The first batch of Traverse openings on
this year’s Edinburgh Fringe includes strong showings from Scotland’s
principal playwriting Davids, albeit in each case transferring from
earlier exposure elsewhere. David Harrower’s
A Slow Air,
first seen at the Tron in Glasgow in May, is a powerful and sensitive
pair of intercut monologues by a now middle-aged brother and sister who
have not spoken for 14 years. Little by little through their narratives
we see not just their individual and shared histories but also the
contemporary Scotland in which each lives, from the snobbiest parts of
Edinburgh through to the Glasgow Airport attempted-bombers. Harrower
directs real-life siblings Kathryn and Lewis Howden, each an
accomplished performer in their own right.
David Greig has a brace of plays on show.
The Monster In The Hall
had earlier been toured by the TAG theatre company; it is sometimes
hard to believe it was written for a teenage audience, although the
protagonist is a 16-year-old schoolgirl, the wonderfully named Duck
Macatarsaney. Duck cares for her dad, an ageing biker with MS, and on
one fateful day has to contend with his sudden (though temporary)
blindness and visits from the social services lady (expected), Duck’s
secret unrequited classmate love (unexpected, not least because he
seems gay) and dad Duke’s new soulmate from online role-playing games,
a Norwegian death-metal chanteuse (inconceivable). Greig and the
four-strong cast punctuate the action with 1960s-style girl-group
numbers: the shadow of
Leader of The Pack looms large… d’you get the picture? (Yes, we see…)
Greig’s
The Strange Undoing Of Prudencia Hart
is even odder, being the story of a strait-laced female scholar of
border ballads who, snowbound after a conference in the border town of
Kelso, finds herself drawn into an archetypal balladic narrative
involving the devil, love and severe intoxication. And a lot of
rhyming, much of it self-conscious. Wils Wilson’s production for the
National Theatre of Scotland first embarked on a tour of bar venues,
and fetches up here in the function room of the Ghillie Dhu pub, with
the audience sitting at tables whilst the cast of five cavort around,
through and with us, singing and playing a clutch of ballads (plus a
football chant and a Kylie number) as they go.
Other Traverse
shows in “outreach” venues include a four-hour dance marathon piece in
which audience participation is compulsory (which is why I gave it a
miss) and
What Remains, a
promenade piece from the Scottish stalwarts of the form Grid Iron,
through the Victorian spaces of the University of Edinburgh’s Medical
School. It is remade into the Conservatoire of the Anatomy of Music,
around which we are conducted to assemble a portrait of Gilbert K
Prendergast, survivor of an unhappy childhood and now a nightmare of a
piano teacher… truly, a nightmare. David Paul Jones’ music is as
haunting as ever accompanying Ben Harrison’s words.
Other guest
productions are less successful. Mark Thomson, who runs the Royal
Lyceum Theatre just next door, has dropped by with his own play
Wondrous Flitting, in which 24-year-old Sam wanders through a world trying to find significance; he fails, and so by and large do we.
Man Of Valour,
from Dublin’s Corn Exchange company, is a solo piece with Paul Reid
performing Michael West’s minimal text and a lot of Berkoffian mime
about a Dublin salaryman trudging through life with his father’s ashes.
I am reminded that in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels, the ruler of
his fictional city hangs mimes upside down in a scorpion pit opposite a
notice (also upside down) that reads “LEARN THE WORDS”. The most
dramatically focused and unobtrusively intelligent is Ramin Gray’s ATC
production of
The Golden Dragon
by Roland Schimmelpfennig, a series of scenes set in and around an
Oriental restaurant: an unrolling tapestry of love and sex, life and
death, and inevitably racism, presented in a deceptively low-key style.
Written for the Financial
Times.