Edinburgh snaps

Such is the diversity of stuff on offer at the Edinburgh Fringe that there’s plenty for our two disabled reviewers, Penny Pepper and Nathan Young, to sample

PENNY PEPPER: Turning cobbled corners, skittering along in my wheelchair warily, first I trek to the north of the city to Theatre Workshop and Ju Gosling’s Abnormal exhibition. The café bar of this venue did not do it justice, especially as her striking colourful prints inspired by the antique wheelchairs from a dusty RAF collection were ironically hung way above my “wheelie” eye level. While the theme is serious, around the universality of “abnormality” the exhibition has a sense of fun including the amusement arcade “grabber” machine from which you can pick up a hypodermic needle cover with your own Chinese fortune inside.

Later I meet Liz Carr to see Australian comedian Adam Hills display his deceptively casual style, holding our attention without effort and with warmth. In anecdotes concerning his artificial leg and the Paralympics, Hills tackles disability in a way that is sharp but never patronising.

Day two and with a bit of effort I collected my press pass – a funny moment when 20 steps greet me, though thankfully there is an alternative way in, even if convoluted and involving an uncooperative lift. As I fight with blustery rain, I pass by legendary venues. Many of the 400 venues are accessible, but many, sadly are not.

I make it to Zoo to see Ups and Downs and Whoopsie Daisies, a dance piece with wheelchair-user Julie Cleves performing with Robbie Synge. A magnificent performance turning expectations on upside down heads. A lifting hoist forms a stark sculpture incorporated into the movements. Julie’s marvellous full and curvy body defies categorisation as she moves freely on the floor, around the intimate space, and reminds the world that diversity is beauty.

Next I grab a lunch with friends, then as is the way of festival life, we all dash off in different directions, clutching maps, PAs at the ready for dodgy moments on those pervasive cobbles.
With a bit of effort and help I’ve secured two performance slots for myself. The first is off the Royal Mile at the charming Scottish Centre for Story Telling. My first ever improvised story performance: it goes down well. Yes, it is on a disability theme and I make some good contacts and realise I might be good at this: a very Edinburgh moment.

It’s the full on hectic alternative Edinburgh universe. Will I be back in this frenzy next year? Of course I will.

NATHAN YOUNG: The Fringe gives artists permission to take risks, and to fail. In Don Quixote – Theatre of the Blind Charlie Ward took a risk after seeing theatre for the blind in Argentina. The audience are blindfolded throughout this bold adaptation. The play had the potential to fail spectacularly but Charlie successfully directed the cast, from St Andrews University, to create an impressive show, making excellent use of what could have been little more than a gimmick.

Blindfolded before entering the performance space the audience are taken by the arm and led into Don Quixote’s world, ready to be taken wherever his travels may lead them. Making use of sound effects, smells, sensations such as the horse’s tail brushing against your cheek, and cleverly utilising their voices and the space to give the audience the sense of the action happening on different levels, the cast weaved an enjoyable and experiential tale.

Charlie Ward adapts a mammoth text into an engaging and humorous one-hour show. The actors didn’t match up, relying on the fact that the audience couldn’t see them.

I wonder if the novelty of experiencing a show blindfolded contributed to the excitement of it and whether visually impaired audience members will have found it as thrilling. Still, I thoroughly recommend Don Quixote.

I find it unthinkable that disability equality will ever progress to a point where attitudes swing too far the other way. Yet Stacey Lamb’s new play, The Unthinkable, set in 2160, seems to suggest just that.

The two-hander is based on the premise that disabled citizens have risen up to create a new world order, ostensibly free from prejudice, but all those non-disabled are relegated to second class citizens. I didn’t have many expectations of the show, but I thought I’d see a disabled actor or two. I didn’t.

Unthinkable lacks the nuance and sensitivity needed to tackle these issues. It seemed to treat the use of “PC” language and the struggle for equality as one and the same thing. There is relevance to exploring the dangers of society becoming too obsessed with political correctness but only from the point of view that it can act as a barrier to genuine equality. Failing to do this the play came across as a reactionary response to disability rights.

In ME (Mobile/Evolution) Claire Cunningham fuses dance, dialogue, music, and aerial to create two stunning solo dance pieces. Having weaved elegantly through the crutches of all different sizes and states of repair strewn about the stage, Claire begins Mobile talking to the audience about the crutches, almost humanising them.

As a disabled person it was incredibly refreshing to see an artist create a positive piece about mobility aids. One of the most poignant lines of text comes when Claire says she wants to fly and wants to take her crutches with her. The awesome part is when she builds a huge mobile using the crutches on the floor and performs a skilful aerial piece.

The second dance shows Claire’s Evolution from a young child to a dancer. The dancing is again beautiful but in a different way to Mobile. Claire has a lack of awareness of her talent adding to the honesty and self-deprecating humour of the piece.

The music, Singing in the Rain, is used to great comic effect when Claire parodies a ballerina. The show worked very well as a whole with the pieces perfectly complementing each other.

The performance was polished and incredibly engaging; I was moved, I was thrilled, and I laughed – I can’t ask for more than that.

Steve’s staycation

So for the first time in five years I’m not doing Edinburgh, my cholesterol remains at south of the border levels as the yearly intake of saturated fat has not occurred, and I still dare to check my available balance. But why?

Well, one reason is in doing four hour long shows in four years there’s not a lot left to talk about. There simply isn’t a mis-hearing or an innaccurate subtitle I haven’t plundered to put in a show! How many times will “analogy” come out as “anal joy”? ”Repechage” as “Rape-Charge”? Not enough if you ask me. I need to live a bit more and comment on it less, otherwise I’ll end up commenting on the commentary and disappear up an, admittedly post modern, black hole.

My other main source of inspiration, my wife, has spoilt things by being quite nice to me this year. She even increased my allocation of space in our ten foot fitted wardrobe and I’m allowed not three but five inches of space to put my stuff in.

The main reason I’m not going though is that since I started in 1998, when there were next to no disabled performers on the Fringe, this year you can’t move for them! So many in fact that I’ll stand out more by not being there. My good friend Chris McCausland flies the flag in his second solo show; we’ve been on the same bill so often we need a trial separation.

Five years we’ve worked together though in all that time, he’s never seen me and I’ve never heard him!

Looking forward to a successful Fringe in 2010, let’s hope England don’t win the World Cup or I’ll be overjoyed, miserably.