Phew!

There was a point towards the end of July when I was looking at my diary for August and trying to plan something in. The first ‘free’ day I could spot, when I wasn’t already committed to something, or likely to be doing something, was today.

Somehow August has gone by in a blur of sun (well, in Paris, anyway), rain (Edinburgh!), theatre, holiday, days out, rehearsals, oh, and quite a bit of work as well. It's been fun. Exhausting at times, but fun (well, maybe not the work part, as that's been pretty tough, but all the more reason to do the good stuff). September seems to be shaping up to be more of the same, as I’m still really busy at work, and alongside that have even more rehearsals*, and theatre trips, to fit in.

At least I haven't had time to be bored. Or to do any house work! So one of my priorities this weekend is to have a bit of a catch up, a bit of a tidy, and maybe go for a walk. Best thing to do on bank holidays, I think, and this last summer bank holiday always seems a bit crazy, as everyone dashes out to catch the last of the summer before the schools go back.

*For we are performing this on 26 September and 17 October. Somewhere in the next few weeks I have to actually learn the lines

Theatre Snob's guide to a day at the Fringe

In the interests of anyone thinking of a day trip to the Fringe, and following on from the Fringe guides I’ve written over the last couple of years, here are my tips:

1. Plan ahead. It is possible to get there in time for Shakespeare for Breakfast, but you need to get your tickets in advance, as the Fringe office doesn’t open in time to pick them up.

2. Where possible, select some shows with food (see Shakespeare for Breakfast, there are also shows which provide cake!) or take snacks with you. The Pleasance bar had sold out of crisps!!

3. Plan your venues, so you’re not chasing from Old Town to New Town and back again. I didn’t venture across to the New Town at all, and all my venues were within easy reach of each other.

4. Don’t queue for tickets at the Fringe Office. Most main venues have their own box office or internet access, so you can purchase tickets, or print out pre-booked ones, without queuing

5. Give yourself some breathing space. Smell the coffee, (and drink some too, with an early start, you’ll need the caffeine), even if you only have an hour between shows.

6. Absorb the atmosphere. Pleasance Courtyard/Pleasance Dome are great places to people watch. The Dome also has a good range of snacks, and has the added benefit of being indoors if wet. The wine can get watered down by the rain in the Courtyard!

7. Look around you. Tomorrow’s stars are here, as well as some of todays.

8. Chat. People are here because they love theatre/music/comedy/culture. So do you, so you already have things in common, and they may suggest a show you hadn’t thought of seeing.

9. Accept that things will clash/be full/be not logistically possible to see. Love seeing what you do. There’s always another year.

10. Have a large handbag – for snacks, brolly (sadly essential for the last few years), pashmina, and all the brochures, magazines and fliers you will undoubtedly pick up.

11. Travel home first class. It’s much more civilized and relaxing than standard class.

12. Finally, enjoy your day. And when you arrive home, think about next year!

All the World's a Stage (or, the whirligig of time*)

We’d booked to see As You Like It at the Globe. I didn’t get there last year, so was determined to this year.

Before the performance, we’d come to the conclusion that they have a rather brilliant gift shop, and, according to Cat, very good chocolate brownies. I’d bought a rain cape, as the sky looked threatening, and then had a bit of a rant about the quotation on it**.

It was as we went in that I saw him on the piazza. I was almost sure, but not certain. I mean, it’s been years since I’ve seen him in the flesh, and he’s not exactly looking like himself in his currently most familiar role. When we went into the yard, I scanned around to see if I could see him. Cat must have wondered what I was on as I went on about how the wood had mellowed over the years, but I soon spotted him on the back row of one of the bays directly behind us. By this time I was pretty sure, for that profile is unmistakable, but I still sought Cat’s confirmation at the interval. Our first response was to Tweet this news!

I was only in the same theatre as Alan Rickman! Not only that, we were watching ‘As You’, which was the first play I ever saw him in. I’d been talking about that production earlier, as there was a photo from it in the programme. The Jaques on stage wasn’t a patch on his performance, the consensus being that this one was a bit sleazy.

At the end of the play we were out first, being groundlings, and were meeting Corinne. I rang her, knowing that she’d never forgive me if she missed him:

‘Where are you?’
‘By the river, near the gate’
‘You need to come towards the gate’
‘There’ll be a lot of people’
‘You need to come to the gate!’

By this time I was almost following him down the steps. Through the gate I spotted her, and dashed over, pointing him out as he headed in the other direction. There was a moment, a look, and an ‘oh my God!’

Later, I reflected in the weird theatrical circle which had brought us from that performance in Stratford all those years ago, to August 2009 at the Globe. For Alan was the start of my stage dooring. I’m not even sure I’d have done it without him (though I guess I’d have found another actor somewhere). I didn’t realise then what I was letting myself in for. I don’t think I’d change a bit of it though!

*Yes, wrong play, I know!
**According the Globe, ‘it falleth as the gentle rain from heaven’, according to all my texts, ‘it droppeth’. The Globe needs to find a quarto or an alternative text, or there may have to be words.

Like Edinburgh, with sun (or, shame about the language barrier)

We spent a few nights in Avignon, home of the famous ‘Pont’, (or demi-Pont, as there’s not much left). Turns out it has an Arts Festival every July, with a Fringe that’s almost as big as Edinburgh.

As a result, the town was heaving with tourists, primarily French, as most of the shows were in French. There were lots of groups performing in the streets, and plenty of fliers to be had (and I maintained my rule of ‘always accept fliers from cute boys’). Problem was, their marketing didn’t really work when they tried to explain to me what the show was about, and I just looked blank. My very basic French wasn’t up to explanations of experimental theatre productions. I nodded and smiled a lot, trying not to indicate that I didn’t have a clue what they were saying.

We did want to see something, just to say that we had. We’d probably have been safer going for a physical piece, trouble was it was all a bit clown/Marcel Marceau/mime based, and I’m not really into that. We toyed with the idea of Moliere, as those companies seemed to have the best costumes, and even Shakespeare in French, as at least I’d understand the story, though that seemed rather wrong.

Eventually we decided on a comedy Barbershop Quartet show, as they chatted nicely to us (in English), and J sings barbershop. They also sang a few songs in English.

The performers were slick, and very skilled, and there was quite a bit of physical comedy which I could follow. What I followed, I enjoyed. I guess I didn't realise until this holiday just how rubbish my French is. A few words, and brief sentences doesn't equip you to follow a performance. I could have done with surtitles! What I missed were a lot of the jokes in the French songs, or, if I didn’t miss them, I mis-interpreted the joke.

Afterwards:
J: you know that bit where they were singing about the different musicians you meet on the Tube...
Me: oh, is that what it was, I thought they were just parodying different song styles.

The result was a quite a bit of this, as I had the jokes explained to me!

'The great Globe itself'

We’ve been sitting drinking wine in the Anchor* pub on Bankside, complaining about the misleading information on their menus, which proclaim the pub to be on the site of the ‘original’ Globe Theatre.

‘Hmmm, only of the Globe was really huge’
‘Maybe it had a very big yard’
‘Actually, sitting here, we’d probably be in a brothel, or a bear pit’

There’s a further issue about the plays proclaimed to be ‘first performed’ at the Globe. Henry V, Richard II, ok.
‘Romeo and Juliet?! I don’t think so!’

Coza decides she needs to take me past the real site of the Globe on the way back to the station. It is a couple of streets back from the river, and adjacent to the Rose Theatre.

There’s not much to see. The ground has been marked out, but the majority of the theatre site is buried beneath a listed Georgian building. I look at it. It’s not an impressive building. You’d think they could have sacrificed it for the history beneath the stones.

‘Just think what could be down there’
‘Cardenio…, or perhaps Love’s Labour’s Won!’

Just for a moment, my mind drifts. The sense of history as I stand here is almost overwhelming. This was the centre of Elizabethan Theatre, and I’m in the footsteps of Will perhaps more than I ever am in Stratford. Never mind that who knows what I’d be standing in! THIS is where it happened.

*A pub with an orderly queue at the bar. Tourists!