Day 1
We have arrived. Edinburgh is the Athens of the North and after many hours in a van we take the opportunity to walk around the city, up the Royal Mile, through the park in the auspices shadow of Arthur’s Seat. It was exciting for a while, the allure of the architecture, the frisson of the festival and the memories of a past campaign. We visited venue 13, our home for 3 weeks in 2012, reminisce on escapades to fill seats and smile at familiar faces. As we continue to stroll and notice the plethora of other venues and billboards crammed full of posters and fliers the legs get a little heavier, the road steepens and the trudge becomes a little slower.
It starts here. It’s time and it’s a like trying to get on a train whilst it’s moving.
Day 2
First site visit to Summerhall and the Red Lecture Theatre. It is a cosy, retro wooden panelled space with an 8 metre wide performance space with a depth of 3 metres. It isn’t as we had planned. The screen is lower, the back wall is not straight and our set will have to be rearranged. We have such limited time in the space and we need to check projection and lighting. We get on with it supported by Kostas, our friendly technician.
Mark Thomas is hanging around the foyer and Drew shares a few words with the great man. We can’t see his show as our time slots clash but he’s heard of us. Steven sees Mark Steel and comments that he’s smaller than he sounds on the radio. At the Fringe everything is out in the open.
Day 3
We have an 8 a.m. get in time. It’s not easy. Every other theatre experience consists of a day to set up, point lights and focus. The stage would get dressed and the props would be left on stage awaiting that evenings performance. Nothing at the Fringe is like any other theatre experience. We manage a brief run through in our 2 hour time slot and then clear the space for the incoming 11 a.m. show. We head home collectively to eat scrambled eggs and hatch a plan as to how we might get some other people in the house for the opening show.
The Royal Mile is mayhem. We exchange fliers with an assortment of other companies and chat briefly. The mile is something of a ridiculous pleasure. It is hard to imagine that any single punter would be found here in this deluge of the disparate or desperate. But here we are trying to find our words, struggling to find the vocabulary to explain or represent the show. It will take a few days to hone.
And then it’s time. It’s a blur. The door opens, a few people wonder in, we stare out at them and then take each a piece of artwork. The show slides by almost to plan. There are some sounds of derision, amusement and discomfort from the small assembly. And then it’s over. With the expected haste we de-rig and reset backstage. It’s a military operation.
In the courtyard afterwards we take stock, chat to a few of those that came to support the cause or take a blind punt. It’s not a negative experience. There is part of me that wonders if it is really worth it. Part of me that craves a bigger slice of the cake. Part of me that wants to be anywhere else than here today. We know we had some press in tonight. We await a verdict… and a new set of thoughts pertaining to the value of this crazy life here, in Edinburgh.
Gareth
SMASH IT UP is at Summerhall 15 – 29 August