommended!) So make sure you leave time to go see some of these people. Oh, and the PBH Fringe also has one of the best venues in the city to visit, the Voodoo Rooms.
Finally I'd suggest a visit to the half price ticket hut on Princes Street. There's a big display showing what's available later that day and it's a good way of discovering someone you never knew you liked.
If I was to distil all this into one aphorism it would be "Don't try to enjoy yourself all the time". Which might sound like strange advice. The fun of the Fringe is finding stuff you never even knew existed. As a rule of thumb I'd say that if at least 10% of what you end up seeing wasn't to your taste, or proved too hard to understand, or was just a bit shit, then you probably haven't been doing it right. Take a few risks in your choice of shows and you'll get a lot more out of your time. Trust me.
Throughout the Fringe period I'll be posting reviews of shows I've seen on my Go Live blog, so if want some recommendations....
GETTING AROUND
Walk. As much as your feet and health and stamina allow. There's a lot to see and some of it might surprise you. Just accept that everywhere you go it will be uphill and into the wind. Even on the way back.
But if you're staying out of town you're lucky that Edinburgh has one of the best bus services around. Worth having a look at the Lothian Buses website before you come and check out which services will be of use - and if your accommodation has a night bus service near by.
The bit that catches out most newcomers is that no change is given on the buses. So you may want to come armed with a good supply of pound coins and 50p pieces. A single fare (any distance) is £1.50, a day ticket allowing unlimited usage on the day) is £4. So if you think you'll take more than two buses that day then grab the second option.
There are a couple of options that can save lugging all that change around. If you have a smartphone there's an app that allows you to buy tickets and flash your phone at the driver as you get on board. Minimum purchase is £10 and you can buy both single and day tickets. This is the Android version. There's also a great app that lets you see how long you will have to wait for the next bus to turn up (although the same info is displayed on Tracker boards at many stops in the city centre). Once again, here's the Android version.
If you're going to be here for five days or more it may be worth going into one of the Lothian Buses Travelshops and getting a Ridacard. A seven day card costs £18, plus £3 for the card itself and having your photo taken. For twenty eight days the charge is £54. You can do the sums yourself. It's the most hassle free way to travel, and you get to keep the card for your next visit (you'll be back).
And when you go to get the card remind yourself this isn't a passport - you're allowed to smile in your photo.
A couple of bits of bus etiquette. Stick your hand out to get your bus to stop or you may see it fly past. And the locals, well most of us, are in the habit of saying thanks to the driver as we get off. It's just what we do here. Join in.
AND FINALLY
Although your main reason for being here is to get to those shows, take a bit of time to find out why Edinburgh is a big tourist attraction throughout the year.
Stand at one of the junctions on George Street and look north to see the Forth glistening and hills of Fife in the distance.
Go and see the Floral Clock (on Princes Street, on the other side of The Mound from the Art Gallery).
Go up Calton Hill for the views (and to stand on the spot where TV journalists love to interview politicians), or climb up the steps inside the Scott Monument.
Walk down Victoria Street, that steep curving chunk of old architecture that seems to feature in every film drama set in the city.
Have fun.
A few people have been asking my advice about coming to the Edinburgh Fringe for the first time and, having provided a load of (hopefully) useful information I thought it might be of interest to others making their way here for their first August.
I'm not going to touch on accommodation since, as a resident of the city, I have no experience of what's what. My only suggestions would be to book as many months ahead as possible, and try not to stay too far away from the centre, budget permitting.
And I'm going to stick to talking about The Fringe, with no reference to the International Festival, the Book Festival, or the Politics Festival (or even the Fringe by the Sea a few miles along the coast in North Berwick!). But much of what I'm setting down here applies anyway.
Of course what kind of Festival experience you end up having depends on a huge variety of factors. Your own tastes, budget, the number of days you are able to spend here and how adventurous you are. But if you're baffled where to even begin then the following might just give you a starting point.
WHAT TO SEE
All good things must have a beginning and the best way to plan your time here is to get your hands on the Fringe Programme as early as possible. It comes out in early June.
Which can immediately paralyse the decision making processes. At over 400 pages, and with up to a dozen shows on each page, the first question is usually 'where do I start?'. There are over 3,000 shows scattered across more than 300 venues so paucity of choice is not a problem.
There's also the Fringe website, which begins listing some shows in Spring, so you could choose to book some early and spread the cost of tickets. The website allows you to search for acts if you know some key words for the kind of shows you want to see. Whereas the paper version is probably a better bet if you want to browse and see what catches your eye.
If comedy is your thing you're both in and out of luck, because it's by far the largest section in the programme. You'll see names in there you recognise off the telly, and/or radio, but don't let them distract you too much. Have a look for shows that sound interesting and do a bit of research about their past reviews, maybe see if they're on YouTube.
The Fringe has venues dotted about the city, but the vast majority are in three adjoining areas of the centre. Going from north to south these are
1. The New Town, centred on George Street and Saint Andrews Square. (It's New in that it only dates back to the late 18th century.)
2. The Old Town, centred on the Royal Mile between the Castle and Holyrood.
3. The University district, usually centred on Bristo Square, although for 2015 that's less the case as there's a lot of redevelopment work taking place there. Which means even more activity in George Square than usual.
If you're planning your days I'd suggest trying to stick to shows in one of those areas on each day. Less hassle having to rush from one venue to another. But more on that below.
It all depends on how hard core you want to be - I've known people to do ten shows a day - but cramming shows into every waking hour is only worth the effort if you're here for a couple of days at most. Not only does it become exhausting, but you miss out on so many other aspects of the Fringe experience if you adopt that approach. So I'd recommend only pre-booking a couple of shows each day, some of them from people you have never heard of, and letting fate take a bit of a hand the rest of the time.
Fate can hit you in several ways. You should, at least once while you're here, go for a daytime walk down the High Street, in the pedestrian area running from George IV Bridge down to the Tron Kirk. (This is also where you'll find the Fringe office, so you may be drawn there naturally.) Do plan to allow yourself a bit of time. You'll need it. Because unless the heavens have opened you will be faced with a sizeable crowd, few of whom are looking where they're going. (If you don't like crowds this may not be the place to go, but if you don't like crowds what on earth are you doing in Edinburgh in August?) You will also be confronted by a small army, many of them in outlandish costumes, brandishing fliers at you. You'll be tempted to ignore them. Don't. They are working their butts off to try and get people along to their shows, so at least take the proffered flier, and talk to a few of them along the way. The results can be extremely funny, and fate may feel like nudging you in the direction of their show.
This area also hosts several outdoor stages and performance areas. On a couple there are casts doing short acts aimed at tempting you to come and see their full length offerings. There are music stages with a huge variety of acts appearing, many of them making their living from busking (so don't forget to donate something if you enjoy the performance). And professional street entertainers, usually doing some form of physical comedy. There are a few who do something really spectacular (look out for a Canadian called Stickman), but after years of Fringe going I have decided that there are only so many fire-eating, unicycling jugglers I can take!
Then there are the various Free Fringes running under the overall Fringe banner. Some of their shows are in the big programme, but not all. The two most important are PBH's Free Fringe and the Laughing Horse Free Festival. Although the shows are on their websites it's a good idea to get to one of their venues as soon as you can and pick up their paper programmes.
'Free' is a misnomer of course. It's free to get in the door, but there's a bucket to pay into when you leave, and you put in what you feel the show was worth. So you know the performer(s) will be trying their hardest to entertain you. There's a certain amount of snobbery attached to the Free Fringe from people who say you'll find nothing decent to watch there. Nonsense. In my experience the range of quality, from simply superb to catastrophically crap, is little different from that you'll find in the ticketed shows. I've been to see Phill Jupitus on the free fringe, and this year one of Scotland's top comedians, Janey Godley has chosen this route rather than feeling she's getting ripped off again by one of the big venues. We've found some of our favourite acts this way and the likes of Aidan Goatley, Kelly Kingham and Chris Coltrane are often far funnier than "that guy we know from off Mock the Week". And how you could resist going to see "The Danish Bagpipe Comedian"? (Recommended!) So make sure you leave time to go see some of these people. Oh, and the PBH Fringe also has one of the best venues in the city to visit, the Voodoo Rooms.
Finally I'd suggest a visit to the half price ticket hut on Princes Street. There's a big display showing what's available later that day and it's a good way of discovering someone you never knew you liked.
If I was to distil all this into one aphorism it would be "Don't try to enjoy yourself all the time". Which might sound like strange advice. The fun of the Fringe is finding stuff you never even knew existed. As a rule of thumb I'd say that if at least 10% of what you end up seeing wasn't to your taste, or proved too hard to understand, or was just a bit shit, then you probably haven't been doing it right. Take a few risks in your choice of shows and you'll get a lot more out of your time. Trust me.
Throughout the Fringe period I'll be posting reviews of shows I've seen on my Go Live blog, so if want some recommendations....
GETTING AROUND
Walk. As much as your feet and health and stamina allow. There's a lot to see and some of it might surprise you. Just accept that everywhere you go it will be uphill and into the wind. Even on the way back.
But if you're staying out of town you're lucky that Edinburgh has one of the best bus services around. Worth having a look at the Lothian Buses website before you come and check out which services will be of use - and if your accommodation has a night bus service near by.
The bit that catches out most newcomers is that no change is given on the buses. So you may want to come armed with a good supply of pound coins and 50p pieces. A single fare (any distance) is £1.50, a day ticket allowing unlimited usage on the day) is £4. So if you think you'll take more than two buses that day then grab the second option.
There are a couple of options that can save lugging all that change around. If you have a smartphone there's an app that allows you to buy tickets and flash your phone at the driver as you get on board. Minimum purchase is £10 and you can buy both single and day tickets. This is the Android version. There's also a great app that lets you see how long you will have to wait for the next bus to turn up (although the same info is displayed on Tracker boards at many stops in the city centre). Once again, here's the Android version.
If you're going to be here for five days or more it may be worth going into one of the Lothian Buses Travelshops and getting a Ridacard. A seven day card costs £18, plus £3 for the card itself and having your photo taken. For twenty eight days the charge is £54. You can do the sums yourself. It's the most hassle free way to travel, and you get to keep the card for your next visit (you'll be back).
And when you go to get the card remind yourself this isn't a passport - you're allowed to smile in your photo.
A couple of bits of bus etiquette. Stick your hand out to get your bus to stop or you may see it fly past. And the locals, well most of us, are in the habit of saying thanks to the driver as we get off. It's just what we do here. Join in.
AND FINALLY
Although your main reason for being here is to get to those shows, take a bit of time to find out why Edinburgh is a big tourist attraction throughout the year.
Stand at one of the junctions on George Street and look north to see the Forth glistening and hills of Fife in the distance.
Go and see the Floral Clock (on Princes Street, on the other side of The Mound from the Art Gallery).
Go up Calton Hill for the views (and to stand on the spot where TV journalists love to interview politicians), or climb up the steps inside the Scott Monument.
Walk down Victoria Street, that steep curving chunk of old architecture that seems to feature in every film drama set in the city.
Have fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)