ED2011 COLUMN: With the world’s biggest cultural festival reaching its conclusion for another year, ThreeWeeks co-Editor and co-Publisher Chris Cooke, now back home, reflects on why, in the case of the Edinburgh Fringe, doing something to excess can be a good thing.

“Time at the Edinburgh Fringe seems to operate a little differently to everywhere else. While on one level it’s hard to believe that the world’s biggest festival is over for yet another year, at the same time – as I returned to London last night – it felt like I’d been living in Edinburgh for months when, in fact, I was only there for thirty days.

I find many members of the Fringe community feel the same way. Whether you are performing, or producing a show, or running a venue, or working in a box office, or handling publicity, or reviewing for a paper, or running the biggest review media at the Festival, while the Fringe month always speeds on by at a hell of a pace, looking back it feels like it all lasted a lot longer than just four weeks.

Presumably this is because, whatever your role, and even if you visit the Festival city primarily as an audience member, the experience is likely to be an epic one. You will squeeze into a few days or weeks what would normally take months to achieve, whether you are creating or consuming cultural output or, as in many cases, both.

For those of us running Fringe-specific projects, whether they be shows or venues or media or other initiatives, you find yourself going through the motions of launching, running, growing, honing, developing and closing down a business in the space of one month. It’s insane really. No wonder my brain is so frazzled by the end.

And even if there is a year round element to your Fringe venture, like ThreeWeeks, even if you started your preparation the previous September, so much can’t really begin until the start of August, when your project goes from concept to physical reality, that you are still basically building and collapsing an entire business in thirty days.

One member of the ThreeWeeks review team, too many years ago for me to remember which one, referred to their experience with us as “extreme reviewing”. It’s probably the best way to describe what our reviewers – some of whom saw and wrote about over 70 shows this year – are actually doing.

And I think that’s why, educationally speaking, the ThreeWeeks programme is so valuable to any young person wanting to pursue a career in journalism or the written word. My manta when giving my regular media careers lectures at universities around the country is always “if you want to be the best writer in the world, write every day”. The more you write the better you will become, and the “extreme reviewing” experience we offer participants on the ThreeWeeks programme is a fast-track way for aspiring writers to improve their art.

And the same is true for all the other people performing, creating and working at the Fringe – those taking part in ‘extreme acting’, ‘extreme producing’, ‘extreme publicising’, ‘extreme stage managing’, ‘extreme venue directing’ and, erm, ‘extreme standing-up’. Yeah, perhaps that should be ‘extreme being funny’.

Of course everyone knows that in life it’s good to do everything in moderation. But sometimes doing something to excess, for a short period, can be more rewarding and more fun. And the Edinburgh Fringe is all about excess.

At the end of last August I encouraged every one who had been to the Edinburgh Fringe that year, and enjoyed it, to persuade one person who has never experienced the Festival to come along this year. And I encourage the same right now. But this time I’m providing the sales pitch too. Tell your friends, everyone deserves some cultural excess, everyone needs some extreme cultural consumption, and the best place to get it is Edinburgh in August”.

LINKS: www.stuffbyme.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: River People are in Edinburgh this year staging their play ‘Little Matter’ in a rather interesting way. Our reviewer called it “a delicious, dark chocolate of a show” that beguiles the audience with “whimsical humour and charming melancholy”.

So, of course, we wanted to hear more from them: here, they tell us how the show came to be, and how the company ended up using a travelling wagon theatre. Cool.

“This year at the Fringe has been by far the most challenging, worrisome, expensive yet powerfully inspirational experience we’ve had as a company. We find it really important to create shows that come from an honest place. In 2007 ‘The Ordinaries’ was about my experience of abuse in my family, from 2008 – 2009 ‘Lilly Through the Dark’ explored Claire’s feelings of grief after the passing of her father.

Each time when we take a show up to the Fringe we are welcomed like nowhere else. Since 2010 we have been working on ‘Little Matter’:  it began as a story called ‘AngelRust’, then was picked up by the Edinburgh International Festival to be developed. Now this is one of the final versions. It is a story about change and potential, it’s the story of this chapter in our lives, about growing up and facing one’s inner demons. To tell it we use live music, puppetry and honest storytelling. And bringing it to the fringe, this testing place where we get the chance to share our work with so many people, where our company can grow, has felt like a significant chapter in that story.

Ever since we teamed up with Spinney Hollow, a woodland project in Fair Oak, Hampshire, and shared the dream of a travelling wagon theatre, it has been our joint goal to bring it to the fringe. Thankfully The Bedlam Theatre have been utterly amazing in helping us to realise that goal. Our venue is a bow top wagon with a fold out stage under a tent with material walls, all lit by candle light. It’s a space that we can call our own, a little bubble away from the bustle of other fringe venues where we can create an atmosphere and welcome each individual into our world.

It’s small and intimate, there might be the sound of sirens from the street, the distant overspill from the comedy venue beneath us, the roar of crowds, a chorus of birds, the sound of rain, of the wind. But it’s all part of the experience, and everyone is in it together. And by the end, hopefully… usually… the audience are so much a part of the world that it doesn’t matter. The venue that we have made is an extension of the show, an extension of our philosophy, that although entertainment is paramount, theatre should attempt to go further, it should provide an experience, that the audience should walk away with a thought, the gift of a moment.

And after the show there is no quick get out, no company queuing up waiting to get in, the audience can spend as much time in the space as they like. They can come and chat to us, hold the puppets and explore the wagon. This has been one of the most rewarding parts of the experience, getting to hear people’s thoughts and allowing them as much time with us as they desire.

Our time at the fringe has been so affirming, we know now that this is how we want to present our theatre, this is the experience we want to provide. There is so much potential within it, just waiting to be realised”.

River People’s show ‘Little Matter’ was performed at the Bedlam Chambers during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.theriverpeople.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: The Noise Next Door are wonderful, it is official. ThreeWeeks say so. And here they are, to offer their worst – and best – Edinburgh experiences.

THE BEST BITS

No Second Glances: “Oh look. A six foot black man in a glittery, purple, lycra one-piece with a dragon mask on his head and bananas for shoes”. Wear this in London and you’d be stoned. But during the Fringe people get away with being batshit crazy and it is accepted as the norm.

The Audiences: It’s such a pleasure to play to intelligent, comedy savvy audiences day in and day out. People have journeyed to Edinburgh specifically to see shows – they want to be there and they want to see you. You know that they’re just going to ‘get it’. As in the get the show, not a punch in the face.

Nyam Nyam: The finest Italian eatery outside of Italy. On our very first day here this year we walked passed Nyam Nyam’s spot on Nicolson Square to find it was no longer there. Granted he was drunk, but one of our members shed genuine tears in the middle of the road. Luckily we found out that this delectable establishment has moved to South Clerk Street and continues to provide infectiously tasty and affordable homemade pastas, pizzas, risottos and ice-creams. Go there – your mouth will applaud you.

THE BAD BITS

The Heat: How can a city so cold and wet have venues hotter and stuffier than the core of the sun? It’s ridiculous. Unless you’re lucky enough to play the EICC on a regular basis, you and your audience are destined to sweat over each other for 60 minutes. There is of course a solution. If you’re not bothered about anyone hearing your show, you can turn on 19 whirring fans and a clunky air conditioner from the 1980s.

The Name Game: What’s your name? What’s his name? Is he a name? I know that name. Should I know your name? I’d like to be a name. Name, name, name, name, name. Namedrop, namedrop, namedrop. Who cares?

Umbrellas*: Stupid umbrellas. With their sharpened metal teeth bobbing up and down, digging into the heads of unsuspecting comedians and making it impossible to pass. IT’S NOT EVEN RAINING. They don’t work in the wind, are nigh on impossible to share and make people dawdle. Wear a coat, grow some balls and let your head get damp.

*These are not the views of all of The Noise Next Door. Just the little Red One who is affected by umbrellas predominantly due to his lack of height.

The Noise Next Door’s show ‘Their Finest Hour’ was performed at the Pleasance Courtyard during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.thenoisenextdoor.co.uk

ED2011 FEATURE: So, you’ve thought of a theme, you’ve written the script, you’ve tested the jokes, you’ve shot the publicity pictures, but one big decision remains. What music do you walk on to? We asked a stack of Fringe performers what tracks open or close their shows this year, and why they chose them.

Steve Pretty: “I have a track called ‘Monkey’s Dance’ by the virtuoso Norwegian folk-jazz accordionist Stian Carstensen as my play-on music. It’s from a mixtape that I made when I was a teenager and it helps me get in the mood for the show as I jump around backstage giving myself a pep talk. It’s got a really weird mix of instruments, melodic non-sequiturs and frenzied energy, all bound together by a shared love of nordic free improvisation. Which, come to think of it, is a pretty accurate description of my show”.
Steve Pretty’s Perfect Mixtape, Underbelly, ffp155.

Laurence Clark: “I come on stage to the song ‘Dem Bones’ as my show is about healthcare reform in the UK and USA, although I worry audiences may get the wrong end of the stick and think they’re at some sort of evangelical religious meeting. However they’ll soon discover otherwise!”
Laurence Clark: Health Hazard!, Underbelly’s Pasture, fpp108.

Jim Smallman: “I walk on to ‘This Fire Burns’ by Killswitch Engage. I chose it as it’s the music WWE wrestler CM Punk walks out to, and I like to pretend that I’m oiled up and ready to grapple”.
Jim Smallman: Tattooligan, Gilded Balloon Teviot, fpp98.

4 Poofs And A Piano: “We open our set with the Dolly Parton Classic ‘Nine To Five’ . Not surprising as our show is called ‘Business As Usual’, and we wanted something along the working theme.  We are dressed, well almost, in suits so it seemed to fit in nicely. We close with the Sylvester Disco classic ‘You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real)’, it’s a nod to thank our audience and say, we want to be nowhere else than right here right now”.
4 Poofs And A Piano – Business As Usual, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp77.

Matt Forde: “D:Ream ‘Things Can Only Get Better’. I still get goosebumps when I hear the opening bars and remember Labour sweeping to power in 1997. My show charts my love of politics, sport and drink from that era until now”.
Matt Forde – Dishonourable Member, Underbelly’s Pasture, fpp115.

Iain Stirling: “Hundred Reasons – ‘Silver’. Because I came second in every new act competition I entered!”
Iain Stirling And Sean McLoughlin, Just The Tonic at The Store, fpp90.

Steve Hall: “‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy’ by The Andrews Sisters. It’s an old walk-in music favourite going back to the Klang days.  Hearing the same tune every single day of a festival usually makes me want to track down the songwriters and devastate their faces. This is one of the few songs not to elicit that psychotic Pavlovian response”.
Steve Hall’s Very Still Life, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp155.

Ahir Shah: “My entrance music is a section of the ‘Raag Ahir Bhairav’, the piece of music after which I was named, played by Ravi Shankar. My exit music is the same piece played from the beginning (usefully, it is 13 minutes long)”.
Ahir Shah: Astrology, Udderbelly’s Pasture, fpp35.

Delete The Banjax: “‘Janglin’ by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It’s surreal without being weird and it’s positive and upbeat without being annoying –everything we want our show to be …hopefully!  Some of the lyrics are pretty hard to make out but there’s definitely something about castles, jesters and kings – well that’s just Edinburgh Fringe isn’t it?!”
Delete the Banjax: Pigs & Ponies, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp66.

Deborah Frances White: “‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ by Joe Cocker because my show is called ‘How to Get Almost Anyone To Want To Sleep With You’  and one of the things I recommend is to wear a hat. I walk down the street in a bowler and at least five times a day a man will say to me “Nice hat” for which I read “Nice tits” which is something he can’t say, unless I’m wearing the hat”.
Deborah Frances White – How To Get Almost Anyone You Want To Sleep With You, Assembly Hall.

Pistol & Jack: “We’re a mash-up act and open with our biggest number. It’s got bits from about 34 songs in it featuring anthems from Dolly Parton to The Smiths to Chumbawumba. It’s an introduction to what we do: Rock vs Pop. It’s also a call to arms for the audience to say let’s smash it up and have some fun for an hour (‘let’s get retarded’), but also features an ominous warning of the dark side of the show to come with the Radiohead lyrics: ‘This is what you’ll get if you mess with us’”.
Pistol & Jack – Smash.Glam.Sex., Assembly George Square, fpp134.

Howard Read: “I actually come on stage to no music at all, accompanied, of course, by deafening applause. Instead I draw the audience on the projection screen as they come in to the theatre. It’s a great way of warming them up and working out what sort of crowd they are”.
Little Howard’s Big Show, Assembly George Square, fpp109.

Lloyd Langford: “I come on to ‘The Theme From Truck Turner’ by Isaac Hayes. Possibly the most bad-ass piece of music of all time. Also, I like to misdirect the audience into thinking I’m really a black pimp-killing bounty hunter rather than a pale and slightly awkward Welshman”.
Lloyd Langford: The Cold Hard Facts Of Life, The Stand Comedy Club V, fpp109.

Lorraine Sutherland, director of ‘Emergence’: “Unbelievably, we use the sounds that ‘Jupiter’, the actual planet, makes. The sounds are recorded in space – I’m not sure what with! We love it because it sets the other-worldly feeling that’s in ‘Emergence’. At the end of our show we blare out Abba’s ‘Chiquitita’ – a special song in many ways! We use it in Emergence as part of a childhood memory of a mum and daughter’s living room dance routines. It leaves the audience hopeful and probably a bit embarrassed if they enjoy it too much!”
Emergence, Underbelly, fpp259.

ED2011 COLUMN: The Lecoq-trained members of Rhum And Clay Theatre Company headed Fringe-ward for the very first time this year with their intriguing-sounding production ‘Shutterland’.

It sounded so intriguing, in fact, that we tipped it in our preview issue. Now we have seen it too, and rather liked it. So we thought we’d ask the group to tell us something about their Festival journey.

“From empty conference rooms in Paris to vacant bars and garages in Oxford: such unlikely places have been the breeding ground for Rhum And Clay Theatre Company’s first Edinburgh Fringe show, ‘Shutterland’.  Ever since we got here, it’s been a vibrant blur of faces and colours, a heady mixture of flyering, performing and stapling.

After arriving in Edinburgh it was a case of last minute rehearsals, a hurried tech in the venue, and before we knew it we were performing our first preview show. After a quiet first night, word of mouth spread and by the end of the first week we were picking up steam and a buzz started to build around ‘Shutterland’. This helped with audiences and then, when our first reviews came in, our audience numbers increased even more. What has pleased us the most has been the positive response from both young and old; only today we had a giggling six year old girl on the front row.

Certainly one of the most challenging elements of the fringe is convincing strangers that your show is worthy of their attention and hard-earned money. This is especially difficult when your company is only four guys doing everything from publicity to production and, of course, performing. However, a constant diet of coffee, bacon rolls and Vitamin C is keeping us on course.

We have all been consistently and pleasantly surprised at the warmth and receptiveness of the public, who have listened generously to us on the Mile and at various places around the city. We always aim to be accessible and open and this extends to what we do on stage. ‘Shutterland’ appears to be connecting with people in a way that has exceeded our expectations, and this is tremendously encouraging to a young company like us. We trust in the goodwill of the audiences at Edinburgh and so far, they haven’t disappointed us.

The show is in a highly physical, cinematic style and inevitably, this takes its toll on our bodies. Aching muscles, bruised knees and copious perspiration are all part and parcel of the theatre Rhum and Clay makes, but it’s all worth it. We’re having an amazing time and our audience seem to be too.

We believe in a progressive independent theatre, opportunities that are there to be made and taken. Through participation in the Edinburgh Fringe Festival we wish to develop and grow both within the company and as practitioners. Preparation for the Fringe has been tough and at times relentless, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Waking up in the morning to receive news of not a single sale for your show but then working hard to fill your venue is a satisfying, if not exhausting experience. The pressure of performing for an expectant public is what drives us, and the positive response of the audience is humbling and makes it all worthwhile. After all, of the 2,500 shows at the fringe, we are all artists who want to entertain, and it’s that shared connection that makes the festival such a great place to be”.

Rhum And Clay Theatre Company’s show ‘Shutterland’ was performed at the Zoo Venue during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.rhumandclay.com

ED2011 COLUMN: Writer Steve Hennessy talks about his ‘Lullabies Of Broadmoor’ quartet: four plays telling true stories of murder and madness from 19th century Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum. 

“I love the Fringe Festival and come up every year to watch great theatre, but have never brought a show here before. This is our first trip to the greatest theatre festival in the world, and we are all incredibly excited about it! It is something we have been working towards for many years. All of the plays in the ‘Lullabies of Broadmoor’ quartet have been produced before, but this is the first time we have produced all four together with the same cast. After Edinburgh, we have a 5 week run at the Finborough Theatre in London.

I have a background of over twenty five years working in mental health, and the subject is very close to my heart. For the last 15 of these years, I have been running Stepping Out Theatre, the country’s leading mental health theatre group. Every year we produce three or four small scale studio productions on mental health themes using theatre professionals as well as a large scale community play with 30 or 40 mental health service users. The power of creativity – and in particular theatre – to heal those recovering from trauma and distress is at the heart of all that we do.

When I wrote a play about a well known 19th century resident of Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum back in 2002, I had no idea I was about to embark on a project that would stretch across almost a decade. ‘Wilderness’ grew from my fascination with the story of Dr. William Chester Minor. A surgeon during the American Civil War, he had settled in London before being sent to Broadmoor after killing a complete stranger while under the influence of his delusions. Minor was famously involved in the research for the Oxford English Dictionary.

As a writer, I quickly found myself gripped and fascinated by the challenge of writing a sequence of plays for the same group of four actors, all linked by theme and setting, with some characters appearing in more than one play. Once the idea of a linked sequence had taken root, the project would not go away. Two plays eventually led to a third, and finally a fourth.

The older archives of Broadmoor are now open to the public and the archivist offered me access to original medical records and other material to help in writing the plays. The creative team for this production were also given a tour of Broadmoor by the present Director of the Hospital, looking at the old theatre there and other places where our plays are set. It was an incredible experience.

The very existence of Broadmoor goes to the heart of the debate about murder and personal responsibility. Chester Minor, a man completely insane for much of his life, expressed deep remorse for the murder he committed. But Ronald True, another inmate, was the complete opposite. The play he features in, ‘The Murder Club’, is set against the background of the 1922 British campaign in Iraq where British airmen and politicians, in the grip of a different kind of collective insanity, cheerfully bombed and gassed their way across a whole country without apology, murdering thousands in their pursuit of the British imperial project.

Each of the four plays can be seen alone, and works perfectly well that way, but seeing two will enrich the journey for the audience, and seeing all four will provide a special theatrical experience where each play enhances the audience’s understanding and experience of seeing other plays in the sequence”.

Steve Hennessy’s show ‘Lullabies Of Broadmoor’ was performed at C Venue during Fringe 2011.

ED2011 COLUMN: ThreeWeeks favourite Piff The Magic Dragon on his worst – and best – Edinburgh Fringe experiences.

THE BAD BITS

The weather: Piff doesn’t like the rain. It puts him out. Mr Piffles hates it even more. When you’re that small, Edinburgh is like a very hilly Venice. I’ve found him a discarded takeaway tray which he now uses to punt his way around town using a straw as leverage. He’ll serenade you for a biscuit if you’re lucky.

The tough crowd: There will be one night when, for no apparent reason, a whole room of people will turn up to see the show with seemingly no idea of who or what they’ve bought tickets to. They spend the next hour with arms folded, hopes dashed, glaring death at your face, itching to leave but determined to get their money’s worth. Who knows how or why they go so far out of their way to come along and have a bad time.

The paranoia: What’s that show? How many stars? Who’s in tonight? What television deal? Who’s casting a new sitcom? What did that flyerer call me? Etc etc etc. Snore. Snore. Snore. Compare and despair my friend.

THE BEST BITS

The freedom: Solo shows are a great place to experiment and expand on what you do. Everything in the show is there because I want it to be. Having worked in the corporate magic scene for ten years previously, I love that freedom. I’m the boss of my own show and that keeps me warm at night. That and Mr Piffles obviously.

The food: Last year I spent the whole month with Marawa the Amazing on a steak tour. Every day a different restaurant, a different steak. This year I’m missing my food buddy, so I’m having to sneak Mr Piffles in to keep me company.

The Honing: I do about 60 shows in a month when I’m up here, and by the time I’ve finished I return with whole chunks of new material that has been worked under the most testing conditions. Where else can you see how material plays at 3pm and 3am in the same day?

Piff The Magic Dragon’s show ‘Last Of The Magic Dragons’ was performed at Just The Tonic at The Store during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.piffthemagicdragon.com

ED2011 COLUMN: This August each of the three members of the ThreeWeeks Editors’ Award winning sketch comedy group The Penny Dreadfuls have brought a solo show to the Fringe.

Now operating apart, but with a combined knowledge of the Festival City that could fill, well, at least one page of a newspaper, we asked them each to submit a mini-guide to Edinburgh.

DAVID REED: THE SPECTRES THAT HAUNT THE FESTIVAL CITY
Edinburgh is a city steeped in history. One cannot walk her streets without sensing the presence of persons long gone. A chill in the air. An almost tangible sadness. And a discarded flyer for “Improvised Sing-along-a-Chekhov, C Venues, 4.13am”.

The air is thick with such stories. Many still told by the denizens of minstrels who wander her highways and byways, spitting at their tiny dogs as they ask for change. And this thriving metropolis we know today bears little resemblance to the humble settlement from which it sprang: A simple tartan mill and tiny cluster of kebab shops opened for a bet by King Edin himself over a million years ago. What memories have lingered on in that time? Which tragic souls have not yet departed her hallowed walls? Who are Edinburgh’s most infamous ghosts?

1. The Phantom Dennis  
A peculiar and off-putting spirit, The Phantom Dennis (or ‘TPD’s Free Fringe’ for short), has been sighted fairly regularly in the Grass Market area since the death of disco in 1984. His fluorescent glow, over familiarity and insistence on calling everyone ‘chief’ has been a constant burden on local businesses and tourists alike, prompting one irate visitor to declare “At first it was a shock! This figure just floated through the wall, you know? But, then he started hanging around us and things got awkward. I couldn’t have made it much clearer that I was uncomfortable with him touching my arm, but he just kept doing it! He even offered to carry my bag like eight times. Sort of ruined our anniversary”.

2. Mary The Bell-end
Spotted only twice in the last 400 years, accounts of Mary The Bell-end are hard to come by. But, some say if you travel by train between Haymarket and Waverley at the stroke of midnight, and listen very very carefully, you can still hear her leeching all your wi-fi bandwidth by watching BBC iPlayer.

3. The Creaky Poo of Auld Caledonia
Also known as the ‘The Dread Campbell Jobbie’; Edinburgh Castle has been plagued by this spirit since records began. Manifesting in the mess halls and barracks at the height of Hogmanay celebrations, the Creaky Poo crawls across the floors, ceilings and walls like a caterpillar, leaving a vile trail of excrement as it goes; all the while, creaking like a rusty gate. The experience of ‘The Poo’ dropping unsuspectingly onto your shoulder is said to be as terrifying as it is puerile.

4. The Shrieking Borough Councillor  
A terrifying and persistent ghoul, this creature has been known to sprint heedlessly around town screaming, “A tram system! We must have a tram system!!!!” before cutting off her own legs with a well worded letter of complaint.

5. The Ghost of Jarred Christmas Past
Since 2008, this apparition of the past performances of stand-up and actor Jarred Christmas has dogged the Kiwi’s Edinburgh appearances: compering gigs using slightly out of date material and interacting with audience members long since dead. The real Christmas is said to be sick of it and “seriously considering taking matters into his own hands”. He has bought a boiler-suit and a Dyson.

HUMPHREY KER: A SMASHING HISTORY OF EDINBURGH
When ThreeWeeks first approached me to write an article for them I said, “What? Tomorrow? Bloody hell”. But then I remembered that this is Edinburgh and realistic deadlines are for jerks and cowards.

In casting around for inspiration, I turned back to that oft visited well of inspiration for poets and artists of my calibre, Mother History. My show, an account of my Grandfather, Dymock Watson, and his attempts to end the war by blowing up the industrial framework of Eastern European countries is rooted in the rich narrative history of whatever he told my mother about it that one time at Christmas.

History is my great passion. So much so that I spent four years of my life studying it right here in Edinburgh. At the University of Edinburgh. Rather than one of the crap ones. BA-ZING! So, it seems only appropriate that I use this space to give you, the reader, a brief guide to the vibrant and exciting history of Auld Reekie (the city, not the ghost tours company).

The earliest evidence of settlement in the area dates back to the third age of Middle Earth, when Arthur’s Seat was known as Weathertop, the place where Elijah Wood got stabbed by the Dementors.

A series of invaders: Picts, Scots and Romans, shaped the burgeoning city opening their colourful and varied takeaways across the city. The construction of Hadrian’s wall almost destroyed the city as the stag and hen parties that keep the local economy afloat were turned back and forced to go to Carlisle and Morpeth instead.

Scotland’s fractious relationship with her southern neighbour is nowhere more obvious than in the nation’s capital. The famous castle was built in 1540 to stop Henry VIII of England from coming up and having sex with all of the Scottish nobility’s daughters, and the one o’clock gun that is still fired from the castle walls to this day was a signal of reassurance to the cityfolk that ‘Auld Gingernuts’ was still in London.

The Forth Road Bridge is in fact only stage one of a project to construct a gigantic Battle-Mech – abandoned due to spiralling costs in 1739 – that was originally intended to form the backbone of Bonny Prince Charlie’s Jacobite forces in their attempts to put the ‘Young Pretender’ back on the throne. In the Thistle Chapel in St Giles’ cathedral is the ‘Most Antient Booke of Pooves’ a great, thick tome, that contains the name of every Englishman who has ever wronged a Scotsman. It runs to some six thousand pages, and any Scotsman of voting age may enter a name at his own discretion, provided he answers the Chaplain’s riddle. The answer to which is 1976, Kenny Dalglish, Hampden Park.

Edinburgh’s history, however, is not all antagonistic. The University was founded in 1583 by a travelling troupe of performance academics. “The Mindly Mummers”, as they were known would tour the courts of Europe wowing heads of state by writing theses and demanding that all references must be clearly cited before their very eyes. James VI granted them a royal charter and funds to establish a campus, an unusual break with convention that some scholars have attributed to his raging boner for the dusky beauty Dr Paz Veron, criminology lecturer.

In 2001 the next great academic chapter of Edinburgh’s history was written when I arrived as a freshman History student and promptly failed my first year when I was forced, due to an administrative error, to take Gaelic 1A. I got back on track by dropping all my outside courses and the rest was, as they say, history.

THOM TUCK: A LOVELORN GUIDE TO EDINBURGH
Perhaps, like me, you are a hopeless romantic. Perhaps you can see the breakup coming, like a train hurtling ever nearer to the point of the track to which you are lashed. And, perhaps, you want that moment to be just right.

Well you’re in luck at the most joyful time of year in this fair city, for I can exclusively reveal the top five spots in Edinburgh to get that heart of yours well and truly broken; five places to have that pumping organ wrenched out of your pathetic chest and trampled upon.

1. Costorphine Hill
Standing beside the towering monuments of Calton Hill, up high on Arthur’s Seat, or by the Royal Observatory on Blackford Hill, there are many beautiful and dizzying spots that afford a panoramic view of majestic Edinburgh. Whichever hill you choose will be lovely, if the thunder doesn’t roll in before you get to the top… But Costorphine Hill is my favourite, mainly because there is a zoo on it. Most hills don’t have many tigers on them in this country, and more’s the pity. Take your beloved to the walk-through lemur enclosure, salute the penguin parade and then make it to the summit. When there, take in the grandeur before your lover crushes your dreams. It will hopefully start raining. The rain washes away any memory you have of being loved.

Also try The Highland Wildlife Park, where a polar bear recently died.

2. Cloisters Bar
Alcohol and heartache are as intertwined as alcohol and violence, or alcohol and regurgitation. There are a million places to get a pint and a dram while you’re in Edinburgh, but nestled at the west end of the meadows, in Tollcross, is the peerless Cloisters bar. With a dizzying array of alcohol, you can ply your dearest with enough honesty serum (I recommend a Dalwhinnie) to extract that little fantasy about slitting your throat so you cannot possibly speak any more drivel…  this is probably a bad sign. You’ll be left, crushed and alone, crying into your drink while all around you is revelry and real ale.

Also try The Penny Black, which opens at six in the morning. Depressing.

3. The Bruntsfield Links
There is nothing like a bit of healthy competition to lay bare the cracks in the façade of your failing relationship. Swing by the 36-hole pitch and putt course just beyond the Meadows to force all the tension to the surface. Then, when the inevitable occurs, the golf clubs double as handy weapons to destroy nearby flora in your pitiful love rage. When you and the putter are broken, sit on one of the handy benches dedicated to people who actually cared for each other and swig some Buckfast. You’ll fit right in.

Also try bowling, which is never romantic.

4. Stockbridge
Tucked away behind the New Town is the picturesque Stockbridge. Have a coffee in one of the lovely cafés and amble alongside the Water of Leith. When you get to St. Bernard’s Well, a crumbling well-house from the 1760’s, stop and have a little look around. Every year a single heron returns to summer in this beautiful stream. It is this natural beauty that will impress upon your beloved the ephemeral nature of existence and bring them to the crushing realisation that life is far too short to spend another moment of precious life with you. They will run away, without so much as a warning. Only then will you notice the man shooting up behind the statue of Hygieia, the Greek Goddess of Health. You will eat in Pizza Express alone, not for a moment enjoying your window seat.

Also try the Museum of Modern Art, for a similar effect, but indoors.

5. Rhubarb
At the beautiful Prestonfield Hotel amidst the peacocks and croquet hoops, you will find the delightfully opulent restaurant, Rhubarb. As you sip champagne in the Red Room whilst awaiting your table, take a moment to breathe in the gilded woodwork and antique furniture. When you have your table in the busy dining room, order a beautiful wine and gather up enough courage to look your partner in the eyes. There will be tears forming: they know it’s not fair to let this continue, but they’ve heard great things about the amuse-bouches, and are now stuck between a rock and a delicious place. Halfway through the main course (they’ve probably ordered sea bass), they will be able to take it no longer. It’s a lovely atmosphere that you are completely ruining. And the wailing only makes it worse. The cheerful and unfalteringly polite maître d’ will call you separate cabs.

Also try The Apartment, which is cheaper.

Or, you could try sitting in the Jack Dome at ten past eight every day of the Fringe.

David Reed’s show ‘Shamblehouse’  and Humphrey Ker’s show ‘ Dymock Watson: Nazi Smasher!’  were both performed at the Pleasance Courtyard, while Thom Tuck’s show ‘Goes Straight To DVD’ was performed at the Pleasance Dome, during Fringe 2011. 

LINKS: www.pennydreadfuls.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: For Fringe 2011, Dave Gibson and Charlie Talbot present a thorough investigation into the cultural, social and economic differences that occur across the British Isles today.

Well, they have a big barney about which is better, Dave’s North or Charlie’s South. To give you a flavour, we asked the guys to present their respective cases for regional superiority, offering some topics around which to structure their debate.

1. SOAPS
CT: Obviously ‘EastEnders’ is better. ‘Corrie’ is a live action Wallace and Gromit snoozefest in which nothing has ever happened.

DG: Rubbish. ‘EastEnders’ is a depression-inducing conveyor belt of grim moaning idiots where EVERYONE finds out they’ve been cheated on in the Queen Vic. Why would anyone go in there?

2. FOOD
CT: Obviously the South is better. We have a great variety of different foods.

DG: But up North we have a great variety of different foods… in pies. And everything is better in a pie. You cannot name a single meal that would not be improved by a pastry crust.

3. MUSIC
DG: I don’t care who’s got the best music. The South gave us three-fifths of the Spice Girls. And Mr Blobby.

CT: But Black Lace are from Leeds. I rest my case.

4. PEOPLE
DG: We all know, Northerners are the friendliest people in the world.

CT: Ha, your lot always bang on about this. Northerners always tell you that Northerners are the friendliest people in the world. They forget to add that Northerners are only the friendliest people in the world if the person they’re talking to isn’t from London.

5. SPORT
DG: We have the best darts player in the world. Phil The Power Taylor has fifteen world titles. Yes, fifteen…

CT: And one conviction for indecent assault in a caravan. Classy. Whereas the most famous Southern darts player was Eric Bristow, the Crafty Cockney. He was accused of punching his wife in the face but was eventually cleared. So that’s better.

6. POLITICS
DG: I don’t understand the credit crunch, but I’m pretty certain if you interviewed the men who caused it they wouldn’t speak with a Geordie accent. And all the cuts are being imposed by Southerners in London.

CT: Well, according to the North-South Divide most audiences set, Grantham is above the line. That makes Thatcher your fault, so you effectively closed down your own pits. And the biggest subprime mortgage offender in the UK was Northern Rock. The clue’s in the name.

7. MUSIC (AGAIN)
DG: We had the Beatles, the best band ever. And look at The Smiths, they were brilliant. Then Morrisey moved south and became a vegetarian racist.

CT: The Stones were cooler than the Beatles. The Beatles never ate Mars Bars. And they recorded ‘Yellow Submarine’.

8. ACCENTS
DG: You idiots say “glass”, when everyone knows it’s pronounced “glass”.

CT: No it’s not “glass”, it’s “glass”. You tool.

Dave Gibson and Charlie Talbot’s show ‘Battle of Britain: North vs South’ was performed at the Underbelly during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.charlietalbot.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: The Wrong Crowd are performing ‘The Girl With The Iron Claws’ at Underbelly this year, and it’s already drawn significant praise from our reviewer for its eerieness and the strong performances of its cast.

Director Hannah Mulder explains what inspired the show, and why fairy tales are still relevant in the 21st century.

“I first heard the story that inspired ‘The Girl with the Iron Claws’ in a yurt on Dartmoor, in midwinter. Twenty of us huddled around a wood-burner, to hear it told, in an oral tradition that surely stretches back as far as human beings have had language.

Stories, myths, folk tales and “fairy tales”, as they are so often dubbed, were designed as tools for living. It was only in the Victorian era that they were relegated to the pages of children’s books, de-sexed and sanitised.

“The Victorian version of our story involves the heroine winning her man by washing his shirt cleaner than any of the other women who might be his bride.

Whereas in our earlier, wilder version she has a pair of Iron Claws made for her so that she might climb a glass mountain, in order to rescue her beloved – surely an image of feminine power if ever there was one.

I believe that the stories a culture tells itself profoundly shape that culture and its people. Because many of these stories were written down by the Victorians, they have become frozen in that period.

Of course, we’re very grateful that they were recorded, otherwise we might have lost them altogether. But it’s time to reclaim their fluid, shape-shifting roots and unearth some of the darker, less saccharine versions and retell them for our age.

Of course children love fairy stories – they’re fantastic pieces of craft and mystery, honed over millennia to speak directly to something deep inside us.But shouldn’t we all reclaim these stories, young and old and use them in the way they were supposed to be used – as a route map for a more dignified and soulful life?”

The Wrong Crowd’s show ‘The Girl With The Iron Claws’ was performed at the Underbelly during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.wrongcrowdtheatre.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: Stand-up Lloyd Langford has come to the Fringe this year armed with facts. Lots of them. Though some were gleaned from a book credited to a certain Michael Caine. Lloyd steps up to the ThreeWeeks platform to share some of those facts with you now.

My show this year is called ‘The Cold Hard Facts Of Life’. I took the name from a country song by Porter Wagoner about a guy who discovers his wife is cheating on him, and then kills both her and the lover. Though I should add my new hour is about facts, not offing the morally deficient

In researching this show, I found one book in particular invaluable. ‘Michael Caine’s Not Many People Know That! Plus Michael Caine’s And Not Many People Know This Either! Complete In One Volume’. I bought it for a quid in a charity shop.

It’s a compendium of facts first published in 1984, and no doubt studiously compiled by Caine himself. Anyone who has seen ‘Blame It On Rio’ might have judged Caine’s lacklustre performance on the poor script, or possibly attributed it to a general limitation in his acting range. Truth be told, he was too busy assembling this mighty tome to fully commit to a sex comedy where he plays a 41 year old man who seduces his best friend’s underage daughter.

Anyway, I thought I’d share with you some facts from the book.

FACT 1: According to aeronautical science, the bumble-bee shouldn’t be able to fly.
Erm, I’m not sure this is a fact Michael. Your use of “according to” and “shouldn’t be able to” marks this out as supposition rather than fact. And while I know that a theory did circulate in the 1930s stating that, according to aerodynamics, bumblebees shouldn’t be capable of flight, the scientist involved was using figures and equations as applied to fixed-wing aircraft. And a bumblebee does not have fixed wings. Nor, is it an aircraft.

FACT 2: Nutmeg, if injected intravenously, is fatal.
Now we’re talking. Something that could prove useful. Remember kids, never share needles with a spice merchant.

FACT 3: A ten gallon hat in fact only holds about three quarters of a gallon.
Indeed. Not many people know that Sheriff Pat Garrett eventually gunned down Billy The Kid outside a kitchen utensil shop, after Billy became frustrated at his failed attempts to make a date and walnut loaf, and left his hideout to go and buy a proper measuring jug.

FACT 4: Both David Bowie and Elton John have admitted to being bisexual.
Mr Caine, I think your book may need a reprint.

Lloyd Langford’s show ‘The Cold Hard Facts Of Life’ was performed at The Stand during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.lloydlangford.com

ED2011 FEATURE: It’s coming and you know it. First performers and ticket-buyers bring with them to Edinburgh viruses from all over the world. Then no one sleeps or eats properly for ten days, and the Edinburgh climate soaks them to their skin three times daily.

Add the excessive alcohol consumption and too much time spent in dark rooms, and Fringe Flu hits, taking down with it anyone fully immersed in all things Fringe. But how to avoid the lurgy? Fringe performers offer tips.

Gateau Chocolat: “I’m taking everything that’s going. Echinacea, manuka honey, multi vitamins, vegetables, lemon and ginger, steaming; everything to keep healthy and ensure you preserve the quality and integrity of your show so as to present your work in the best light possible. Its hard slog doing a full Edinburgh season but its the underlying discipline
required for this career”.
Le Gateau Chocolat, Assembly George Square, fpp12.

The Suitcase Royale: “The Suitcase Royale have a strict regime of whiskey and Ace Ventura movies while on tour and very rarely are struck by the fringe flu. Being from Australia, we are used to much harsher conditions such as wrestling crocodiles, punching sharks and avoiding hostile gangs of koalas. When struck down, however, we have an emergency VHS copy of ZUMBA (the South American dance-slash-workout video) After a six hour workout we defy anyone to still be affected by a stupid flu…! Feel the rhythm! Feel the beat!!”
The Suitcase Royale in Zombatland, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp156.

Jessica Fostekew: “You know when you’re on your way home, after all your gigs, and your friend says ‘shall we just pop in Brooks for one?’ Say ‘No’”.
Jessica Fostekew: Luxury Tramp, Gilded Balloon Teviot, fpp97.

David Reed: “Any doctor worth his or her weight will tell you that the solution to this annual problem is speed. Not the drug. That only cures being too interesting. But speed of activity throughout Edinburgh. Your body is entirely capable of keeping you alive as long as you NEVER… SLOW… DOWN. Travel around at break neck speed, seeing shows, chatting and drinking until you pass out around 4am. Repeat daily until September”.
David Reed: Shamblehouse, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp65.

Asher Treleaven: “The best cure for Fringe Flu is a traditional Scottish breakfast known as Porrocca, which is a combination of rolled oats and Berroca. The porridge provides a long lasting slow release energy and the Berocca provides valuable B and C vitamins to help deal with hang overs and colds/flus. Ingredients for Porroca – 150gm Rolled Oats, 2 Berocca, preferably the orange ones. Directons. Prepare in small sauce pan with I cup of water or milk add Berroca and when fluid starts to simmer introduce the oats. Stir till thickened then eat rapidly from saucepan while running to midday gig at some place in a cave”.
Asher Treleaven: Matador, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp40.

Peacock and Gamble: “The best advice we can give about not getting fringe flu is to simply not acknowledge its existence.  If we have learned one thing from Nightmare on Elm St it is that if you do not believe in something it cannot harm you.  Oh and never go to sleep – that’s another thing we learned.  So if you don’t want fringe flu then don’t go to sleep. We may have talked ourselves into a corner here”.
Peacock and Gamble Emergency Broadcast, Pleasance Dome, fpp132.

Danny Pensive: “Fizzy vitamin C tablets can stop you getting it, but if it is too late, go straight home after your show and wrap yourself in as many blankets as you can find and force yourself to sleep until the next day like a hibernating hedgehog or tortoise. Do this twice”.
Danny Pensive’s Map Of Britain, Just The Tonic at The Caves, fpp63.

Tiernan Douieb: “I have two cures for fringe flu, depending on what sort of person you are. Firstly, do your show then go to bed, drink berroca until every drop of your perspiration is fluorescent orange and glows, chow down on all the fruit you can find, ignoring the pleas of your bowels and rest up a tad till it disperses. Of course, this option is mostly fictional. Far better to remember that alcohol has and is still often used as a disinfectant and by drowning your body in the thing you should clear the system of all ills”.
Tiernan Douieb vs The World, Assembly Hall, fpp158.

Kerry Godliman: “Prevention is better than cure: Avoid over exposure to jugglers, Lady Boys from Bangkok and bitter comedians.  If it does strike, stay indoors watching the most vapid daytime TV you can find.  You’ll slowly regain your appetite for live ‘performance art’ and trench foot”.
Kerry Godliman – Wonder Woman, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp104.

Emily Watson Howes: “Prevention is better than cure – hole yourself up like a hermit and for the love of God don’t kiss anyone. Even your spouse. Especially your spouse”.
Seminar, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp148
The Baby Diary, Assembly George Square, fpp42

Tom Deacon: “The best way to keep the Fringe Flu at bay is to eat healthy and not have fun. But if you can’t manage that then have a pint of the dark stuff and a plate of Oysters. Settles your stomach and nerves, plus there’s loads of minerals in the Oysters. Sure you’ll get odd looks but it’ll be worth it!”
Tom Deacon: Can I Be Honest?, Pleasance Dome, fpp160.

James Acaster: “The best way to overcome fringe flu is to eat properly, sleep properly and exercise but if you’re doing all of those things then you’re probably not at the Fringe”.
James Acaster: Amonst Other Things, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp94.

ED2011 FEATURE: With so many shows at this festival, and so many reviews in ThreeWeeks as a result, how can you find the time to really discover the hidden gems at the Fringe?

Well, we suggest taking a step back from the hub hub of the main festival, and chilling out for an hour or so, so you can do the reviews justice. As to where exactly you should chill, we asked eleven Fringe veterans for their tips. So, grab a copy of the latest ThreeWeeks weekly and/or daily edition from the nearest venue, or, where WiFi is on offer, logon to www.ThreeWeeks.co.uk, or if you’re a smartphone user fire up iFringe, and sit back, relax a little, and read the reviews…

Craig Hill: The New Town Deli on Broughton Street
“I mainly like to read the reviews in September when I’m chilling, but since I live in Edinburgh it would still be in my favourite little cafe ‘The New Town Deli’ where no matter what the review says the sun always shines through their big sunny windows in their happy little yellow corner cafe – the perfect place to while the day away with the papers”. More at www.thenewtowndeli.com
Craig Hill – Blown By Fan…!, Underbelly’s Pasture, fpp62.

Alex Horne: The Meadows
“There’s an amazing sandpit on the meadows into which you can chuck your children then sit at the side and relax. It’s not just a pit with sand in; there are climbing frames, funnels and a sort of industrial digger which must be dangerous. It’s also close enough to the pitch and putt to act as a bunker. As I say, perfect for the kids”.
Alex Horne: Seven Years in the Bathroom, Pleasance Dome, fpp36.
Alex Horne: Taskmaster, Gilded Balloon Teviot, fpp36.

Pippa Bailey: Edinburgh City Library on George IV Bridge
“I like to go to the Edinburgh Library on George IV Bridge, it’s beautiful and far from the madding crowd. I take the papers and my computer for a browse through competing opinions. I don’t know if libraries are threatened in Scotland but this one is well worth supporting anyway”.
Biding Time (A Year In The Making), Pleasance Dome, fpp243.

Catie Wilkins: The Forest Cafe on Bristo Place
“I really like The Forest Cafe. It’s a really lovely, chilled out vegetarian cafe, that feels a bit like a mini escape from the madness. It’s quite near the action, so you can grab a ThreeWeeks (from the Bedlam across the road, or there’s usually a copy in the Forest Cafe itself), then sit back and read it at your leisure without people banging into you… which would almost certainly happen if you read it in the box office/corridor where you pick your copy up from”.
Catie Wilkins: A Chip Off The Odd Block, Udderbelly’s Pasture, fpp55.

Gareth Richards: Spoon on Nicholson Street
“My favourite place to go and read reviews in Edinburgh would be inside the body of a comedian having better time at Edinburgh than me. Failing that, trendy, kooky, spacious café Spoon, at 6a Nicolson Street, would be the place to go. They do great tea and lovely food which is pricier than fast food but worth it. I think people get put off Spoon, as they think they will have to actually spoon with someone while being there, but I’ve been on my own and it was actually fine”. More at www.spooncafe.co.uk
Gareth Richards: It’s Not the End Of The World, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp82.

Dan Antopolski from Jigsaw: Mezz Bar on Broughton Street
“This unassuming café in the New Town is far enough from Festival hubbub to be a quiet spot for an extended coffee session and a read. Also, they make a great carbonara – I had it about five times last year”. More at www.mezzbar.net
Jigsaw, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp98.

Lloyd Langford: Black Medicine Coffee on Nicholson Street
“I go to the Black Medicine Coffee Company on Nicholson Street. And if I start feeling down about my job, I go to the sex shop around the corner to put things in perspective. I imagine a bad review is easier to take than being gang-banged by eight moustachioed handymen”. More at www.blackmed.co.uk
Lloyd Langford: The Cold Hard Facts of Life, The Stand, fpp109.

Jay Foreman: Pleasance Dome on Bristo Square
“The best place to sit and read the day’s reviews has to be the Pleasance Dome. For a venue with so many shows going on at once, it’s surprisingly quiet. And if after reading something unpleasant you feel the need to stare into space, what could be better than green leaves, cartoons on the wall, and the occasional old folk dancing the tango?”
Jay Foreman: We’re Living In The Future, Underbelly Cowgate, fpp 96.

Rob Deering: Cameo Cinema Bar on Home Street
“So many cosy cafes and bars in Edinburgh, but my absolute favourite has to be the one at the Cameo cinema; comfy and cool, top movie decor, good drinks and snacks, and most importantly it always reminds me of Pulp Fiction. I saw the film for the first time at the Cameo, at midnight the first minute it was released, and now I always raise a glass and think to myself ‘you can walk into a movie theater in Amsterdam and buy a beer. And I don’t mean just like in no paper cup, I’m talking about a glass of beer’. I don’t think Vincent Vega would ever worry about his reviews”. More at www.picturehouses.co.uk/cinema/Cameo_Picturehouse
The Rob Deering Experience, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp142.
Rob Deering: Beat This, Pleasance Courtyard, fpp142.

Catriona Knox: Stockbridge
“I’d head to Stockbridge and saunter along the Water of Leith, maybe sit on a bench. There’s all sorts of jaunty, wholesome goings-on to soak up there. A little dog fell into said water when I was there last year (don’t worry it was fine) so there’s plenty to perk you up and remind you there’s a world outside the Fringe”.
Catriona Knox: Packed Lunch, Udderbelly’s Pasture, fpp 55.

Amy Hoggart: My Aunt Fiona’s house
“My favourite place to read reviews in Edinburgh is Aunty Fiona’s house. It’s completely lovely. Seriously, if you are related to her I would really recommend inviting yourself round. She’ll give you a big cuddle and a cup of tea, and charge you for neither. Then you can sit on her sofa, and read the reviews while petting both her cats and screening awkward questions about extended family member relations and whether your boyfriend is inappropriately left-wing. Aunty Fi lives on the outskirts of the city so you can breathe either fresh country air or the over-powering stench of dung, depending on whether or not the farm next door are spreading. Time your visit around whichever smell you prefer while reading reviews, and say hi from me!”
Christmas for Two: Friends With You, Just the Tonic, fpp58.

ED2011 COLUMN: As well as returning to Edinburgh with his show ‘Alternative’ this August, ThreeWeeks favourite Andrew O’Neill has recently been doing the metal circuit. No, he’s not given up comedy for music, but he is finding an appetite for his comedy show among music fans. 

Which is good news for someone who’s always harboured a dream of being the next Freddie Mercury. This doing-jokes-for-metalheads strand of O’Neill’s career arguably reached its peak in June when he joined a certain Alice Cooper to co-host the annual awards of Metal Hammer magazine. We asked him to tell us what it’s like doing comedy for metal fans, how hosting the Golden Gods turned out, and what exactly was Mr Cooper like?

“Backstage at the Metal Hammer Golden Gods awards show back in June I came to a realisation: I was drinking another free beer, exchanging small talk with Alice Cooper and about to go back on stage to shout jokes at 1500 heavy metal loving teenagers. It struck me: “This is my fucking JOB”.

Ridiculous. The whole concept of being paid to show off for a living is ridiculous. And I’m increasingly convinced that sometime soon the world is going to turn round and say “so… you’d do this even if you didn’t get paid?” And me and Russell Brand and Lady Gaga will have to get proper jobs and do the showing off at weekends.

It’s a cliché that all stand-ups really want to be rock stars, but when I grew up I really wanted to be Freddie Mercury. My Dad wasn’t particularly happy about that. “Would you not rather be Brian May?” he’d say. “Nope. It’s all about the tache”, I’d reply.

Then, as my musical tastes developed, so did my aspirations. Public Enemy made me want to be politically active (and black), while Metallica made me want to make stadiums full of meatheads headbang. And that’s pretty much where I’ve remained. But the trouble is, I’ve always been better at comedy than music. I am in a couple of bands, but the comedy comes more naturally. And after the first time I saw Eddie Izzard perform, I realised I could do the whole joking thing on a stage and have an audience to play with that way. Which is what I’ve done. But then, being a rock star does still look like it might be more fun.

Which is why something like co-hosting the Golden Gods with Alice Cooper – or doing stand up at any of the metal festivals I’ve played this year (Sonisphere was amazing) – is absolutely perfect. I get to tell jokes, hang out with metal bands, meet my heroes and get audiences singing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’! So, a happy ending!

But I know what you’re really interested in. What is Alice Cooper, my co-host for a night in June, really like? Well, ‘Wayne’s World’ painted a pretty accurate portrait of the man. He is a gentleman. He has amazing teeth, lifelike hair and the bearing of a kind wizard. He doesn’t like swearing, he doesn’t have any booze in his dressing room, and when I asked if he was fed up of people saying “WE’RE NOT WORTHY” he simply said, with only a hint of weariness, “Well, I hear it about 40 times a day”. He has a calmness, which is pretty natural, I guess, considering all he’s seen and done in his life. In my experience the more extreme a person’s on stage persona is, the more grounded and safe they are as people. If you make a living from staging executions, you have little to prove off-stage.

The Gods were brilliant. Although not everything went to plan. The band I was most excited about meeting was Judas Priest. I’ve listened to them since I was 16, and Rob Halford is one of my heroes. Not least because he came out as gay in the 90s. This is a big deal in the testosterone-fuelled world of metal, although he did give us a few clues. Dressed head-to-toe in leather and chains, carrying a whip and singing songs like ‘Hell Bent For Leather’, ‘Ram It Down’, ‘Delivering The Goods’ and ‘Eat Me Alive’, he was kind of hiding in plain sight. I love the idea that because of him a whole generation of metalheads wore the uniform of gay men while still being massively homophobic.

Now, thing is, I made a massive, horrible, nausea-inducing faux-pas with Judas Priest. I asked Rob to sign my cut-off denim jacket. An allowable fanboy moment in a night of otherwise consummate professionalism. He obliged, and so did Ken (KK Downing) their guitarist. I was excited and skipped off to talk to the guys from Down about it. Half an hour later the two guys from Priest were getting ready to go on stage to collect their award. I asked Ken where Glenn was tonight. “Er… I’m Glenn,” he replied. I nearly puked with embarrassment. They do look alike, honest.

Still, I did get to meet Judas Priest. Other highlights included greeting Bobby Hambell, the guitarist from Biohazard, like an old friend, cos my brain told me I knew him (only from pictures, brain!) Happily, he has the same technique as me when it comes to talking to people in that sort of environment and he pretended he knew me too. We are now buying a house together. And one of the really cool things about an event like this is how excited the young bands are to be involved. In fact, metal now has such a long history that even middle aged guys like Kirk Windstein from Down can get excited about meeting older bands like Judas Priest.

So, I found myself elevated to the position of rock star for the night. I signed some autographs, blew my voice out, got drunk for free and looked in vain for a TV opportunity. I met some of my heroes, made some friends and convinced Judas Priest I am a dick. Which, of course, I am”.

Andrew O’Neill’s show ‘Alternative’ was performed at Assembly George Square during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.andrewoneill.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: Aisle16 co-founder and Poet In Residence on Radio 4′s ‘Saturday Live’, Luke Wright on the best, and worst, of his Edinburgh Fringe experiences.

THE BEST BITS

Arthur’s Seat: There’s a mountain in the middle of the city! I’m from Essex and you don’t get that sort of thing around there. Every year I make time to climb Arthur’s Seat, the 251m hill in the middle of Holyrood Park. You get amazing views of Edinburgh and a real sense of escape from what can otherwise be a pretty unrelenting festival. Once in a while we go at night, usually after a few rounds of Tennent’s, and one year we even took a night time dip in Dunsapie Loch on our way back down. Though my companion, Paul Foot, did later find a small dead fish in his underpants, that presumably swam in there while we bathed, so that bit is possibly not recommended.

Taxis: I’m not usually a taxi man. In rural Suffolk, where I live now, they cost about £300, so no one bothers. Besides, everyone drinks and drives in the countryside, it’s how we cull our stupider males. However, in Edinburgh, and certainly by Week Three, I get taxis everywhere. I’m chalking this up as a PRO point because, even though my reluctance to walk even a few hundred metres these days is probably a sign of dark mental malaise, it’s a blessed relief in the miserable humid rain. And you can pretend you’re a chauffeured star, even though Chortle said you were “over-rehearsed and stifled”.

Brooke’s Bar: I played The Pleasance every year from 2003 to 2007, then they stopped calling. I don’t let this worry me. I’m not welcome at plenty of more impressive theatres than that. However, I do still make it my mission at the beginning of the Festival to blag a pass to their performer’s bar, Brooke’s. Upstairs in the Dome, Brooke’s seems somewhere between student common room and nursing home. They always leave the lights on too bright and my ‘cooler’ friends always hated it there. But I love it, a place where performers can get together and drink over-priced fizzy lager, bitch about our reviews and audience numbers, and get hideously pissed. It’s always lovely catching up with old mates, and no festival is complete without being turfed out of Brooke’s at 4am by Pleasance founder Christopher Richardson himself.

THE BAD BITS

The Weather: The stinking, bastard weather. It never used to rain this much, did it? Did it? Really? Well, maybe I just notice it more now I have to wear a suit to my gigs. One of my strongest memories of Edinburgh is just feeling hot, cold and wet all at the same time – and not just while watching the Caesar Twins.

The Whole Review Thing: “It’s three stars, but it reads like a four”. We all want reviews. We need them to sell tickets. We especially like it when they are nice about us. Hey, we can even stomach the criticisms (Steve Bennett, you were right, we were “over-rehearsed and stifled”). But when a year or two of your life has gone into making something (not to mention the decades you’ve spent getting good at what you do), you can’t help but feel a little helpless and sad when it’s judged on a scale of 1-5 by someone who can’t string a sentence together.

Loneliness: I love what I do and I want to take it to a bigger audience. I also love the challenge of making a piece of theatre work night after night in a less than ideal space for that piece of theatre. I love the excitement of being in a new place, I love the sense of adventure. But I’m married. I’m a dad to a very young boy who misses me when I go to put the toast on. This Edinburgh is going to be hard on us all. I hope this will make me appreciate the challenges and excitement of doing the Fringe that little bit more, but there will also be tears before bedtime.

Luke Wrights’ shows ‘Cynical Ballads’ and ‘Aisle16 R Kool’ were performed at the Underbelly and The Banshee Labyrinth respectively during Fringe 2011. 

LINKS: www.lukewright.co.uk - www.aisle16.co.uk

ED2011 COLUMN: Fringe Society feedback shows that the number one reason for performing at the Fringe is professional development.

Every year thousands of young and new performers and creators hope to reach new audiences and, crucially, the promoters or producers or bookers or programmers or commissioners or collaborators who can help them take their projects, and careers, to the next level. If that’s you, how can you get the most out of your probably costly Fringe experience? Alas, just performing a great show isn’t necessarily enough.

Prodigal Theatre Co-Director Alister O’Loughlin has been visiting the Fringe since 1997, and started performing at the Festival in 2000. As the owner of a theatre company, he has been performer, director and producer at the Fringe. Since 2005 he has been a trustee of the Fringe Society, and is now heading up said Society’s recently created Participants’ Council. This year he is actually appearing in someone else’s show, and alongside Steven Berkoff at that, in the Festival Highlights production of ‘Oedipus’ at The Pleasance. But what advice does he have for those newer to the Festival, producing or performing in their first or second show, and looking for the Fringe to provide a spingboard? Read on to find out…

“One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was from the late comedian Larry Grayson, who in turn had received it from his manager on the eve of a big London gig. Larry had plenty of fancy clothes to wear but the manager insisted on a new tailored suit. “If you’re going to be a success, Larry, you must look like one”. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Personal hygiene often seems to take a tumble by the end of week one of the Edinburgh Fringe, but speaking as someone who has met a host of young companies desperate to sell their shows at promoter breakfasts; it’s difficult to believe the hype from a director who hasn’t shaved or ironed their shirt… Being the clear-eyed well presented one whose voice is still functioning despite the hour can set you apart from the crowd and will help you to be heard.

Do your research. Yes, it is an arts festival, but it is also the biggest open-market place you’re ever going to encounter and it pays to remind yourself of that. We all know it costs to get here, and it costs to stay here, and it costs to come back here, so you need to be clear what your investment is for!

The feedback the Fringe Society receives tells us that professional development is the number one reason performers attend this festival. That clearly means there are lots of opportunities, but it also means there is lots of competition. If you are here to progress your career in the arts, you need to plan. Find the networking sessions, plan your attendance and push yourself forward. Few artists enjoy selling their own work, but it needs to be done and you need to have clearly articulated in advance what your work is, why you make it and why you believe it should travel.

Promoters understand that very few companies in Edinburgh are performing in the conditions they’d choose to be seen in, and they take that in to account. But when it comes to sitting down and talking about taking a performance on, promoters will expect you to know how much you cost, how your cast and set travels, what technical requirements you have and what you have done/will do to promote the piece yourself. And be prepared to haggle…but not to compromise yourself. If you don’t believe in its value no one else will.

Eat well. It’s too easy to forget, ignore or suppress with alcohol your hunger but the Fringe is an ultra-marathon of performance and you need to look after yourself. Berocca will only get you so far, and Edinburgh is a great place to get good food cheap. Especially recommended is the veggie jacket spud shop just off the High Street. Likewise, sleep is your friend and it pays to do it in a bed, rather than someone else’s show.

Talk to people. Everyone who has worked the Fringe has advice. The best of course is available from the Fringe Society, and anyone who is really interested in using the Fringe to develop professionally should join to take advantage of all that is on offer, AND to contribute to the direction the Fringe festival takes. But other performers, promoters, and venue staff will know good tactics to employ to get the best out of your time here, and they may well be venue specific.

See work that is on the same scale or deals with the same themes as your own. Know what other people are doing in the same field as you and also follow which shows are getting a buzz. People will expect you to be clued in to what’s happening as the Fringe develops, so keep reading ThreeWeeks and the other Fringe press and keep an ear to the ground.

Usually here’s where we say “and enjoy it!”. But actually, WORK IT, and if you do, the enjoyment will follow. No sane person would pay out the money and put in the effort it takes to perform at the Fringe for a month purely for their own enjoyment. The enjoyment is in the work, and the people who get the most from attending the Fringe are the ones who are prepared to earn it. Good luck!”

Alister O’Loughlin appeared in ‘Oedipus By Steven Berkoff (After Sophocles)’ at the Pleasance Courtyard during Fringe 2011. 

LINKS: www.prodigaltheatre.co.uk – www.edfringe.com – www.festivalhighlights.com

ED2011 COLUMN: Award-nominated Edinburgh regular Zoe Lyons on her worst – and best – Edinburgh Fringe experiences.

THE BAD BITS

Rain: Only a fool would expect to come away from an August spent in Edinburgh with a golden tan, but some years the weather really does take the piss. The weather in 2008 was borderline horrific. The rain was biblical and unrelenting. It gave the cobble streets a tinge of medieval misery. People standing in the street flyering were starting to develop trench foot (and this is not an exaggeration!). I did many gigs in jeans that were soaked up to the knee where I had sucked up puddles through osmosis. I took to wearing an anorak and shorts so there was less material to get wet. 2008 was the year I left the Festival with gills.

That one day: It’s guaranteed that every year I do the festival, there is THAT ONE DAY. That day when you can stand the festival and all it has to offer not a second longer. The day when your entire audience appears to enjoy your show as much as they would enjoy an unannounced rectal probe. The day when someone you don’t like bounds up to you and announces that they saw your review and then they make a sucking in of air sound. The day when you learn everyone but you is doing a big gala show. The day someone has ripped down all your posters. This usually happens about 18 days into the Festival and I hate that day.

The student show: Comics, me included, poke fun at the students prancing about the Royal Mile promoting their plays. But I have been one of those prancing idiots. Many moons ago I did a student play on the Fringe, a really heavy piece by Max Frisch about anti Semitism. For three weeks I walked up and down with a hessian sack on my head with my fellow thespians. Every so often we would strike a dramatic pose, screaming at the passers-by from under our sacks. What a monumental prat I must have looked. I would have punched me!

THE BEST BITS

Nomination: I took my first solo show to Edinburgh in 2007 and was nominated for the Comedy Awards’ Best Newcomer gong, and I have to admit I was thrilled to bits. In fact, I celebrated with a glass of fizz in Harvey Nicks, darlings! Doing your first show can be really nerve-wracking, and it was just such a relief to feel that what I was doing wasn’t total crap. Obviously, looking back I realise some of it was crap, but not all of it; and that is the important part, people.

Joan Rivers: One of the things I love about the Festival is that an entire bag of comedy tricks is dropped on the city. People taking their first steps in comedy can sometimes appear on the same late night bill as a comedy superstar. And every now and again you get to see a legend perform. In 2008 Joan Rivers was taking part in the Fringe and I saw her do an hour and half show after midnight in a shockingly hot room and she was awesome. In an industry that can sometimes feel obsessed with skinny-jeaned youth, she is a 78 year old inspiration with a potty mouth.

Doing a cracking late night gig: I tend to do a lot of extra gigs while in Edinburgh and I still get a buzz doing the late night ones. When they go well, that is. There is always an element of ‘danger’ associated with doing late night gigs because they really can go either way: a couple of years ago I remember closing ‘Spank’ at the Underbelly for the first time. I didn’t hit the stage till nearly 3am, and the crowd were hot, and very very drunk. I had a cracking time, and the mixture of relief, adrenaline and a late night bathe in boozy heat is what the Fringe is all about.

Zoe Lyon’s show ‘Clownbusting’ was performed at the Pleasance Courtyard during Fringe 2011.

LINKS: www.zoelyons.co.uk