Confessions of a Theatre Snob

Monday, August 28, 2006

Sensory Overload

Or

A Beginner's Guide to the Fringe

I’m not sure where to start, but this is a long one. Perhaps with the fact that it was all pretty mind blowing. 7 shows, in two days, and still time for a little shopping. After only a few hours I’d both succumbed to the magic and got sensory overload from the sheer bombardment of theatre. And, quite predictably, I didn’t just want to watch it, I wanted to be part of it all.

Advice

Plan ahead, read the reviews – there are plenty out there, but you need to sift through them, to sort out the wheat from the chaff. Book some shows, particularly if there’s something you really want to see. It will save you a lot of queuing. But leave time for the impromptu.

Accept that there’s so much around you that you’ll only see 10% of what you’d like to, and that at the end off your visit you’ll suddenly hear of a show you’d like to have seen. Celebrate what you have seen, rather than what you haven’t.

Buy tickets on the day at the venue, as the queues are shorter, and they will try and get you in even when the Fringe Box Office has sold out

Modify the ‘Theatre Snob’ rules

‘Festival chic’ is the new dressing up. Essential elements are comfy shoes (you will be trekking at speed between venues) and the ubiquitous pashmina. Comfortable clothing is also essential. Linen is good as it’s cool (you will get hot and sweaty) even if it does crease to hell.

Depending on the show, you might encounter food (always good, as you’ll find it difficult to fit in time for a proper meal) and audience participation. Go with the flow.

Play ‘spot the author/director/producer’ – they’re the one looking slightly nervous, and leading the clapping at the end – useful, as with some Fringe shows, it’s not that clear if they’ve ended.

Accept that you’ll probably see at least one crap show, and remember it’s only an hour. Ok, you won’t get it back, but you’re supporting someone else’s passion.

If you can afford it, and can find a room, stay in the Old Town. We didn’t, which meant lots of treks up and down Princes Street.

Always accept flyers from cute guys, you never know, the show might actually be good.

Be wary of ‘it’s a had 4* reviews’ – this can be anything from The Stage, to their best mate’s comments on an internet forum.

Venues

These vary enormously, from the rather fab inflatable purple cow, known as the Udderbelly, to the dank and smelly Underbelly (known to us as the Smellybelly)

Edinburgh bar prices: good, Venue bar prices: bad

You will run out of time between shows – venues are farther apart than you think.

Shows (and star ratings)

Sherlock Holmes and the Three Students***

Promenade theatre around University of Edinburgh sites. Our first show, and a good one to ease us into the process, and also guide us round some of the sites. Added interest of the author P D James in the audience. You needed to be fit for this one, as they moved you along at a pace. Not SH’s greatest mystery, but fun, and we could call it exercise, so it justified eating chips.

Be My Baby***

Our only ‘established’ play, i.e. something I knew before the Festival, but had never seen performed. Also our only ‘late arrival’. As we dashed down Princes Street, I realised that I do not run, even for theatre. Well acted by a young company. Our only BBC radio interview as we came out of the show.

Have a Nice Life****

A new drama/musical about group therapy. Less bizarre than it sounds, but good fun, with some excellent performances.

Breakfast with Shakespeare****

Croissants, coffee, and Shakespeare. Taming of the Shrew, the panto, performed at speed by an all female cast. Fast paced and high energy start to the day, complete with the usual panto audience responses. A packed audience, and great fun.

Shakespeare’s Passions**

A one man show covering Shakespeare’s ‘greatest hits’ both male and female, where he played all the parts he’d ever wanted to play. Self indulgent, occasionally cringeworthy, but also occasionally almost touching. Lots of soliloquies, but it was notable that he’d omitted Hamlet’s advice to the players.

Bloggers – Real Internet Diaries***

Performed in the ‘Smellybelly’ which sort of took the edge off, as the smell of damp pervaded the whole performance space. Our only 4* show as recommended by The Stage. Focussed on blogs that were primarily about people’s sex lives, so it gave my friend a very bizarre impression of people who blog. Yet elements of truth where people discovered that they had unexpected readers. Also on the beginning of blogging, as people dipped a toe in the water, and the end of the blog. The audience profile for this one was interesting, as it was a much younger audience than for other shows.

Painters****

4* + really, as it was the best show we saw. I hesitate to give it the full 5* though, as that’s the equivalent of a standing ovation, and you know what I’m like about them.
Fab show by 3 guys who performed it as a piece of physical theatre mixed with dance and comedy. Again, high energy, audience participation, and a real sense of joy about the performance. A fabulous finish to an exhausting, but brilliant couple of days.

Overall, fabulous, exhausting, exhilarating – and next time, I’m going for longer, and staying up later. With bars open till 5am, who needs sleep!

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Saturday, August 26, 2006

Public diaries

I'm sitting in a (frankly smelly) fringe theatre venue with a friend, watching a show about Blogging. It's based on real life blogs, but ones of a very sexual nature, it's funny, and well acted, and I'm laughing at some of the things the 'bloggers' are saying and acting out. It bears little resemblance to the blogs of people I know, or those that I read.

After the show, we go for a drink. My friend comments 'I guess that's what most blogs are about'. I find myself explaining that actually most aren't like that, and that people write them for different reasons, but with an understanding that anything that goes out there can be read by anyone. That they are, in fact, public diaries. One of the very true aspects of the show was one guy who blogged that his ex found out about his new girlfriend from reading his blog.

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Thursday, August 24, 2006

Chav's Day?

It's been York Races this week - the Ebor meeting is the biggest of the year, and Thursday is traditionally 'Ladies Day'. It's 3 or 4 years since I last went (that sounds like I go a lot, but I've only been twice in my life). It's an excuse to dress up, wear a big hat, drink champagne, oh, and watch the occasional horse race.

It seems to have gone downhill a bit, though, as I counted not one, but four pink stretch limos heading back towards Leeds along the A64. Well, at least they had the good grace not to stay in town!

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Saturday, August 19, 2006

Into the woods

At one point last night, as I listened to Griffin play an acoustic gig in Dalby Forest, I thought back about some of the bizarre places that we’ve seen him perform over the last 3 years. This year so far, it’s been The Lion Inn at Blakey Ridge, ‘Boro Town Hall, and the Black Sheep Brewery, Masham. Not your usual list of gig venues, I think you’d agree. And that’s to say nothing of previous ‘venues’ such as Scarborough beach in the rain, and, going even further back, the dodgy nightclubs, and Christmas light switch-ons.

Given that we’re not known for our love of nature, as we headed into the forest down a deserted road signed as ‘gates shut at 8pm’, there were points where Corinne and I were hoping that we wouldn’t break the ‘no overnight camping’ rule by getting stranded there. Thankfully we spotted Gayle’s car in the car park, and headed in the direction of the noise.

This seemed to be a very informal, and impromptu, gig, arranged at short notice, presumably only advertised through the website, and at the Dalby Centre, and attended by the Griffin stalwarts, friends and family, and a few stray locals and tourists (there must have been a few of them, as one woman came up to me at the end of the gig, and asked me who he was – it seems so long since I’ve had to explain that).

Much as I love a rocking band gig, just for the sheer joy of being able to bounce around, I do love to hear him sing acoustically, as that, to me, is when his voice just cuts to the heart. And when I hear that again, and see him putting his heart and soul into a song, I still believe, and I know that a part of me always will. There’s far too much history now to give up on him.

This gig was a lovely mix of the old and the new, and to me the balance felt just right. This year the focus has been very much on the new songs, on moving forward, and quite right too, but you do miss the songs that are part of our story as well as his. So it was lovely to hear him start with ‘Feeling Alive’, and finish with the acoustic version of ‘Bring it On’, even though he didn’t grant our request for ‘Wherever You Will Go’. Although it’s not his own song, it feels like it is, and when you look at the list of at the top of this entry, it feels like it’s ours too. I miss it.

It feels as though things are changing again, but it's lovely to see him when he seems relaxed, and the banter isn't forced. 'Get a Life' seemed tongue in cheek this time, where I had found it quite bitter the first time I heard it. I can't believe people can listen to it, and not go 'ouch' at some of the lines, but this time it felt more like a shared joke than an indictment.

As we headed through the pitch black to the car park (why do I never remember the country doesn't have street lights) leading Corinne to walk into a rock*, and then drove through the mist (well, fog actually) out of the forest to the nearest purveyor of alcoholic beverages, once again there had been that little bit of magic.

*I am thinking of keeping an 'ND Expedition Pack' in the boot, for outdoor events and trips to the country. So far, it needs to comprise waterproof rug, large unbrella, spare shoes, torch, emergency alcohol supply, but I am sure there are more things to add

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Thursday, August 17, 2006

The kindness of strangers*

Where was I? Oh, that's right...London**. I meant to continue my London Blog earlier, but as usual, Life took over, and I've spent the last few days working, driving, or sleeping.

But I had such a fab time I want to continue to talk about it. A brilliant couple of days, bookended by two random acts of kindness - from the woman came over and gave us two day passes for the tube as we stood in the long queue for tickets, to the girl in the lovely little french patisserie who gave us free croissants that we brought back for breakfast.

So many memories - going to the British Museum for the first time in my life and being amazed at the Egyptian and Assyrian statues and art. Seeing all those things I've heard about; the Rosetta Stone, the Elgin Marbles (or Partheonon Frieze, as it now seems to be called), the Portland Vase, the Sutton Hoo treasure. And finding it had a fabulous gift shop, where I could buy classy souvenirs, and a great little book on Shakespeare***, which even had a few quiz questions in it.

Wandering the backstreets of Theatreland and Covent Garden; stopping off for occasional food and cocktails, and to read the menu at The Ivy, and discovering that it isn't actually out of our price range. Browsing in fabulous shoe shops, and looking longingly at the theatres, and wishing that Sunday opening was already a reality.

*ok, which play?
**probably only Corinne will get this allusion
***It has to be good when a book on Shakespeare also quotes Dawson's Creek

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Monday, August 14, 2006

The world's our lobster*

So, it’s Saturday night, we’re in the West End of London, in the middle of Theatreland, on the edges of Soho, and we’ve just emerged from the last night of a West End show. Of course, our thoughts fly to alcohol. There has to be lots of pubs with a late licence here, doesn’t there? – after all we know how actors like a drink. There must be half a dozen pubs within a few hundred yards.

The first one we try, a woman at the door tells us it’s closing (it’s 10 to 11, and no one has dipped any lights**). The next one, hmmm, not really our style. There’s Walkabout across the road, people are still going in, and there’s a bouncer on the door. ‘What time are you open until?’ ‘3am, £8 entry’. Well, if I was going to pay £8 before I even get a drink, it wouldn’t be to go into Walkabout. We see another bar/club - £10 entry on a Saturday night. No chance. By this point all the pubs that looked like they were open are starting to close and we start to wonder what a girl has to do to get a drink in this city! We give up, and head back to the hotel bar, which we know is open till 2am, and which will probably work out cheaper. As we head back we’re hailed from a stretch pickup (I kid you not!) with the enticing cry of ‘Oi! Birds!’ Strangely, we’re not tempted by this.

* Cat, I told you I’d call it that
**well known as the universal signal for closing time

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Let your voices carry

Cat and I went down to London at the weekend to see the last night of ‘Whistle Down the Wind’ at the Palace Theatre. Only the second time we’d seen this show (how restrained of us) and I enjoyed it more this second time through, though I think that was probably because the two leads, Tim Rogers and Claire Marlow turned in storming performances for the last night. The relationship between Swallow (Marlow) and ‘the Man’ (Rogers) she finds in her father’s barn is the heart of the story, and, this time, it moved me in a way it hadn’t before. I think I believed this time that Swallow could believe that ‘the Man’ was Jesus, and I’d struggled with that last time. The rest of the story feels like padding to this central relationship. Themes such as religious fanaticism and racism are touched upon, but then casually cast aside as though, hey, this is a musical, and we can’t get in too deep here.

The Palace Theatre is beautiful, with a wonderfully decadent Victorian look, with elaborate decoration and cherubs. It felt quite intimate on Saturday, as only the stalls and the circle were occupied, but I know from experience that if you sit up in the ‘Gods’ you feel a million miles away from the stage, and that just doesn’t do for me.

On a ‘theatre snob’ note, there was a standing ovation going on in the stalls, but I wasn’t part of it.*

*And anyway, we were in the circle.

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Friday, August 11, 2006

The best laid plans...

It’s been a funny old week – things I’d planned for didn’t happen, things I hadn’t planned for did, so that by the end of it my brain feels pretty scrambled – or at least that’s my excuse for not blogging for so long!

Saturday and Sunday – we thought we had first one gig, then two gigs, and then, finally no gigs, owing to illness. But our planned party went ahead anyway, although it never got out of the confines of the wondrous Evil Eye* cocktail bar – well, if you have a bed, food, and a young man bringing cocktails to your bedside, how can you possibly move (other than for chips!).

Sunday - we shopped, we ate, I drank, and a generally good and relaxing time was had, until the evening, when I found myself seriously unwell**.

Monday – dragged myself to the docs – oh how I hate going – but then I was in pain, and it’s amazing how that focuses the mind. Anyway, no work for me for a couple of days and very little food. I am now on a seriously low fat diet, which means, oh horror, no chips!

Wednesday – back to work – but it was fun, although my almost coast to coast drive in the evening so I could meet an old friend was probably a little crazy, but then I hadn’t seen her for two years. Her children are incredibly well behaved! During the course of the evening, I talk to another friend about possibly getting away for a break later in the summer, and she mentions the fact that she fancies the Dordogne…pony trekking! Given that my experience on horseback is limited to the donkeys on Scarborough beach when I was 5, I decline the offer, and suggest a weekend city shopping break might be a better idea.

Thursday – back to work part two (I have two jobs) followed by evening drinks with another friend. We realise that more than 3 months have gone by without us actually meeting up. Yes, we have been talking about going to Stratford for months, and it hasn’t happened. Suddenly now we’re talking about Edinburgh, so watch this space.

In so many ways, I’m glad it’s almost the weekend.

*with thanks to Corinne, who has taught me how to do ‘pretty’ links
**which I stress was nothing to do with alcohol!

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