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Edinburgh: Last Days

edgelands (64 of 76)

An image of Third Angel’s Pills for Modern Living installation at Edgelands.

I find that I only really want to comment on a couple of the shows that I saw on day four and five, so I have decided to make a C-C-C-OMBO post. Followed by some very short reflections on Edgelands and Hitch.

Day the fourth

(g)host city – St. Antony’s by Kieran Hurley

(g)host city is an invisible festival without a venue. Or, rather, the city is the venue. A selection of audio pieces curated by Laura Cameron Lewis that you can download all of (7.99) or just  the ones you want to do (I downloaded Kieran’s from Bandcamp for £2). St. Antony’s plays out like you’ve found a phone fallen between some rocks in Holyrood Park. As if you picked it up and listened to the first voicemail by mistake and then slowly not been able to stop. I wonder if you could put the piece on a phone just like that? Be sent the location to a lost phone. Pick it up, listen. A small piece for a big place, this is one of my favourite experiences from the fringe. Not just for Kieran’s lovely ear for the idiosyncrasies of dialogue, or the gripping unfolding of increasingly tragic messages that are fated to never reach their receiver, but because Holyrood park, and Edinburgh, is fucking beautiful place. I enjoyed a moment of being embedded rather than transported in it.

2401 Objects – Analogue

Apart from the slightly disconcerting resemblance of one of the actors to a younger Hugh Laurie, I found plenty to enjoy in Analogue’s story of ‘the world’s most famous amnesiac patient’. It felt a lot more drama-y that Lecture Notes on a Death scene, and I don’t think it always benefited from that. (I’m very easily bored of ‘actor voice’, these days). But a really affecting story, told in quite a visually strong way; I liked very much the way the screen moved and wiped away scenes, like the dropping away of memories. I wanted the piece to be smaller though. It felt too big, the sense was of the wide world of scientific enquiry, when I think it should have been closer, more ‘in the head’ of Henry. The most powerful moment was the tying of it down to our bodies – the moment you’re asked to place your hands on your head. I felt like after acknowledging the audience so much at the beginning, it was strange to move into more conventional 4th wall stuff. A really interesting piece that I think could afford to be more tied down.

Day the fifth

The Adventures of Wound Man and Shirley – Chris Goode.

Not sure where to start on this one. THERE WAS JUST TOO MUCH LOVELINESS. Chris is a master of theatrical storytelling, his gentle, open and warm manner fill the Baby Grand and a simple 3 chair set (with associated teenage paraphernalia) becomes the scene of a devastating fire, the threshold of a school’s changing rooms, the back seat of a car, the formica tables of a poor Spud-u-Like imitation. A story about a superhero and a sidekick. Continue reading Edinburgh: Last Days

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Edinburgh: Day the third

a shredded £5 note

It’s late now, and I’ve run out of jokes. Sorry. Or not. Depending on how much you like my jokes.

I didn’t even get a little bit rained on on this day. No even a little bit. I did, however, sit on a bench with the faint whiff of chlorine hanging in the air, wearing goggles and a water polo hat. Enter:

The Time Out – Non Zero One

Part of the Forest Fringe. A piece for 8-12 people (but it has to be an even number) who are informed by a shouty man with quite a magnificent moustache that they are 9 minutes away from a potential glorious victory. The water polo hats that you don at his instructions have discretely hidden headphones, and as the lights fade and the shouty-moustache man slows, a voice begins to speak in your ear. It begins to talk to you, about how strange a situation this is, but that the shouty-man seems so real, maybe we should just go along with it. As time passes this same voice asks you to do or say small things, make eye contact with others around you, reveal simple details about yourselves, shake hands, touch foreheads. To try and understand yourself as a group, as team mates.

The Time Out is a gentle, self-aware and intimate examination of what it takes to be more than the sum of your parts, that carefully weaves the responses of the participants back into the fabric of the work. This is the point where I normally end on a slightly unnecessary flourish, but you’re going to have to make do with: ‘I liked it.’

Alma Mater – Fish & Game

An iPad show. 20 minutes, and a kind of fairy tale for an empty room. You’re instructed to use the iPad ‘like a camera’ – so as the display moves its angle on the room, you move the screen so that it aligns, filling the room with characters, objects, a tale about a little girl, growing up. Another thing that I’d heard a lot of people respond quite favourably to, but that I found a tad underwhelming. An interesting story, but not really a visual language that worked for me. It felt like it should respond like a video game viewpoint – using the point of view of a player-character made me crave more responsivity; at least a navigational level of interaction. Continue reading Edinburgh: Day the third