DAY 11: Variety abounds in every nook and cranny: what to do, what to see!

What happens when what started on the “fringe” takes centrestage?

It becomes a global celebration of everything art. For 78 years, the cobblestones of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe have witnessed the move of the margin to the mainstream. …And this year, it will also give volume to the 50 curated climate narratives that refuse to stay silent.

Storyteller and Arts Enthusiast Himali Kothari reports from Edinburgh.

Day 11:

Bars. Lofts of bars. Basements of bars.
Cafés. Café courtyards. Café attics.
Banquets in posh hotels.
Museums, churches, and libraries.
Street corners and squares. Parks and riverfronts.
Shipping containers. Yurts.
…And pretty much every space that can contain a performance. In fact, if you are an acrobat, you don’t even need to take up space on the ground.

During my first few days at the Fringe, there were a few times when I reached the venue only to wonder if I was at the right place. From a whiskey society to the national library one day, and a bar basement two flights down and a sunlit courtyard on another, any space that wants to host a Fringe event is open for consideration—once they have gone through the process.

The Making of Venue 13

Venue 13 is housed in the Harry Younger Hall at the foot of the Royal Mile. It became a Fringe venue in 1980 and stayed in business until 2020, making it the venue that held on to the same number for the longest period. Like many things, COVID brought operations at this black-box and courtyard space to a halt—until this year, when it was revived by the team of Ian Garrett and Vanessa Kelly. Considering that both Garrett and Kelly are driven by their belief in the partnership between sustainability and the arts, it’s no surprise that the venue is being run on the same principles.

Besides the CCTA programme every afternoon, six days a week, it also hosts the AI Campfire every evening—an immersive experience through which folklores are brought alive, giving the audience a pathway to bond with nature. For the inaugural year, the duo have also brought on board Soft Serve Cartel, which is running ‘Market 13’ at the venue and serving sweet and savoury plant-based delights throughout the Fringe. Don’t let the description mislead you—several oat milk soft serves and baked goodies have been tasted, tested, and thunderously approved by my palate! Vegan Italian and Sri Lankan food are also on the Market menu and on my list for the coming week.

Hopping between genres, moods and worlds

On Mondays, Venue 13 takes a break to regroup and recharge for the upcoming week, and thus I venture out more into the thick of the Fringe.

A search and scroll through the Edinburgh app informs me that there are three shows based on George Orwell’s 1984. I opt for Julia. 1984 at Summerhall, a cultural centre. In recent years, there have been many retellings of stories from the female perspective, and I am intrigued to see Julia’s story. The play takes off from the end of Orwell’s original. Released by the Ministry of Love, Julia reunites with her sister. But she wants to avenge Winston’s death. Will she find peace, or will she get sucked further into more mind games? The production brings out the darkness and despair of the original text, and I am happy to be out in the sunlit street at the end of it.

The other two choices for the day are based on genre.

The first is something I haven’t seen much of—burlesque and cabaret. Sassy Backbone Cabaret is being performed at The Three Sisters, a multi-space venue. The vibe is a marked difference (and an antidote?) from my previous outing. The burlesque acts are interspersed with small doses of stand-up. Laughter at the okayish jokes is generous, and the hooting and whistling at the sultry moves are laced with an out-there-for-a-good-time feel. It’s a fun hour, but not a genre I am coming back to any time soon.

I end the day with the Annual Haters Ball, an improv roast of any topic under the sun. Audience members are invited to write the topics they would like roasted by the four comedians and drop them in a top hat. The emcee picks out a topic at a time and the roast begins. At the end, audience applause chooses the best comic. There are some predictable topics like Trump and the British Royalty, and some very specific ones like “why I hate two-year-olds,” and a few too rude to be mentioned here. But in that room, everything flies. As the emcee says at the start—nothing is off limits and nothing is offensive for the length of this show.

Bits and pieces of the day’s acts swirl through my head. With the abundance of acts on offer, it is possible to feel overwhelmed by choices and to feel FOMO over the “best ones” proclaimed in lists. But at the end of the day, no matter which corner you turn, an act awaits.