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Scotsman
an hour ago
- Scotsman
Four Edinburgh Fringe performers on the incredible true life stories behind their shows
Each year the Fringe is full of powerful and deeply personal true life tales. We asked four performers to share theirs. Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter, get the latest news and reviews from our specialist arts writers Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Karen Houge on the refugee trail across Europe Karen Houge: 'I followed refugees across Europe' Back in October 2015, I was making a documentary about the refugee crisis in Europe. I was on Lesvos, a Greek island where 3,000 boat refugees arrive every day. I met seven Syrian men on the beach and followed them for a day. That evening, they asked if I wanted to join them on the refugee trail across Europe to Germany. I check my calendar. Ten days until I start Clown School in France. I call my parents: Me: 'What do you think I should do?' Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Them: 'Follow seven Syrian men along the refugee trail? Are you crazy? Of course you should! What an opportunity!' With my parents' blessing, I go. At first, I travel as myself: Norwegian, blonde, 25. Everyone's kind – the police, the mafia, European volunteers, other refugees. 'You're so brave!' they say, adding me on Facebook. But no one compliments my Syrian friends, who are wiser, warmer, funnier and braver than me. A few countries in, I have to go undercover. I pretend to be a Syrian, Muslim woman. Everything shifts. No smiles. No Facebook requests. The police and mafia look at me with suspicion. They are scared. And when people in power are scared, they can attack. I got the opportunity to physically feel how your looks, your passport and your religion shape how the world treats you. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Originally I made a one hour clown-burlesque show for Edinburgh this year, but in a time of war and polarization I felt the urge to throw the whole show and start again. I went to London and sought help from my good friend and previous classmate, comedian Elf Lyons. Could I use some of my experience as an undercover refugee in Europe to say something about trust and the importance of global narratives? And can it be funny? Spoiler alert: I reached Clown School. Karen Houge: Dreamgirl, Underbelly Cowgate, 8.10pm, until 24 August KC Shornima | By Dev Bowman KC Shornima: 'I grew up in a civil war.' The Nepali Civil War started soon after I was born. When I was 18 I went to Egypt, and within three weeks of me being there there was a revolution that resulted in a regime change. And now I'm in America, some would say, as the country is collapsing. I'm like the horsemen of the political apocalypse. I'm honestly worried about what will happen to the UK in the month I'm there. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad I wanna be upfront here: our war wasn't like war-war. It's not like there were constant bombings and stuff, but there was a general sense of fear that ran through my childhood. Maybe because when I was a kid, my babysitter used to say that if I didn't finish my meal or go to bed on time, she would let the Maoist guerillas take me. It's a brilliant tactic. Try it with your kids. Tell them ISIS will come get them if they don't go to bed. And see if they grow up to be adjusted adults. Our war was low-key passive aggressive. The Maoists would make demands from the government and shut down the country until their demands were met. It's kind of like when your partner gives you the silent treatment. They'd threaten to shoot anyone out in the streets on sight. So, okay, it wasn't exactly like the silent treatment, but still it wasn't air raids and missiles. I don't want to minimise it. There were atrocities and death and devastation. But generally on a day-to-day, we put our heads down and continued on with life. The show is not really about the war at all, just FYI. The war played a role in making me good at compartmentalising emotions, detaching myself emotionally to deal with a world that was out of my control. And the show explores how those learned behaviours are affecting my current – very safe and comfortable– life. But it's funny. KC Shornima: Detachment Style, Pleasance Courtyard, 6.10pm, until 24 August Elis Pear Elis Pear: 'I had to do sex work to fund my PHD' Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad In 2020 I moved to London on a sandwich scholarship, part of my PhD, that allowed me to study for a year at one of the UK's top universities and work at a major museum. It was a dream opportunity. I arrived just weeks before the first lockdown. The museum closed, the university shut down, and my scholarship was postponed. My bursary—meant to be collected in person—was frozen. But I had already paid for my flights and accommodation. I spent the next year burning through my savings. By the time restrictions lifted in 2021, I was completely broke. My husband helped me a lot and could have supported me more if I had asked, but I've always been too proud to ask for help. That stubbornness is a theme that runs through the show. Coming back from our honeymoon, I was wrongfully deported. Before flying, I'd contacted the Home Office to check whether I could re-enter on a tourist visa and apply for my spouse visa from the UK, something they were temporarily allowing due to global visa centre closures. I received an email confirming I could. But when I landed, I was told that advice had been sent in error by a contractor the Home Office had hired to manage their communications. I was sent back alone, with no clothes, little money, and nowhere to go, to a country I'd only transited through. It took months to reunite with my husband. In the meantime, I lived in temporary accommodation, on the edge of homelessness. That's where I first met women in the adult industry - survivors in every sense. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad When I finally got my visa and returned to the UK, I was still in debt. I signed with modelling agencies, worked in adult clubs as a hostess — an entry point into sex work — and did admin for online adult content platforms. I never had a performing role in the industry but I saw how thin the line is between survival and stigma. I got out within a year, but the anxiety has stayed. It's a toxic environment, even when you're not touching anyone. Recently, I received an anonymous blackmail threat to expose my involvement in the adult industry. So I wrote a show instead. Bitter Baby, my debut at the Edinburgh Fringe, was born from that chaos. It's a one-woman play about immigration, neurodivergence, language, and survival in systems designed to break you. Dark, funny, and brutally honest—because sometimes, truth is the only way to reclaim your voice. Bitter Baby by Elis Pear, Le Monde, 2pm, until 25 August Living on The Moon Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Molly McFadden: 'My mother died from Alzheimer's. Now I have it too' Almost 30 years after my mother passed away from complications of Alzheimer's disease in the mid-1990s, I discovered in 2023 that the Alzheimer's gene was blooming in me. I consulted with my doctors at the Cleveland Clinic who informed me that I was in the early stages of MCI (Mild Cognitive Impairment). This could be devastating for anyone, especially a performer and writer. However, I found that my talent and tools created a way to cope with the diagnosis. After having nursed my mother through 12 years of this dreadful disease, I knew all too well what I and my family might be in store for in the future. I was fortunate to have caught this disease early enough to radically slow its effects through diet, exercise, cognitive weight training (theatre), and infusions of a drug called Lequimbi. The knowledge I gained while caring for my mother has afforded me perspective and courage to fight for myself and advocate for others to do the same. Living on the Moon, my one-woman show, dramatises the relationship between a mother and daughter whose lives are upturned by Alzheimer's… but with music, jokes, stories, and a puppet. It was important to me that this story refrain from getting morbid or bleak and instead focus on love, humour, and hope. The show is a love letter to those who have stories and experiences of working through Alzheimer's and I hope offers light and connection to what can feel like a dark and isolating experience. Living on the Moon, Gilded Balloon Patter House, 2.45pm, until 25 August
Scotsman
4 hours ago
- Scotsman
Edinburgh Fringe dance physical theatre reviews Hamlet by New York Circus Project Trace of Belief
Sign up to our Arts and Culture newsletter, get the latest news and reviews from our specialist arts writers Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Hamlet by New York Circus Project ★★★★ Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 24 August There's Shakespearean theatre, there's circus, and then there's this - which appears to be a genre all of its own. Quite unlike anything you're likely to have seen before (and that's saying something at the Fringe), this production of Hamlet has to be watched through a very particular lens. Only the most pivotal points of Shakespeare's text have made the cut, and to begin with, the acrobatic manoeuvres feel strangely tagged on. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Hamlet by New York Circus Project Yet if you go along with it, this highly entertaining show pays you back handsomely. It would be easy for a circus troupe to value strength and agility over acting prowess, but the key roles here have been superbly cast. Maddox Morfit-Tighe is wholly believable as the grieving, vengeful Hamlet. Despite the brevity of his words, each of his relationships have depth and meaning, whether it's with his mother, girlfriend or uncle (all three of whom have equal gravitas). Maleah Rendon as Ophelia also has a wonderful physicality, put to excellent use during her beautifully choreographed death scene, featuring real water. If some of the acrobatic moments and dance routines feel ever so slightly shoe-horned in, others glide perfectly into the narrative. The ghost of Hamlet's late father is portrayed through strong and elegant aerial work, as befits a late king, while the characters of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (already ripe for physical comedy) are suitably played for laughs. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Throughout the cast, each acrobatic leap and lift is perfectly executed with confidence and skill, whether they're building human towers or flipping on the spot. Perhaps what impresses most, however, is that this newly created genre manages to hold both elements in high regard. The circus technique has been hard-won by everyone on stage, and the drama inherent in Shakespeare's words is treated with the respect it deserves. Kelly Apter Taiwan Season: Trace of Belief ★★★★ Dance Base (Venue 22) until 24 August This captivating new show from Taiwan's Chun Dance is the performance equivalent of a bedtime app. Not that it sends you to sleep, far from it, but there is a hypnotic flow to it that settles the mind and calms the spirit. Grouped together as one flock, dressed in pale blue tie-dye, six dancers sway slowly from side to side as if touched by a gentle breeze. Eyes focused into the distance, they draw us in from the first quiet breath, and don't set us back down until the final moment. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Yet despite this delicacy of movement, an inner strength resonates from inside each of them. Partly conveyed through their strong, supple movement, which is never an inch out of place. But also coming from somewhere deep within, and helping to bring Hsieh Yi-Chun's vision to life. This up-and-coming Taiwanese choreographer has few international credits to her name, but works such as this will surely change that. Yi-Chun took inspiration for Trace of Belief from her own childhood, where memories of temple processions and community rituals helped formulate her view of life. The push and pull between past and present is felt throughout the piece. When the world is moving at such a fast pace, how do we hold onto tradition? And in an increasingly secular society, what place does faith have? All of this is handled with an abstract, contemporary dance sensibility, without ever spoon-feeding the audience. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Traditional brushes clasped between the teeth, and brief bursts of bold athletic movement capture the element of ritual. But by the end, we've come full circle and a poignant moment in which one dancer strips down to her underwear, is a tender illustration of laying our souls bare. Kelly Apter Voyeur / Samba & Love ★★★★ Dance Base (Venue 22) until 24 August This dynamic double bill from Brazil's São José dos Campos Dance Company is an hour of slick, engaging contemporary dance that never lets the pace drop for a single second. Relentless (in a good way) in her capacity to drive the dancers from one highly-charged moment to the next, choreographer Lili de Grammont takes us inside two aspects of modern life. In Voyeur, we find a group of people seated in a circle, while a relationship plays out in the middle. The couple at the centre work through a myriad of sensual, romantic, sometimes brittle connections, all under the watchful gaze of strangers. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As a metaphor for the way so many lives, both famous and otherwise, are carried out under the glare of social media, it hits the spot. During one routine, two hand-held flashlights are pointed at the central performers, giving them no means of escape from the harsh intrusion. But these moments of coupledom are just one aspect of Voyeur - de Grammont keeps the whole ensemble (all dressed in funkily-cut sharp suits) busy with energised synchronised choreography. Barely able to draw breath during a short costume change, the same talented dancers give their all once again in Samba & Love, another astute look into life's less attractive corners. This time, de Grammont turns her lens on the all-too prevalent nature of burnout, and the wellness industry that feeds off it. Here, the rhythmic soundtrack echoes the frenetic busyness of modern life, while voiceovers deliver the words of wisdom we're all well versed in ('listen to your body'). Pulling an inflatable sofa onto the stage, three dancers take part in a panel discussion about how to look after ourselves. But, somewhat inevitably, they - like most of us - are soon drawn back into the chaos. Kelly Apter DUSK/NIGHT/DAWN ★★★ Assembly Roxy (Venue 139) until 10 August Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad DUSK/NIGHT/DAWN begins with what feels like a bedtime story, about a paper star maker and firework man who vie for control over the decoration of the night sky. It's an appropriate start for a show concerned with the spectacular possibilities of vertical space, as a series of beautifully choreographed aerial pole vignettes unfold with the setting of the sun and draw to a close as it once again rises. The sheer physical prowess of the two performers, Donna Carnow and Gina Alm, could be spectacle enough, but DUSK/NIGHT/DAWN leans into the dreamlike sensibility of its liminal time-space, using clever lighting design and costuming to build a world of nights out and mornings after. Pulses of bright strobe fragment the dancers' movements, while tinselled dresses whip through the air with the same gravity defying determination of their wearers. This montage-like structure adds a dreamy quality to the work, but it also punctuates its narrative flow: each vignette is arresting but the emotional throughline that connects them remains somewhat muted. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The result is a performance that is beautiful but not quite euphoric, a spectacle that remains largely just that. Still, when the spectacle is this impressive, it's well worth a look. Anahit Behrooz Formosa Viva ★★★ Paradise @ Augustine's (Venue 152) until 9 August Through 12 musical pieces, Formosa Viva Dance Theater encompasses Taiwan's 500-year history, highlighting the transition from martial law under the Republic of China's governance to democracy, and other key cultural influences and advances. Two screens survey a stage, which the company uses to effect. A pillar, which is part of the architecture of the space, is involved in the piece as the group of six dancers form a ring around it. Dressed in white, their bodies eddy. They could be water turning into a wave, perhaps they are the foam at its crest. In addition to dance and movement, the company uses their voices, chanting in harmony. Sequences, particularly at the opening, go on for too long without any variation or explanation, and when significant events such as martial law are introduced, expositional writing scrolls across the screens too quickly to appreciate the milestones narrated. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As the piece ends, moments of peace (themes of gender equality and cultural diversity come to the fore) are vivid, and offer a marked shift from earlier scenes of brutality, overseen by the animated figure of a fairy-tale crone, brandishing puppet strings. Formosa Viva promises a thought-provoking 50 minutes, on a very crucial subject matter. Josephine Balfour-Oatts
The Herald Scotland
4 hours ago
- The Herald Scotland
Those crazy days when my sister fell in love with a Bay City Roller
As it turns out, Stuart 'Woody' Wood has proven the most resilient of the Rollers. Singer Les McKeown and Derek and Alan Longmuir are no longer with us. Eric Faulkner contracted viral encephalitis in 2015 and we nearly lost him too. So Woody is the only Roller still rolling. Stuart Wood performing (Image: Natalia Aronowicz) And there's a lot of rolling to be done. He's playing live, there's a new musical to promote and a memoir, Mania: Tartan, Turmoil and My Life as a Bay City Roller, just published. It's why he turned up on Boom Radio on Sunday night to pick some records and talk about his life. Gently interrogated by Phil Riley, the musician now in his late sixties recalled that moment 50 years ago when a generation of teenage girls (my sister included) lost their heads. 'I can only liken it to if you're out in the sea swimming and suddenly you get caught in a whirlpool and it grabs you and it spins you round and then it chucks you out,' he says of Rollermania. 'And that whirlpool experience lasted about probably four or five years. It was a lot of noise, a lot of movement. Never scary, just exciting. We got crushed in cars. Even right now I can see the faces squashed up against the mirror. The mascara stuck to the windows and the lipstick … these big lip marks on the window." Does that sound like fun? He found it so. There is so much in the Rollers' story that wasn't. Wood didn't get on with his front man for a start. 'Les was a bit of a bully. He was always pushing me in the back, being a bit of a dick basically. I kicked him off stage one time because he was so annoying.' He was grand with the rest of the band. The manager Tam Paton? Not so much. Paton initially hired Wood as a roadie for the band. 'I didn't get paid … That never changed,' the latter noted. Indeed, the band were royally ripped off. Read more But today the Rollers story is defined by one word. Abuse. Wood has recently admitted that he was the victim of the band's predatory manager. In the past McKeown had claimed the same. Riley brought this up in the interview and Wood seemed to have a prepared answer which shut down the line of questioning. Riley was happy to move on. The interaction felt a little staged, to be honest. But the more I've thought about it the more I've thought that Wood is entitled in this situation to be in control of what he will (and will not talk) about. 'I don't want to go into all that side of that,' he told Riley. 'Every time a documentary comes out, or a newspaper item, it's all people want to talk about from the media side and I wasn't going to do that.' Is making him relive it a form of abuse in itself? My radio listening has been rather squeezed in between visits to the Fringe this week. Listening to Harry Hill on Desert Island Discs on Sunday morning prompted the slightly melancholy realisation that it's been more than 30 years since I saw Hill performing at the Fringe. He had some advice for any budding comedians in Edinburgh or elsewhere. 'It's not the funniest people that get on, it's the pushiest. And I was very pushy.' One of Hill's Desert Island Disc choices was from Talking Heads, and, coincidentally, that band's front man David Byrne has been Vernon Kay's guest all week in the Tracks of My Years slot on Radio 2. It has been something of a revelation. Because Byrne has come across as, well, quite normal; chatty, funny and surprisingly good company. Talk about not living up to his oddball reputation. He did manage to sneak Miles Davis, Television and Brian Eno onto the daytime Radio 2 playlist, so credit for that, though my favourite moment was when he was talking about his work on the music for the film The Last Emperor alongside the late, great Ryuichi Sakamoto. Byrne told Kay that, 'Hans Zimmer was our assistant,' and then burst out laughing at the notion that the man who is now probably the most highly regarded film composer in the world was once his gofer. Listen Out For: Book of the Week, Radio 4, 11.45am, Monday to Friday East Kilbride's Orwell Prize-winning author Darren McGarvey reads from his new book Trauma Industrial Complex and shares his own experience of childhood trauma. McGarvey, I imagine, would have interesting things to say about Stuart Wood's situation above.
