| Edinburgh Fringe 2003 | home |
A very important day for me. Today was my fringe debut day. The ambition I had back at 1994's fringe, to be on a fringe poster and perform at one of its venues (preferably the Pleasance) was to be realised. I was so excited, I slept in. Waking at 10:30 and thinking - "Wow - 10:30, why that's the time I'm supposed to be having my technical rehearsal.... D'oh!" All was not lost. I went into damage limitation mode, threw on some clothes and rushed over to the venue to get the end of my tech-spot.
In fact the tech rehearsal schedule was running behind, so nobody complained about my late attendance. The tech was a case of strumming a guitar, standing inside the lift, in which I was performing, and making sure that my sound effect on CD played through audibly. Those minor and insignificant objectives achieved, I then returned to my car and drove back for a shower. It would be silly to point out that I then spent time writing my day 3 diary, since if I diarise the writing of a diary... well, we'll be here for ever.
This year I aimed to try more than just comedy in the fringe. There are musicals I want to see, but I also wanted to try out other sorts of event/show. So, I was keen to do the "Creating a new musical" workshop. I wasn't sure what it would entail, but it was free of charge and on in a spare slot in my day. I walked across town to attend this workshop and, though free, realised that I didn't have a ticket and could not get one at the venue itself. However, luck came in the form of the staff who told me that they'd let me into the event provided that it didn't fill up with ticket holders. That was a pragmatic solution and I sat calmly waiting for it to occur. Luckily it did. I enjoyed the session immensely, though it was more a lecture on "How I done it" by the producer of a musical that is currently running on the fringe - indeed, some might have said it was a cynical attempt to publicise his musical for free. I never said that!
After the workshop I walked back, I changed clothes and then walked out again. With a reasonably amount of distance between my accommodation and the city centre, this walking is both a reasonable time commitment and also a great health improver. The only thing that will suffer is my toes, as they get squished and abused inside my shoes. I hate shoes! Lunch had been some healthy (it said on the label) Sainsbury's sandwiches alongside low-fat rice-based crisps-substitutes. I was not going to eat again before performing my show. Also, I do not like to perform under the influence, so my diet coke-style-drink intake was my sole source of liquid. This information is meant to be a set up for something - I haven't quite got so interested in my habits that I wish to document every miniscule detail. If I did that then, again, we'd be here forever. Day 5, I have just written about day 4 and I am now writing that I just wrote something about it. Indeed, now I look, I can see the words "Indeed, now I look..." STOP!!!
Arriving at the venue and unpacking guitar and other tools of my trade, I then realised I had about half an hour to kill before the 7pm show in which I had my 15 minutes of... well, not fame, but performance. As a distraction, the hilarious comic Mr Johnny Vegas was arsing around in the area of the lift. This was amusing, perhaps not as amusing as the way his director and camera crew got the uncomfortably overweight man to make an arse of himself and flail around like a puppet in some strange and scary puppet-theatre. If you're a "laugh-at" comic, then you have to do anything to get the laugh. Pathos and comedy work well together and Johnny managed the crestfallen stuff very well. Indeed, he probably can sleep well at night, knowing it's just a character, but it was still a little oddly touching to watch. Little details, like him having a tantrum and throwing his leaflets (scripted, mind) and then having to pick them up, were great. However, life always adds its own detail - a small girl appeared and started to help him - passing him one leaflet at a time in a sickeningly heart-rending way... the generosity of children is so innocent and emotive.
Anyway, I'm not impressed by these Johnny Vegases - sure I've seen him on the telly, but it didn't excite me. I'm a performer, I'm not star struck... Rubbish - I was excited. Not from Mr Vegas. No, one of the guys in his entourage was Stewart Lee. I recognised him, despite his increased stature from the Stewart Lee I saw on my Fist of Fun video (in his young and hungry days no doubt). I've spoken to Stewart before and I said hi to him at the last fringe after seeing his show. This time I was in a bit of a quandary. Do I interrupt him in his work and say "Hi - do you realise that I'm about to have my fringe debut and it's all your fault - you and Richard did comedy I understood so well that I thought I could do it"? I wanted to. He may have felt guilty, or excited for me, or nonplussed. He may have wished me luck or been impressed at his appearance at such an important moment. I decided that I'd just leave it. Well, I didn't see an obvious opening to say hi and he was working at the time. He seemed to be in charge of the operation and had a style of management which I found reassuringly assertive and calm. So, maybe I can aspire to being a good manager now. How bizarre would it be to go to the fringe as a regular desk-worker to come out having seen a stand-up doing stand-up and want to be a stand-up, only to go to the fringe as a performer and see the same guy in a managerial role and come out wanting to have the ultimate desk-job...?
But I digress.
My performance went well. I enjoyed it and that's one of the two main things. The audience were smiling and enjoying themselves too, which is the other. I played to 5 people in the end. There were 6 people, but one of them ducked out. I heard later that she suffered claustrophobia, which, given the fact that I was doing a show called "Claustrophobia cure EXTREME" and making jokes about the subject, gave me a quick pang of guilt. Was I mocking the afflicted? Then, I realised that it had been her choice to come into a lift and see a show clearly billed with my title. What did she expect in stand-up hour? A quick fix? That I'd not make jokes about it!? In a lift!? Nutso! I had tried to involve her in the show, passing her a kazoo to blow down - she refused and I had an instinct not to push the point, since she actually looked like she might throw up down my kazoo - that would be a little unsavoury. The audience were lovely and playing five people right in front of you, with no microphone and none of the usual comedy-club-anonymity, was great. Indeed, you can't just ask "do we have any X in", because you can see. You have to make it apply to the audience you have - because they will know if you're cheating. As I surveyed the audience, I felt that some of my slightly dirtier humour might not work. I considered censoring myself, and to some extent, I removed unnecessary sexual lines (where I'd already got the laugh I wanted) that they'd find awkward. However, most of what I did was deliver the ruder stuff apologetically - which made it work all the more.
Highlights for me including the laugh of recognition at the Atkins diet and an indication from my crowd as I explained my theories of it, that there were a few of them actually on it. They loved that stuff! Also, I realised I was serenading a young girl... too young... and I sang "Each time I cling to your kiss I hear music divine... [to guy next to her] you're her father aren't you?" The final highlight was when I was asking my crowd to shout OLE in the style of a Spaniard, just as one of them was finishing his pint - I asked them to wait, so he could empty his mouth or he might end up shouting PWWUSH in the style of a drunkard. I guess you had to be there. I'm just impressed that the words appeared in my head to say - like a sort of comedy tourettes or something. I was channelling. I don't recall ever being so much "in the zone" on comedy before.
Anyway, successes of fringe debut aside, I also had another gig to prepare for. So, I got changed, and got some food - a jacket potato with salad and tuna, and a dessert - a banana. Sitting at a table in the pleasance courtyard, I chatted to various people and wrote my script for the evening's performance at the Blind Poet. Scriptwriting is a bit of a fancy way of talking about it. Essentially, I decided what material to include and its order. However, I have two new sections I wanted to try. New in that they had material I'd not performed to an audience before, some of that material I'd thought up on one of my walks back home yesterday. So fresh, it's still bleeding!
This story is where comedy karma kicks in. Having had a great gig I was due a bad experience. In this case, the experience was that my 20 minute paid spot turned out to be a virtually empty bar and an abandoned gig. It didn't happen. Never mind. There's another one on Saturday. Plus, I did go to a gig not expecting to perform and ended up performing (Wed), so it all balances out. Still, it was a bit of a drama as the other comics debated hotly how terribly organised the pub was. One of the other comics, who claims to do "traditional stuff" and apparently dresses in a silly costume was keen to get on and do his thing. I pointed out that the audience have to at least partly want to see comedy. I said that his costume would make him "just look like a twat" if the audience specifically did not want to see comedy, rather than making him look funny. It's a good realisation and is, indeed, why the Tuesday night gig at the Establishment did not work - the audience were not interested. I was later told that the words "look like a twat" caused my comedy colleague to act as though I'd slapped him in the face. I think I qualified it with the reasoning, rather than suggesting that it was his costume or his act I was criticising. Perhaps this gentleman lacked the necessary sense of distance. Rule 97b for comedy, if you cannot step back and objectively review your performance or your career... you're screwed!
So, a day in which I drank only diet soda, ate only healthy food (see there was a reason to bring it up) and got back to the flat before 1am... surely not a festival day!?
Events summary:
Show: Creating a New Musical
Performed by: Front Porch Theatre
When: 15:00
Where: Dance Base
Cost: £0
Their musical "That's life" was based on "Everyman" the ancient-text as they put it. We saw how they'd had a playwright convert that into a modern play and how they had then worked out where the songs needed to go and how to make the play work. It was essentially a lecture, interspersed with some performances. The young lady who played death was very watchable. I'm talking as a musician/performer, of course! After the main bit we broke into groups to talk with people involved in the making of the show. I was in the producer's group. It was interesting to hear how much he had staked in the show. It was also interesting to think of the difference between the musical and its current production. He was developing two separate entities. The production being the least important.
Interesting and thought provoking, but it didn't make me walk away thinking "I've done it all wrong". Which was nice.
Spent £0, saw 1 show/event and had my first "proper" fringe performance. Ashley is a happy chappie. At the day's end:
Total shows seen: 9
Total shows performed: 3
Total spent: £57.50
08 August 2003
Ashley Frieze