Now that I've written up the backlog here are a few brief words (primarily as a reminder to self) on the last few events that finished off my Festival going.
Islam in the Mediterranean - drawn to this because of my various wanderings around Moorish Spain. It's always impressive and not a little humbling to see how much an academic specialist knows about their subject. Amira K Bennison gave an interesting and enjoyable presentation of the work that has brought forth The Almoravid and Almohad Empires, a book whose ninety quid price tag will keep it off my shelves.
The Toad Knew - one of those shows in which people dash about, grapple contortionally with others, do funny walks pinched from silent movies, swing and birl on stage machinery and indulge in other no doubt highly inventive and skilful pranks that leave me cold.
Humble Brassica - hard to know why I went to hear a talk about a novel called The Cauliflower which is a fictionalised account of the life of Sri Ramakrishna, a Hindu spiritual master. The author was a perky and entertaining speaker so I quite enjoyed it though I can't see myself reading the book. Stuart Kelly writing in The Guardian reckons she's a genius so maybe I'll try her golf novel, The Yips.
Richard III - I suppose there was a lot of good stuff in this production from Berlin but I found it irritating, not least the bulky microphone and cables that hung down centre stage partly obscuring the translation panel.
I took a day off from Festival going on Saturday to attend Bob and Caroline's golden wedding celebration in Glasgow and had a thoroughly splendid afternoon.
Raw - billed as a work for young people and adults this dance show from Belgium was as odd as most modern dance is but checking the blurb when I got home I seem to have undestood its main messages.
Gurrelieder - the final concert of the EIF is generally a large scale work and you couldn't get much larger than this. Between orchestra, chorus and soloists there must have been around three hundred people on the Usher Hall stage. I enjoyed the big noisy bits but some of the more reflective passages had me shifting my bum around to ease the numbness.
The Impact of Flemish Immigrants on Scotland - quite an interesting talk but I've already forgotten almost everything that was said.
Fireworks Concert - I've frequently thought of attending this, the final final concert of the Festival and now I've done it probably will never do so again. I went in good heart having had a glass or two in St Andrew Square with some of the Midsummer Night's Dream cast and found a reasonably dark and convenient spot more or less behind the Ross bandstand which gave a pretty acceptable view of the fireworks. I should I suppose have splashed out on a seat at the front but there I think you suffer a bit from all the light emanating from the bandstand and its surrounding infrastructure.
Anyway I snapped madly away for a little while with my phone camera. None of the pictures are very good but here's one as a souvenir.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
The show's been over for ten days and was a commercial and critical success. The latter assertion is based on the words of citizen critics because the professional who came on opening night didn't get around to publishing a review. We should make him pay for his ticket next time.
I've seen lots but have been too busy and maybe too lazy to write them up here plus having had a computer on the brink of being thrown out of the window. I've managed to get the machine running a bit better, considerably better actually but the backup software I use can't complete a run and maintains this is likely to be the result of a hardware error. So I'll have to engage with Acer support who will doubtless insist I go through various hoops before they agree to check the physical state of the machine, assuming it doesn't break down irretrievably in the process.
Anyway I have a little bit of time to spare this evening having left a world music gig after half an hour because I believe that my hearing is worth a lot more than the twenty quid I paid for the ticket.
Working backwards here's what I've been to.
Stalin's Daughter by Rosemary Sullivan - super presentation of a wonderful sounding book.
Darien by John McKendrick - fascinating account of Scotland's attempt to found a colony in the centre of the Spanish empire. England didn't help but it was our own damn fault is the conclusion.
GRIT in the EIF - this sounded fun and it was though the adulation with which the orchestration of a kind of modern folky album by a youngly dead guy I'd never heard of was pretty incomprehensible to me.
The Seven by Ruth Dudley Edwards - myth busting straight talking unromantic look at the leaders of the 1916 Easter rising in Dublin. An unnecessay event in a democracy she maintained as constitutional change was underway and would inevitably have led to home rule if not more after the war.
Sao Paulo Symphony Orchestra - playing one of my favourites, Shostakovich 5th Symphony, that I first heard at an Edinburgh Festival circa 1965 plus a wonderful piece by Villa Lobos. First up a lad of about twelve stood in front of conductor, orchestra and huge chorus looking out at a couple of thousand of us in the Usher Hall and undaunted sang the solos in Bernstein's Chichester Psalms.
Culloden by Murray Pittock - another myth buster and deromantiser but I'll need to read the book to get the full story. About Prince Charlie he remarked that if one lost one's whole raison d'etre at 27 and lingered on for decades in exile one would be hard pushed to keep off the sauce. I can but agree.
Paris Spring by James Naughtie - an immensely entertaining conversation between Naughtie and Magnus Linklater about his second spy novel whose background is the events of May 1968. They strayed far enough from the book to give Jeremy Corbyn and others a wee mention. Determined not to load up with books I thought I'll read this when it comes out in paperback and blow me it's been published simultaneously in paper and hardback so I bought it. I compounded this lapse in self-control by buying his first novel as well.
World Citizen at home in Paris by Jim Haynes - this was a session full of delightful anecdotes from a legend in his own lifetime who seems to have total recall from his Louisiana childhood to date. Unusually he was not trying to sell a book. In fact everyone in the audience was given a free copy in a pretty little goodie bag. It's an anthology of various intensely detailed diary like newsletters he's published over the years produced to inaugurate the Jim Haynes Living Archive to be hosted by Napier University. He turned down approaches from American institutions to join his fellow Traverse founder Richard Demarco in housing his bits and bobs here for posterity to trawl through.
The 101 Greatest Plays by Michael Billington - admitting to his choice being totally subjective and admitting to second thoughts post publication Billington and Joyce McMillan held a spirited and enjoyable discussion about what was rightly in his book, what was in it that shouldn't have been and what wasn't that should've.
Dirt Road by James Kelman - the extracts he read encouraged me to think that I should put aside the difficulty I've had in the past trying to read his work and have a go at this one. When it's in paperback of course.
Auld Reekie's Makars discussed by two of them, Ron Butlin and Christine De Luca - I've read some of Ron Butlin's work before. I've even been in a film based on one of his poems but I didn't know Christine De Luca. What she read of her own poetry I enjoyed very much. But this event was to celebrate the work of lots of poets who have written about Edinburgh and their choices were excellent even though my own favourite, Kind Kittock's Land didn't feature.
Iphigenia in Tauris - I missed this because the leading lady did her back in during the set-up and the show was cancelled. Luckily for the company but not for me it was to have been the last performance. On the plus side it freed me for an enjoyable glass or two at a birthday party instead.
Before the Hudson and the Liffey - All I knew about James Connolly before I saw this show was that he was born in the Cowgate and executed for his part in the 1916 Easter Rising. With a combination of songs (many written by Connolly) and readings from books, letter and newspapers his significance in tradeunionism and socialist politics here, in Ireland and in the USA was entertainingly imparted.
The Glass Menagerie - an excellent production of an excellent play. I particularly liked the gentleman caller.
1% - Iain Heggie of A Wholly Healthy Glasgow fame in a laidback hour of amusing anecdotes, not all of which can possibly have been true.
Scottish Ballet - two wildly contrasting works: one dark, all male, all violent, all heavy noise and very solid movement; the other lighter with the entire company scurrying around the stage marrying classical movement with the apparent chaos of a hive of bees. Both were hard to describe but beautiful to watch.
Superwomen of Science - a slightly weird show in which the stories of a number of female scientists were sung to us. At the end we were given a label with a scientist's name on it and exhorted to google her.
Anything That Gives Off Light - a wild, chaotic and to my mind (thanks perhaps to having been written by a committee) incoherent exploration of caledonian identity and experience that sought to draw parallels with Appalachian mining communities. One woman I met at another show described it as dreadful, another thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. My opinion lies somewhere in between but I can't say that I enjoyed it. Joyce describes it well here.
The World According to Saki - some of his gently satirical tales presented in the setting of a WWI trench with an actor playing the part of Saki himself. This was a warm, delicate and well-performed piece that gave me and I'm sure all who saw it great pleasure.
Measure for Measure - One of the most exciting shows that I ever saw was Declan Donnellan's production in Russian of Boris Gudonov in an abandoned factory in Avignon so I was keen to see his Measure for Measure (also in Russian). In Avignon there was a great deal of rushing about, easily enough accommodated within a factory, but more challenging in The Lyceum. Nevertheless he moved his cast around at a great lick and got the same sort of energy. With a reasonable grasp on the story and some squinting at the electronic translation boards I was able to enjoy the show despite awkwardly placed stage left activity that was hard to see from my upper circle seat.
Where You're Meant to Be - like GRIT this show dealt with another aspect of modern Scottish culture that I knew nothing about although I knew the name Arab Strap. There was a film featuring Aidan Moffat (Arab Strap frontman) on a mission to modernise Scottish folksongs and Sheila Stewart (a seventy odd singer from the travelling community) who doesn't want the old songs buggered about with. Then Moffat and many of his chums who were in the film played and sang. Most of the numbers were deliciously filthy including his additions to The Ball of Kirriemuir. Sheila Stewart didn't sing because she has died since the film was made but the gig ended with a beautiful song of farewell that in tribute to her kept its original lyrics. It was a great show.
Mozart and Brahms Clarinet Quintets - a delightful morning concert in the Queen's Hall featuring the principal clarinetist of the Berlin Phil.
The Collector - dramatisation of John Fowles' sinister novel about the shy butterfly collector who abducts a girl he fancies, shuts her in a cellar, desires only to please her and wants only that she should care for him. It doesn't turn out well. I thought the opening video montage of stalker shots set the situation up beautifully and as a young man rose from the audience and started to tell his tale I thought we were in for a treat. However despite their efforts the cast of two didn't manage to create the oppressive, on edge atmosphere that the piece needed. Admittedly not an easy job in the Royal Scots function room.
Black Comedy - this play features in Billington's list of the 101 greatest and I remember having found it funny 30 years ago, when it was already two decades old but this production provoked only the odd titter from me. Not that it was a bad production at all, just that the play seemed at best a feeble piece and my appreciation of its dated humour has faded.
A Tale of Two Cities - I've never found sufficient strength to get all the way through a Dickens novel so I'm very grateful for the work of dramatisers which I invariably enjoy. This was a case in point. A thoroughly well acted and visually stimulating presentation of a grand tale of intigue, love and self sacrifice.
Natalia Osipova - lovely to look at, only wish I had a better visual memory to relive the pleasure.
My Eyes Went Dark - an excellent two-hander on a bare set played between two banks of seating just like the good old days in James' Court. A story of a man who has lost his family in an air accident, the despair and sadness beyond belief that it has left him with and the thirst for revenge he feels towards the person he holds responsible and whom in fact he kills.
The Red Shed - political stand-up leaning heavily to the left. Enjoyable but is this the best use of performance space for what claims to be "Scotland's New Writing Theatre"?
Shake - a French company under a British born director shake up Shakespeare's Twelfth Night and create an engaging, fun-packed end of pier show. Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a ventriloquist's dummy, a handful of actors play most everybody else though they charmingly tell us that Maria the letter writing maid had to be cut. Feste sits in his beach hut doorway and plays gramophone records. He speaks American English. Maybe French audiences find that side splittingly funny.
It Folds - one of those weird Fringe shows that get four stars but leave humble theatregoers like me crying why, oh why. It wasn't entirely unwatchable though. I went because Siobhan was in it and without a word of a lie the scene at the end of the show in which she and a dozen or so others came on clad in ghost outfits and sang a high falutin version of Happy Birthday was the best bit.
Simon Keenlyside - a concert in the Queen's Hall series in which Keenlyside laid aside his classical voice to explore Broadway songs and their European progenitors. He was more than ably supported by a jazzy quintet.
Mozart at Teatime - intended at a clarinet class outing it attracted three of us but didn't feature any clarinet playing. Whether that was because of an error in selection or later re-programming we will never know. It was pleasant nonetheless.
In a Forest Dark and Deep - the Grads other contribution to the Fringe. The play itself is dark and delves deep into relationships, not least between a brother and sister. The gradual peeling away of the sister's lies and the growing realisation of what has actually happened keeps the audience on the edge of their seats throughout.
¡Saxo Clasico! - the sax and piano duo of Sue McKenzie and Ingrid Sawers in a wide-ranging concert from Scotland to South America, played impeccably as is their wont.
I've seen lots but have been too busy and maybe too lazy to write them up here plus having had a computer on the brink of being thrown out of the window. I've managed to get the machine running a bit better, considerably better actually but the backup software I use can't complete a run and maintains this is likely to be the result of a hardware error. So I'll have to engage with Acer support who will doubtless insist I go through various hoops before they agree to check the physical state of the machine, assuming it doesn't break down irretrievably in the process.
Anyway I have a little bit of time to spare this evening having left a world music gig after half an hour because I believe that my hearing is worth a lot more than the twenty quid I paid for the ticket.
Working backwards here's what I've been to.
Stalin's Daughter by Rosemary Sullivan - super presentation of a wonderful sounding book.
Darien by John McKendrick - fascinating account of Scotland's attempt to found a colony in the centre of the Spanish empire. England didn't help but it was our own damn fault is the conclusion.
GRIT in the EIF - this sounded fun and it was though the adulation with which the orchestration of a kind of modern folky album by a youngly dead guy I'd never heard of was pretty incomprehensible to me.
The Seven by Ruth Dudley Edwards - myth busting straight talking unromantic look at the leaders of the 1916 Easter rising in Dublin. An unnecessay event in a democracy she maintained as constitutional change was underway and would inevitably have led to home rule if not more after the war.
Sao Paulo Symphony Orchestra - playing one of my favourites, Shostakovich 5th Symphony, that I first heard at an Edinburgh Festival circa 1965 plus a wonderful piece by Villa Lobos. First up a lad of about twelve stood in front of conductor, orchestra and huge chorus looking out at a couple of thousand of us in the Usher Hall and undaunted sang the solos in Bernstein's Chichester Psalms.
Culloden by Murray Pittock - another myth buster and deromantiser but I'll need to read the book to get the full story. About Prince Charlie he remarked that if one lost one's whole raison d'etre at 27 and lingered on for decades in exile one would be hard pushed to keep off the sauce. I can but agree.
Paris Spring by James Naughtie - an immensely entertaining conversation between Naughtie and Magnus Linklater about his second spy novel whose background is the events of May 1968. They strayed far enough from the book to give Jeremy Corbyn and others a wee mention. Determined not to load up with books I thought I'll read this when it comes out in paperback and blow me it's been published simultaneously in paper and hardback so I bought it. I compounded this lapse in self-control by buying his first novel as well.
World Citizen at home in Paris by Jim Haynes - this was a session full of delightful anecdotes from a legend in his own lifetime who seems to have total recall from his Louisiana childhood to date. Unusually he was not trying to sell a book. In fact everyone in the audience was given a free copy in a pretty little goodie bag. It's an anthology of various intensely detailed diary like newsletters he's published over the years produced to inaugurate the Jim Haynes Living Archive to be hosted by Napier University. He turned down approaches from American institutions to join his fellow Traverse founder Richard Demarco in housing his bits and bobs here for posterity to trawl through.
The 101 Greatest Plays by Michael Billington - admitting to his choice being totally subjective and admitting to second thoughts post publication Billington and Joyce McMillan held a spirited and enjoyable discussion about what was rightly in his book, what was in it that shouldn't have been and what wasn't that should've.
Dirt Road by James Kelman - the extracts he read encouraged me to think that I should put aside the difficulty I've had in the past trying to read his work and have a go at this one. When it's in paperback of course.
Auld Reekie's Makars discussed by two of them, Ron Butlin and Christine De Luca - I've read some of Ron Butlin's work before. I've even been in a film based on one of his poems but I didn't know Christine De Luca. What she read of her own poetry I enjoyed very much. But this event was to celebrate the work of lots of poets who have written about Edinburgh and their choices were excellent even though my own favourite, Kind Kittock's Land didn't feature.
Iphigenia in Tauris - I missed this because the leading lady did her back in during the set-up and the show was cancelled. Luckily for the company but not for me it was to have been the last performance. On the plus side it freed me for an enjoyable glass or two at a birthday party instead.
Before the Hudson and the Liffey - All I knew about James Connolly before I saw this show was that he was born in the Cowgate and executed for his part in the 1916 Easter Rising. With a combination of songs (many written by Connolly) and readings from books, letter and newspapers his significance in tradeunionism and socialist politics here, in Ireland and in the USA was entertainingly imparted.
The Glass Menagerie - an excellent production of an excellent play. I particularly liked the gentleman caller.
1% - Iain Heggie of A Wholly Healthy Glasgow fame in a laidback hour of amusing anecdotes, not all of which can possibly have been true.
Scottish Ballet - two wildly contrasting works: one dark, all male, all violent, all heavy noise and very solid movement; the other lighter with the entire company scurrying around the stage marrying classical movement with the apparent chaos of a hive of bees. Both were hard to describe but beautiful to watch.
Superwomen of Science - a slightly weird show in which the stories of a number of female scientists were sung to us. At the end we were given a label with a scientist's name on it and exhorted to google her.
Anything That Gives Off Light - a wild, chaotic and to my mind (thanks perhaps to having been written by a committee) incoherent exploration of caledonian identity and experience that sought to draw parallels with Appalachian mining communities. One woman I met at another show described it as dreadful, another thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread. My opinion lies somewhere in between but I can't say that I enjoyed it. Joyce describes it well here.
The World According to Saki - some of his gently satirical tales presented in the setting of a WWI trench with an actor playing the part of Saki himself. This was a warm, delicate and well-performed piece that gave me and I'm sure all who saw it great pleasure.
Measure for Measure - One of the most exciting shows that I ever saw was Declan Donnellan's production in Russian of Boris Gudonov in an abandoned factory in Avignon so I was keen to see his Measure for Measure (also in Russian). In Avignon there was a great deal of rushing about, easily enough accommodated within a factory, but more challenging in The Lyceum. Nevertheless he moved his cast around at a great lick and got the same sort of energy. With a reasonable grasp on the story and some squinting at the electronic translation boards I was able to enjoy the show despite awkwardly placed stage left activity that was hard to see from my upper circle seat.
Where You're Meant to Be - like GRIT this show dealt with another aspect of modern Scottish culture that I knew nothing about although I knew the name Arab Strap. There was a film featuring Aidan Moffat (Arab Strap frontman) on a mission to modernise Scottish folksongs and Sheila Stewart (a seventy odd singer from the travelling community) who doesn't want the old songs buggered about with. Then Moffat and many of his chums who were in the film played and sang. Most of the numbers were deliciously filthy including his additions to The Ball of Kirriemuir. Sheila Stewart didn't sing because she has died since the film was made but the gig ended with a beautiful song of farewell that in tribute to her kept its original lyrics. It was a great show.
Mozart and Brahms Clarinet Quintets - a delightful morning concert in the Queen's Hall featuring the principal clarinetist of the Berlin Phil.
The Collector - dramatisation of John Fowles' sinister novel about the shy butterfly collector who abducts a girl he fancies, shuts her in a cellar, desires only to please her and wants only that she should care for him. It doesn't turn out well. I thought the opening video montage of stalker shots set the situation up beautifully and as a young man rose from the audience and started to tell his tale I thought we were in for a treat. However despite their efforts the cast of two didn't manage to create the oppressive, on edge atmosphere that the piece needed. Admittedly not an easy job in the Royal Scots function room.
Black Comedy - this play features in Billington's list of the 101 greatest and I remember having found it funny 30 years ago, when it was already two decades old but this production provoked only the odd titter from me. Not that it was a bad production at all, just that the play seemed at best a feeble piece and my appreciation of its dated humour has faded.
A Tale of Two Cities - I've never found sufficient strength to get all the way through a Dickens novel so I'm very grateful for the work of dramatisers which I invariably enjoy. This was a case in point. A thoroughly well acted and visually stimulating presentation of a grand tale of intigue, love and self sacrifice.
Natalia Osipova - lovely to look at, only wish I had a better visual memory to relive the pleasure.
My Eyes Went Dark - an excellent two-hander on a bare set played between two banks of seating just like the good old days in James' Court. A story of a man who has lost his family in an air accident, the despair and sadness beyond belief that it has left him with and the thirst for revenge he feels towards the person he holds responsible and whom in fact he kills.
The Red Shed - political stand-up leaning heavily to the left. Enjoyable but is this the best use of performance space for what claims to be "Scotland's New Writing Theatre"?
Shake - a French company under a British born director shake up Shakespeare's Twelfth Night and create an engaging, fun-packed end of pier show. Sir Andrew Aguecheek is a ventriloquist's dummy, a handful of actors play most everybody else though they charmingly tell us that Maria the letter writing maid had to be cut. Feste sits in his beach hut doorway and plays gramophone records. He speaks American English. Maybe French audiences find that side splittingly funny.
It Folds - one of those weird Fringe shows that get four stars but leave humble theatregoers like me crying why, oh why. It wasn't entirely unwatchable though. I went because Siobhan was in it and without a word of a lie the scene at the end of the show in which she and a dozen or so others came on clad in ghost outfits and sang a high falutin version of Happy Birthday was the best bit.
Simon Keenlyside - a concert in the Queen's Hall series in which Keenlyside laid aside his classical voice to explore Broadway songs and their European progenitors. He was more than ably supported by a jazzy quintet.
Mozart at Teatime - intended at a clarinet class outing it attracted three of us but didn't feature any clarinet playing. Whether that was because of an error in selection or later re-programming we will never know. It was pleasant nonetheless.
In a Forest Dark and Deep - the Grads other contribution to the Fringe. The play itself is dark and delves deep into relationships, not least between a brother and sister. The gradual peeling away of the sister's lies and the growing realisation of what has actually happened keeps the audience on the edge of their seats throughout.
¡Saxo Clasico! - the sax and piano duo of Sue McKenzie and Ingrid Sawers in a wide-ranging concert from Scotland to South America, played impeccably as is their wont.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
Vanishing Point's other show in the EIF was much more to my taste. In Interiors the audience are observers, some might say voyeurs or even peeping toms although in truth nothing sufficiently salacious happens to justify those terms.
We are in undefined northern latitudes outside a house watching as a group of people gather for Peter's customary midwinter party celebrating the start of the steady lengthening of days that will lead to Spring and Summer. His grandaughter is there. A young man she is interested in arrives. A lady of Peter's age comes in with a cake dusting the snow off her boots, then a couple, unmarried but close and finally John a newcomer to the district completes the party.
There is no dialogue but some intermittent commentary, first from an unseen source but part of the way through the speaker appears on stage and watches with us as the party pursues the course that all such gatherings do. Food is served. Drink is drunk. Little conversational groups combine and dissolve, There is dancing. There is happiness. There is disappointment. Eventually everyone leaves.
It's a warm, affectionate and poignant portrait of everyday human beings living everyday lives and is just lovely.
Just lovely too, and I dare to suggest warm and affectionate has been the audience response to the first two performances of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The audiences have been gratifyingly large and advance sales indicate that will continue for the rest of the week. There were reviewers in on opening night but their thoughts do not seem yet to have seen the light of day. When they do I'll share them here.
We are in undefined northern latitudes outside a house watching as a group of people gather for Peter's customary midwinter party celebrating the start of the steady lengthening of days that will lead to Spring and Summer. His grandaughter is there. A young man she is interested in arrives. A lady of Peter's age comes in with a cake dusting the snow off her boots, then a couple, unmarried but close and finally John a newcomer to the district completes the party.
There is no dialogue but some intermittent commentary, first from an unseen source but part of the way through the speaker appears on stage and watches with us as the party pursues the course that all such gatherings do. Food is served. Drink is drunk. Little conversational groups combine and dissolve, There is dancing. There is happiness. There is disappointment. Eventually everyone leaves.
It's a warm, affectionate and poignant portrait of everyday human beings living everyday lives and is just lovely.
Just lovely too, and I dare to suggest warm and affectionate has been the audience response to the first two performances of A Midsummer Night's Dream. The audiences have been gratifyingly large and advance sales indicate that will continue for the rest of the week. There were reviewers in on opening night but their thoughts do not seem yet to have seen the light of day. When they do I'll share them here.
Thursday, August 04, 2016
I went to my first Fringe show of the year earlier today. It was
completely by chance that someone gave me a free ticket. The company
were papering the house for their first performance. But I really
struck lucky. It was a great show. Half a dozen actors, all graduates
of the Lecoq school in Paris (famous for mime) played out a number of
more or less intelligble scenarios with wooden blocks, figurines, smoke
effects, cotton wool clouds, fish heads, balloons, light, sound and
music but very few words. It all culminated in what I took to be an
apocalyptic destruction of the world carried out under the watching eye
of a man with a tree growing out of his ear. It was performed with
great skill and athleticism and lived up to that holy grail of the Fringe
- weird but wonderful.
Get your tickets here.
When you read the reviews in The Scotsman and The Guardian of The Destroyed Room you can see why the International Festival invited Vanishing Point to present the work again in the Festival. But did they rely solely on the reviews or did they see the show?
If I had read the reviews I would have been even more disappointed than I was. I struggle to see that any illumination or enlightenment was offered to us about the issues argued over in what seemed to me to be an episode of a middle class Big Brother. You may say that theatre's job is to pose questions rather than give answers but that demands that the play formulates a question which I don't think this did with any clarity.
Get your tickets here.
When you read the reviews in The Scotsman and The Guardian of The Destroyed Room you can see why the International Festival invited Vanishing Point to present the work again in the Festival. But did they rely solely on the reviews or did they see the show?
If I had read the reviews I would have been even more disappointed than I was. I struggle to see that any illumination or enlightenment was offered to us about the issues argued over in what seemed to me to be an episode of a middle class Big Brother. You may say that theatre's job is to pose questions rather than give answers but that demands that the play formulates a question which I don't think this did with any clarity.
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