DAY 15: The Times Gone Past Play on the Palate and the Palette
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 15:
My earliest travel memories from when I was a child include a huge bag of homemade snacks that was so consistently a part of all family trips that it would have been beneficial to get it a frequent flyer card. This was especially true because of the lack of vegetarian (add pure for emphasis!) options. In the last few years, veganism has taken the world by storm and made it possible for me to consciously uncouple from the snack bag.
The veggie traveller has also stamped their existence on most carnivore menus, in many cases challenging age-old traditions. Case in point – haggis, Scotland’s national dish that goes back centuries. The original recipe calls for sheep offal combined with herbs, spices, and oatmeal, all brought together into what resembles a large meatball, and cooked into a form far more appetising than the ingredient list might suggest.
The vegan version substitutes the offal with mushrooms and lentils. The ingredients may cause purists to get their kilts in a bunch, but for a vegetarian with an experimental palate, it is an opportunity for the taste buds to dance to the bagpipes.
And thus, I find myself at the Scottish Storytelling Centre, contentedly tucking into a vegan haggis topped with their signature whiskey-mustard sauce. And the proverbial cherry on top is a short but delightful performance of Robert Burns’ Address to the Haggis by Mark Hannah. A portion of haggis is brought to the table in front of Hannah, and as he recites, he brings a dagger towards it.
“But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his ample fist a blade,
He’ll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off,
Like heads of thistles”
…he recites before stabbing the helpless haggis.
My next stop is a Greek restaurant. Not for the food, but for a spoken word performance in the basement. It is a fast-food, order-through-screens kind of a place, which should have been a warning to heed. I didn’t, and so I must pay—fortunately with time and not money. Small mercies! The basement is an active storage space cluttered with what-nots. The ‘performer’ reads her script. Her props are scattered in a heap behind her and are inconsequential. Every fifth word is ‘anyway.’ Restaurant staff troop in and out to stow away stuff, stomping and slamming doors in the process. The only reason I don’t walk out is that there are four people in the audience, making an inconspicuous escape impossible. So, I count sheep to stay awake and run out before she begins her ‘thank you’ end lines.
The Old in the Green New Deal is A Big Deal
The term Green New Deal made its first appearance in 2008 in a report written in Great Britain. It was based on the understanding that the economy and the ecosystem have a symbiotic relationship, and their growth and survival are dependent on each other. Over the years, the term has gained global mileage and has found its way into all global discussions about the future. But for the desired impact, all countries must be equal participants in the conversation.
That, however, is easier said than done, because the economic stature of every country is widely disparate. How, then, can they all show up at the same table for an open conversation, confident of being heard?
Dylan Van Den Berg’s play The Consultation brings this situation to light. Through his play, Berg suggests that for the world to survive the climate crisis, no voice should be ignored—especially the voices of First Nations people, as they carry the wisdom and practices of their ancestors, the oldest inhabitants of these lands.
“The answer’s sittin’ up in our brains, just waitin’ to come out.
But the truth’s like a whisper, ain’t it?
Will take more than me to cure the world’s deafness, that’s what I know,”
says the First Nations person, reiterating the need to listen to every voice.
Many of those who answered CCTA’s open call are artists who have created work that aligns with the CCTA mission to use theatre and storytelling to make an impact in the world we live in. The next presentation today is a reading of excerpts from OUDH: origin, written and performed by Aisha Lesley Bantham.
Inam Bonai discovers that she is to spend the rest of her life preparing to become a tree. From disbelief to slow acceptance, Inam transcends through the process with the help of various guides who assist her in reconciling with the decisions of many lifetimes ago. Bantham uses her voice effectively to flit between the various characters and also brings in musical elements to support the storytelling. She is supported by the narration of Alicia Lewis, whose subtle tone and understated presence provide the perfect backdrop for Bantham’s vivid telling of the story. The text is witty and poetic. The musical stylings are on point. Lewis’s voice is the foil, and Bantham’s voice mesmerises. The result is an audience captivated for 45 minutes.
The Greek tragedy from the earlier part of the day is forgotten and replaced by the magic of the latter part. Thankfully, some mis-decisions don’t carry on for lifetimes and can be laid to rest before the end of the day!
