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The
Edinburgh Fringe
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Thoughts on the 2001 Fringe (3)A Fringe Reviewer's LifeI was sitting in this venue bar between shows, having a quiet drink and making notes on the last show I'd seen. There was a group of young actors at a nearby table, talking quietly. However their talk soon got louder and louder. I caught a few words and phrases: "ignorant", "don't know what they're talking about", "parasites", and then "reviewers"! The conversation grew more heated; language became stronger; condemnation more virulent - and then, suddenly, silence. I glanced up. They were whispering and looking at me. I went back to my writing. They got up and left. I had a good laugh. There's an odd attitude towards reviewers. Press officers, whether for a company or a venue, receive you with open arms and will work very hard to get you the information you require. I don't always make myself known when I go to a show, but I was spotted at one venue scribbling a few notes. I was approached by the PRO, given a full press pack without asking for it and asked if I would like information about other shows. I explained that I needed to get to the other side of town for my next show and had just half an hour to do so. No problem! I was whisked to the press office, given an armful of literature, taken to a car and driven to the next venue! At one venue, the box office staff are told to look out for reviewers and give them a personalised press pack. The Fringe Press Office informs venues when a reviewer is coming (assuming, of course, (s)he books a ticket through them) and this venue makes certain that they have everything they need. The Traverse asks you to collect your press ticket from the press office before each show and, when you arrive, makes sure that you are given the latest information. On the other hand, press officers and directors can be very protective of their actors. I know of one company whose members were only shown extracts from reviews in case any adverse comment upset them and affected their performance. A Hectic Life A reviewer's life is not easy. Some people think it is: "What a job!" they say. "Going to the theatre and not having to pay for your tickets. Even getting paid to do it. Brilliant!" Yes, of course it has it's attractive side, but it has a downside too. This year I saw fifty shows in thirteen days, an average of just under four a day, and that includes my last day - I saw my final show and just had enough time to grab something to eat before heading off to Waverley station to catch the train home. But of course it isn't just a matter of seeing the show: you've got to analyse it and write about it too, so my average day consisted of getting up about 9am and then, after breakfast, settling down to write up the previous day's shows. Or, at least, that's the intention: what usually happens is that I tended to fall behind fairly quickly, so that by the Tuesday of the second week I was writing up the previous Saturday's shows. Others are better at this than I am. I know one reviewer who carries a palmtop with him and writes as he goes along. London-based, he tells me he often writes his review on the bus home after a show. I can't do that: I need time to think. The way I work it is to see five shows a day most days, with one or two days in which I see fewer shows. On thse days I get up later! The first show will be around midday, finishing around one o'clock. The next is probably about three, so I'll go and have something to eat (either a pub meal of a sandwich, or, if I'm in the region of Nicholson Street, a pie from the wonderful Piemaker shop!), and scribble a few notes. Move on to the next venue: out again at around four, a quick drink (I live on fresh orange juice: I daren't have a beer or wine or I may find myself nodding off!) whilst scribbling again, and on to venue three for a show around about five. Out again sixish, with the usual drink/scribble, and on to number four at about seven. Out at eight, a meal (hopefully: it isn't always possible - sometimes it's another sandwich), and somewhere between ten and midnight, the last show of the day, finishing at any time up to half past one in the morning. Then it's a walk or a taxi back to the digs, depending on where the last venue is, how tired I am - and the weather! By the way, this year Edinburgh showed its worst side weatherwise. There were three days when it didn't rain. Even when it wasn't raining, there was a dampness in the air which was quite unpleasant. I never felt really dry during the whole thirteen days. With that came aches and pains, and not sleeping terribly well. For the first time I was glad to be going home - I began to wonder if I am getting too old for this game. All the other reviwers I know who cover the same number of shows are at least ten years younger than me! One told me that, at the end of a day in which we had both covered five shows and were finishing just after midnight, he was off to a club. I could hardly summon up the energy to stop a taxi! |
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