DAY 17: Lessons from Nature and History and Hamlet Goes to the Circus
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 17:
A few years ago, non-athlete Naomi Johnson took off on a cycling trip that stretched 20,000 kms and crossed 26 countries. In her book The World at 15mph, Johnson describes how taking life at a cycle’s pace helped her gain new perspectives.
For the CCTA event today, Johnson has selected three plays that look into the past for lessons to serve our future. She is joined by Boston-based theatre practitioner Naomi Bates and Dr. David Jones, who brings his knowledge as a research biologist and stage presence as a stand-up comic to deliver an engaging reading.
Do you remember your earliest interaction with the natural world, when you were a child? What if we could hold that memory—that moment of wonder? Would that help sustain the world until the planet’s renewal arrived?
The Project Hope by Catherine Banks advocates for our memories as kinetic energy, and suggests that if we recalled our pure memories of the natural world, we could create a nourishing energy for the earth.
“I think children are enthralled with the wonder of all living things, but most people lose this in the busyness of life. My play is about remembering that wonder and using it as a blueprint to reconnect to nature, and then to fight for all the beauty we are losing,” she says.
Starving to Death in Midtown by Mindi Dickstein is written in the form of a monologue delivered by a bee. About ten years ago, Dickstein came across some news stories about bees in New York forming hives on inanimate objects. She saw it as a cry for help from a species that had been shunted out of its natural habitat because of human activities. Through her play, she questions whether humans today are any different. As the defenseless among us come under attack and concepts of safety and home become alien, are we better off than the bees?
The play ends with a heartfelt plea from the last bee standing, at the brink of death from starvation: What does it take to stop the pesticides and the pollution, the hate and the disregard that are destroying us? Don’t let my death be in vain. Save the bees. Save my people.
The book A Good War: Mobilizing Canada for the Climate Emergency by Seth Klein is the inspiration behind Marcus Youssef’s So Beautiful Today, So Sunny. Canada’s national mobilization during World War II is a well-established fact. The book suggests using it as a model to respond to the climate crisis. Klein is Youssef’s neighbour and friend, and the play is a verbatim reproduction of their conversation. In the play, the characters of Klein and Youssef are aware of the purpose of the chat and that it will be made public.
“The dance between public and private speech feels to me like a useful way to investigate this subject,” says Youssef.
In his book, Klein suggests looking into history for answers: History is full of surprises of how quickly we pivot if and when we recognize emergencies for what they are. And each society has to excavate its history for those relevant examples.
Gymnast Hamlet Lands with a Near-perfect Dismount
Is it even a performance festival if Hamlet does not show up? And since we are at the world’s largest one, it is only right that the Bard’s most favoured hero makes his presence felt at the Fringe in various reimagined forms. From a one-man spoken word to tragic-experimental to comical reinterpretations, these are the ones where Hamlet takes centrestage—and then there are others where he is in an ensemble with other Shakespearean heroes.
From the smorgasbord of delectable choices laid out in front of me, I choose the physical theatre and circus format, mainly because I haven’t seen any physical theatre so far. And there is one line in the description that sounds promising: The ghost of Hamlet’s father soars high above the young prince.
The stage is minimalist, with the harness suspended from the high ceiling occupying centrestage; it is clear that acrobatics are going to be the mainstay of this retelling of Hamlet. The energy explodes on the stage from the first sequence as the dancers glide across the stage and then launch into effortless jumps, somersaults, and perfect mounts and dismounts. The choreography blends neatly into the story, and the circus act never jars the emotional tilt of the plot. I am also happy to see two of my favourite Hamlet characters—Rosencrantz and Guildenstern—get their time under the spotlight despite the plot being compressed into an hour.
As I step out of the show, I am handed a pamphlet for another Hamlet-based reimagination. This time Hamlet is played by a female, and the spirit of the father haunts her coat. The description does not even commandeer an eyelid bat or an eyeball roll… I mean, why not? In the Victorian era, Shakespeare’s work was celebrated as sacred text, and the Victorians may all roll around in their graves at these newfangled versions. But Shakespeare, I think, would have been intrigued and maybe even impressed. He would have rolled over in his grave, but only to settle comfortably for the best view.
