Sam Kissajukian used to be a stand-up comedian. But one day, he gave it all up and decided that he would become an artist, and over the next six months, he barricaded himself into a makeshift studio and hammered out over 300 paintings. And that was only the beginning of a story that spirals into almost unbelievable brilliance and utter insanity.
While on the face of it, this sounds like it should be like a triumph in and of itself, it was also the result of a manic episode of undiagnosed bipolar disorder. This is something that Kissajukian makes clear from the outset, asking the audience to try their best not to be sorry for him, which is good advice. There are moments when the sense of gleeful schadenfreude is threatened by the looming weight of what is, at heart, a truly vulnerable depiction of mental illness left unchecked.
Kissajukian’s onstage skill is without doubt, and his years of stand-up experience mean that he’s an easy host and knows how to draw laughter and warmth from the crowd. Even as the events become more and more bizarre, his matter-of-fact Australian good humour means that it’s hard not to just grin and enjoy the ride. Which is rather the point; this isn’t a grim, dark descent into a moral message or last-minute, heartbreaking revelation. It’s a glorious dive into the madcap weirdness of the human mind and an expression of the beauty that comes from uniqueness.
An excellent show, and with the added bonus that a selection of Kissajukian’s pieces are on display in Summerhall, which he’s more than happy to personally discuss with audience members at the end of the performance.