I’m at the Edinburgh Festival, completely caught up in Festival fever. I wasn’t planning to come this year but in the middle of last week I realised I couldn’t bear not to; got myself a late hotel booking and left home yesterday morning – only to find that everyone who’d been at V festival over the weekend was also travelling, many on the same train as me. They were spattered in mud from head to toe, and had all been given blue plastic footies to wear over their wellies and plastic capes to put over their clothes as protection between the seats and their crustiness. They were sniffly and tired – hard to tell whether they’d had a good time.
When I arrived in rainy Edinburgh, checked in and went straight off to a show and carried on doing that with the odd meal in between for 48 hours. A veteran touring company performing in a Big Tent; an acrobatics show that was like being in Las Vegas for an hour; new plays by Enda Walsh and Torben Betts; a promenade that had been hailed as a work of art but I thought pretentious, shallow and ill-informed; a stage version of On the Waterfront. I don’t usually see any of the comedy because I’m there for work so focus on theatre….and anyway, the comedians always turn up on TV eventually. And of course there was masses I’d have liked to have seen but couldn’t because I didn’t have time, or it had already sold out before I decided to go up.
As ever, it was a wonderfully creative and inspiring experience. I’ve come back refuelled, and have also seen the work of writers and directors and performers who I’ll be keen to meet again. What I saw very little of, though, was good design. The Edinburgh schedule, which involves eight or more shows sharing each performance space, doing 20 minute turnarounds and having very little storage space, means that every year design is low on the agenda at the Festival. But it’s so very high on the theatrical agenda outside of the Festival, perhaps this is no bad thing.
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A glamorous evening at the Signal Style Awards. Wall-to-wall fake tan, fearsome cleavages, skyscraper stilettos. We were excited to be sitting with Robbie William’s mum (her son was at the time in my handbag, courtesy of my iPod); pressed the flesh with Mo Chaudry and Peter Coates. Outside there were jugglers and stilt walkers; on stage an X Factor finalist was strutting his stuff; in the toilets women were weeping hysterically.
We’d been nominated for Best Live Entertainment Venue, and sadly didn’t take home a gong, but had a great night nonetheless. We were glad to be at an event where, instead of being modest and quiet about our achievements, we celebrated the area’s gems and looked forward with optimism to a bright future.
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Hallellujah! Business Plan is now finished, photocopied, stapled and in envelopes waiting to go to the Board. That’s Round One over. Now we wait for their comments and rethink, rewrite, reformat as necessary.
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More work on Business Plan. Will it never end?
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I took yesterday off to spend with a cousin who was visiting from New Zealand, and brought him and another cousin to the Vic in the evening for a meal and to see Don Giovanni. The night out was a bit of a revelation. I realised I always see a performance at the end of a long day in the office; if I eat beforehand it’s a rushed meal in between other tasks or over a meeting; if I bring people to see it they’re usually other people who work in theatre. So it was an unexpected delight to arrive fresh and full of beans at the theatre; to take time over a good meal; to enjoy the show with family. This is the way most of our audience come to see shows, and it struck me that it’s good to be able to see the night from their point of view once in a while. Thankfully, having tried the exercise, I concluded that we were offering a great night out. I’ll definitely come again!
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