Hook Hitch gets its Edinburgh Fringe priorities right

THE website of Guildford's Hook Hitch theatre company says its actors "grab their audiences and don't let go". 

That's not all: they also grab their copy of The Edinburgh Fringe Survival Guide and don't let go. 

Here's the evidence (right), tweeted to me at @MarkFFisher only yesterday.

The company is bringing This Was the World and I Was King, a new play about childhood imagination, to Edinburgh. It takes inspiration from the poems of Robert Louis Stevenson as well as the girls who convinced the world that the Cottingley Fairies were real. 

One person taken in by the hoax was Arthur Conan Doyle who failed to show the scepticism of his most famous creation, Sherlock Holmes, in his willingness to believe in otherworldly creatures. That story inspired Peepolykus to create The Arthur Conan Doyle Appreciation Society, its recent Christmas show at Edinburgh's Traverse, as I wrote here.

A wild day on the Edinburgh Festival Fringe with Phil Nichol

HERE'S an article I wrote for Scotland on Sunday in 2007, about a day spent trying to keep up with comedian Phil Nichol. If you've never been to the Edinburgh Fringe before, it'll give you a flavour of this round-the-clock festival. More from Phil Nichol in this podcast here.

I've won. It's 1.30am in the Pleasance Dome and Phil Nichol is telling me that he's going home to bed. There's still an inch of beer in my glass. Victory. If only by minutes, I have outlasted this one-man force of nature.

But my victory is a hollow one. All I have had to do is spend the day trailing the Canadian comedian, winner of last year's if.comedy award, and that has been exhausting enough. He, by contrast, has had to spend the whole day being Phil Nichol, performing in three shows, directing another. When he wakes up again for his 8am jog, he will have to do it all again.

The day starts 12 hours earlier at the up-turned purple cow known as the Udderbelly where Breaker Morant is playing. Starring Adam Hills and Brendan Burns, it’s a true-life courtroom drama about military abuses during the Boer War (shades of Abu Ghraib) and is directed by Nichol for his own Comedians Theatre Company. Bearded and dishevelled, Nichol shouts over to me from the bar as I arrive a few minutes late (already I'm failing to keep up with his pace). He apologises that he's not going to be able to sit with me, but he's trapped a nerve in his bottom and is going to have to stand in the lighting box during the show. It'd be great if I could get out of the theatre promptly at the end so he can make his appointment for a deep-tissue massage.

The play goes down well with the early-afternoon audience and, as the applause dies down, we hook up again and leg it over to the Pleasance Dome. Nichol never lets up, shouting greetings to Simon Amstell and Adam Bloom, explaining how he was locked out of his flat last night after using his keys as a prop and leaving them on stage, and how he didn't get any sleep because of the pain in his leg. We meet masseur Zeb Shaw who suggests Nichol lies on the floor behind a large cupboard in the performers' lounge. Salubrious it is not, but on Planet Nichol there is not much option.

"You’re getting none of the nice stuff," says Shaw as he sets to work. It's unlikely Nichol would appreciate it if he did. He's too busy texting to notice what Shaw is up to. "I don't have time to lose," he says. "I'm organising my next show."

With his eye on the clock, Shaw tells him to forget the phone and sit up for some stretching exercises. "I can tell you your obituary will be a heart attack," he says. "You work too hard."

"I'll no' die," quips Nichol adopting the accent of his Scottish mother. "I cannae afford the funeral."

And with that, he's back on his feet and we're racing across to West Regent Street to the Bonsai Japanese Bar and Bistro where Nichol is to be interviewed by fellow comedian Lucy Porter for a Guardian podcast. A small entourage of PR people and promoters is building when, by chance, the Breaker Morant cast shows up for a meal. Nichol holds forth, plugging his shows for the tape recorder, ordering large quantities of food (this man needs fuel) and bantering across the restaurant to Adam Hills and Brendan Burns as if they're in a comedy club.

But no time for digestion. Nichol has a play to star in. So it's over to the Pleasance Courtyard at a trot to catch up with Lizzie Roper, Tony Law and the rest of the cast of Killer Joe waiting in the changing room. The black comedy by Tracy Letts is another production by the Comedians Theatre Company, this time with Nichol starring. Appearing in his underwear like a live action Homer Simpson, he plays the father of a trailer-trash family who hire a contract killer to bump off his ex-wife. The seedy milieu explains Nichol's hirsute appearance.

The performance is delayed while the ushers ask a mother with a baby to leave for fear of disruption, which means after the curtain call Nichol is racing faster than ever. We whip through the Pleasance crowds to a waiting taxi and head across to the Stand, while Nichol tries to wipe off the stage blood from Killer Joe's climactic scene. We make the comedy club just in time for him to change and do a sound check (for Hiro Worship he's joined by a three-piece band) and before you know it, he's up on stage delivering a blistering comedy routine about the nature of celebrity and the time he befriended an obsessive Japanese Rolling Stones fan.

If this set was the only thing he'd done all day, you'd be blown away by his ferocious energy and breakneck verbal delivery. Those who saw the award-winning The Naked Racist last year, say this one is even better. His delivery was faster still at yesterday's gig, says one of his band mates.

Just time for a top-up massage from Shaw, who's shown up for the gig, before we're back in a taxi returning to the Pleasance to meet Tom Daley, Nichol's co-director on Breaker Morant. Pretty soon we're swept up by a bunch of comedians gathering for tonight's Old Rope, Nichol's nightly comedy club dedicated to new material: whenever a stand-up resorts to old gags, they have to grab hold of the noose that hangs over the stage. The press are not normally invited to the cult club, but I don’t mind telling you it's a great night with top performances from the likes of Richard Herring and Paul Foot – and, of course, Nichol as compère, only slightly the worse for a Jack Daniels or two.

Comedian Nick Doody tells me about the time Nichol ran the London marathon and still did a gig the same night. Everyone is in awe of his stamina, which is why I believe him when he suggests going to Spank, the early-hours comedy club, to do an impromptu set. But on a Monday night with a painful trapped nerve, it's too much even for him. All the same, he's still proposing we go for another drink as he limps off into the night.
© Mark Fisher, 2007 and 2013

Hook Hitch Theatre gets its Edinburgh Fringe priorities right

AH YES, it's that time of year again when people start focusing on the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and, importantly, get their bookshelves in order.

Previously, we've seen top-quality book-related pictures here:
http://edinburghfringesurvivalguide.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/the-art-of-skyers-words-and-women.html

and here: http://edinburghfringesurvivalguide.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/hooray-for-blitz-sisters.html
and here: http://edinburghfringesurvivalguide.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/babies-puppets-and-swimming-pools-read.html

Now it's the time of those wise people from Guildford's Hook Hitch Theatre who, as well as making their own shows, their own music and their own puppets, are starting their Fringe campaign as they mean to go on – with a mighty fine pile of books:

 

Cash for musicians to perform at the Fringe

The Scottish government has just sent out this press release, which will be of interest to musicians based in Scotland and thinking about performing on the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Applications for support can be made from today via http://www.creativescotland.com/investment/madeinscotland2013:

Cash for musicians to perform at the Fringe

Funding scheme expanded to support music acts for the first time

The Scottish Government will expand its support for Scottish-based artists to perform at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe this year, Culture Secretary Fiona Hyslop announced today.

The annual Made in Scotland funding programme will receive a £100,000 boost and will be extended to support music acts in addition to theatre and dance in 2013.

The Cabinet Secretary was speaking from Creative Scotland in Edinburgh, where she met members of The Blueswater, whose 2012 Fringe performances earned the Edinburgh-based band a prestigious Mervyn Stutter Spirit of the Fringe Award.

She said:

“The Edinburgh Festival Fringe is the world’s biggest arts festival, attracting visitors and artists from all over the globe to experience the cultural and creative talent it has to offer.

“It makes strong economic sense to ensure Scotland’s own exceptional talent is at the centre of the Fringe and our artists are given opportunities to benefit from the global exposure the festival brings. Through Made in Scotland – part of the Edinburgh Festivals Expo Fund - the Scottish Government continues to demonstrate its commitment to doing exactly that.

“Since 2009 we have provided £1.6m through Made in Scotland to support 56 theatre and dance productions to perform at the Fringe and to embark on a range of international touring opportunities.

“Expanding the scope of the scheme to support musicians is a natural next step for Made in Scotland. For the successful applicants, it will provide access to fantastic support, expertise, training and advice, exposure to esteemed international promoters and funding towards performing at the 2013 Fringe.”

Kath M Mainland, Chief Executive of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe Society, said:

“The Fringe is the world’s largest arts festival and provides a unique platform for artists to showcase their work to the public and arts industry from all over the world.  Made in Scotland ensures Scottish artists can take  full advantage of the significant international opportunity provided by the Fringe. Expanding the Made in Scotland programme to include music is a natural progression and one which sits very comfortably within the Fringe programme as a whole.

“The Scottish Government’s ongoing support for the Made In Scotland programme continues to be invaluable as a means for Scottish based artists to present their work both to audiences and promoters at the Fringe and it is fantastic that this support has made it possible for the Made in Scotland initiative to be extended this year to include musical genres for the first time.”

Caroline Parkinson, Director of Creative Development at Creative Scotland, said:

"I'd encourage musicians based in Scotland, ready to take the step onto the international platform provided by the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, to apply for this new support available through Made in Scotland. The tremendous successes enjoyed so far by artists working in theatre and dance who have been supported by the programme shows the potential opportunities now open to those working in music."

Felipe Schrieberg from The Blueswater, said:

“This kind of program is perfect for a group like us. We've worked hard to succeed at the Fringe with our show 'Blues!', and with potential access to this kind of funding we can work on putting together a more ambitious Fringe show.”

What I learnt about putting on a Fringe show

The Butlers serving Tattie Shaw's fruit

THE series of six chat shows I hosted during the 2012 Edinburgh Fringe could scarcely have been more simple. The format was straightforward: me and three or four guests sitting in front of an audience discussing the various challenges of putting on a Fringe show for an hour. I did not have to worry about building a set, remembering lines, keeping up company morale or sorting out accommodation.

Despite this, it was remarkable to realise how much time and energy the show took up. Here are some of the things I discovered:

The responsibility of doing your own show

It is not unusual for me to appear on stage in front of an audience. I am quite often asked to chair a post-show discussion or a Book Festival Q&A session. Indeed, during the 2012 Fringe, I chaired four interviews in the Pleasance Bytes series - in the same room and at the same time of day as my own show.

I found it fascinating to realise how different my attitude was to doing this kind of event compared with running my own. Although what the audience saw was essentially the same kind of thing, I felt very differently about it. When I'm a guest on someone else's show, I take it seriously and may even get a bit of an adrenaline buzz, but I don't lose sleep over it. I do what I've been asked to do, then move on.

With my own face on the flyer, however, something changed. This was my show and its success was my responsibility. If no one turned up, it would be me who had to apologise to the guests and me who had to worry about attracting a bigger audience next time. I was confident the show itself would work (more on that in a moment), but I was much more conscious of the pressure to make sure the whole thing went smoothly and that guests and audience were happy.

The time it takes

One consequence of this was the show took up a lot of mental energy. Particularly before the first two shows, I found it difficult to think about anything else. The various tasks I had to complete were not difficult in themselves, but it was important I got them done. That, coupled with the initial sense of uncertainty about how the event would go, meant this simple show occupied a disproportionate amount of brain power at a time when I was also trying to focus on my job as a reviewer. I didn't have to do any of the physical labour involved in many Fringe shows, but it was tiring just thinking about it.

In addition to these mental demands, the show took up a surprising amount of organisational time. The tasks were not onerous, but there were a lot of them. Things I had to do included: sending emails to the guests to remind them to turn up; watching the shows the guests were putting on; picking up fruit to give to the audience from my sponsor Tattie Shaw's; carrying the fruit, flyers and copies of The Edinburgh Fringe Survival Guide to the venue; getting unsold books back home again after the event; sending emails to the guests to thank them for their time; promoting the show by flyering outside Fringe Central or on the High Street . . .

That was just for starters. Additionally, I had to talk to friends and family about how to improve the show; find replacements for two guests who had to pull out at the last minute; ask the Pleasance press office to circulate information about the line-up to other performers; send emails about the show to Fringe companies who had emailed me about their shows; use Twitter and Facebook to tell people about press coverage and forthcoming guests; do interviews with an American documentary maker, a blogger, a Times journalist and a festival radio station; appear on a panel at an event run by the World Fringe Congress . . .

Cumulatively, all these things meant I was thinking about the show almost constantly. If that is true for this, the most simple of shows - and just six performances - how much more must it be true for a major production doing a daily run? I managed to continue seeing shows and do a fair bit of writing (though less than normal), but it's easy to see how a bigger production would be all consuming.

The lesson: don't underestimate the time and effort it takes to put on a Fringe show. It's a lot more than the hour you are on stage.

The neediness of the performer

As a theatre critic and freelance writer, I'm used to being self-reliant and independent. It's the sort of job that appeals to the lone wolf. I was surprised, therefore, to find myself quite unabashed about encouraging people to come to the show. It was like I needed their support and validation. In August, Edinburgh is a city full of fragile egos, exposing themselves to public scrutiny. In my own small way, I guess I was one of them. If you are planning to perform on the Fringe, it pays to remember how exposed you may feel and to have strategies for coping with that.

My face on the flyer = pressure

Belief in your show

The core message of The Edinburgh Fringe Survival Guide is you should understand your motivation for performing. If you are clear about your purpose, you are more likely to believe in your show. And believing in your show makes all the difference when dealing with everything the Fringe throws at you.

Having written the book, I knew this in theory, but it was great to see how true it was in practice. Call it self-delusion, call it hype, but I never doubted my show was essential viewing. That meant I went out flyering with an evangelical zeal. I surprised myself with my enthusiasm.

Meeting my target audience, I genuinely believed they would enjoy the show. It was no effort for me to speak persuasively about it, because I was saying what I honestly felt. It would have been so much harder if I thought I was selling them a dud. In those circumstances, to go out flyering at all would have taken special reserves of energy, let alone talk to people.

The experience reinforced the importance of doing a show you believe in, remembering why you are doing it and  maintaining your enthusiasm and morale throughout the three weeks.

The book was right: I have survived

THE last of my Edinburgh Fringe Survival Guide: Live! shows was this morning and very well it went too. Had a great conversation with Camille O'Sullivan, Vicky Featherstone and Ben Harrison, and even did a bit of artistic matchmaking.

I hope to add some thoughts about the whole experience shortly - if you're impatient, you can read Philip Fisher's four-star comments about it in the British Theatre Guide or, indeed, my own in the Guardian. Or you can cut-out the middle man and take a listen to the podcasts here.

In the meantime here are my butlers whom I commissioned to serve Tattie Shaw's fruit for the middle two shows:

Lying In The Streets - Scottish Falsetto Socks at Edinburgh Fringe 2012