5 Days of The Fringe left.

5 days of The Fringe left. 5 days to see all the shows you don't want to miss. 5 days to hobnob with industry who's whos. 5 days to praise and confound actors, directors, stage managers, technicians, musicians, comedians and those who place themselves somewhere in between as "performance artists." 5 days to buy a bottle of wine for the person whose couch you've last been sleeping on. 5 days to compose a tune you "wrote during the Fringe in two-thousand and twelve man." 5 days to pick-up and say you got a shag when you least expected it. 5 days to heckle a comic and say you got away with it. 5 days to overhear two people saying it was "the best thing they've ever seen" and go see it only to realise they were high or being sarcastic. 5 days to fit it all in. 5 days until you can sit back on your couch and overcome from the cough you've developed from burning the candle at both ends. 5 days till you can turn your eyes to "other projects I've been putting off." 5 days till your feet start recovering. 5 days till you realise a month has passed in no time at all, and you left so much undone before you left. 5 days till reality sets in. 5 days till you realise reality is really not that different at all: just the same thing, with the same feelings, in a different place, with different people, doing different things. 5 days till you can finally relax, or so you tell yourself. 5 weeks before you start having dreams about doing it all again next year.

Recently Published Frigne Reviews:
Bitesize Chekhov @ Merchant's Hall
Salome @ Greenside
The Jhiva of Nietzsche @ The Surgeons' Hall
The Canterville Ghost @ Greenside
Candide @ Church Hill Theatre
Bereavement The Musical @ C Venues

I lead a second life in Edinburgh, does that not make me a Bunburyist?

Waking up on someone's couch during the fringe while working as a theatre critic, reviewers pass slung around neck, feels kind of like being a romanticised caricature of a romanticised caricature. 40 minute walk to first venue, then traversing the city in between shows for another day. Helloooooo Edinburgh Fringe, did I really say I need to get more exercise? Please don't put chicken samosas in a box that says vegetable samosas. I fear that after having sufficient to drink one might forget that they feel out of place... while the company becomes ever more aware! Thanks for being an awesome friend ♥ The Devil May Care! (but that doesn't mean I have to give a fuck.) Anyone in Edinburgh lend me 20 quid? pay you back on Tuesday or Wednesday. Wallet got nicked last nite. Damn I was really enjoying the Edinburgh fringe weather but seemingly the Hindus were right, and all things must pass. Why do theatre makers think we like resettings of classics in World War II? what exactly is giving of this bizarre signal that World War II is a compelling or original period to set Shakespeare or Sophocles in? Or anything for that matter? It's not! When they said: "Repent, Repent" : I wonder what they meant? The problem with ethics is that the only people really interested in learning about it are already good.

These are just some of the experiences one might have in August when in Edinburgh.

So I've been catching up on review writing today and it's been getting really fun now I'm in the swing of it. I don't always enjoy sitting down and getting started, but when I finish articles I'm often very pleased with my writing and the ways I've managed to get around my concerns of how to approach certain aspects of a production.

While I'm here I guess this would be as good a time as any to link you to the reviews I've written that have already been posted online, please enjoy :-)

The Improvised Musical @ C
Treasure Island @ C Too
Candida @ Assembly George Square
Suite Hope @ Dance Base
Kaya – Dream Interpreter @ Assembly George Square
Anybody Waitin’? @ Dance Base
Mod @ C ECA

Teaching Kids to be Loving

When I was a volunteer in school, I never once shouted at, threatened or punished a child, nor bribed a child to do what I wanted them to with "positive reinforcement" like the promise of a gold star or a treat ---- Most, if not all of the other teachers were strict disciplinarians, but time after time I got specifically put with the most difficult children in the class, because it didn't take long for them to see that I was excellent at dealing with them: they didn't go out of control, or when they did, I found ways to help them regain it quickly enough.

Yes, there were challenges, but if I had just hit those kids I would have never learned to overcome those challenges in all the amazingly ingenious ways I was forced to. I never would have learned what motivated those children when they were being difficult, or what was real for them in those moment when they were being challenging.

Yes, I probably could have got them to stop misbehaving, maybe, with a swot, but that would only teach them that when someone does something you don't want them to do the best way to get them to comply is by hitting them.

Those kids loved and respected me. The so-called "difficult" ones took to me better than their teachers, and were more compliant with me, because I treated them with respect without expecting anything in return - on some level they got that, and I won their trust.

I NEVER, EVER, EVER would have jeopardised that respect by punishing them or hitting them, (even if it was legal to hit in school), even if it was more effective in getting what I wanted. As it turned out, reason was more effective. It allowed me to show that I cared about those children so much I would care about them even when they weren't doing what I wanted them to do. Not hitting means Unconditional love, not just "I love you when you're convenient." That's what all disciplinarian methods are really saying.

If you want kids to learn to be loving, you know what you have to do. Set an example. Show them what it looks like to go the extra mile, even when it's challenging not to do what was done to you to get you to "behave."

Love, love.

What Do You Do With Your Doubts? (WIP)

Well I find my mind is blinded by such simple situations, 

and my constant cogitations lead me lost into frustration, 

Though I can't make head or tail of it, nor hammer from the nail of it, 

It seems I'm bound to fail of it: Uncertainty prevails.
 
I have heard each word you've said and I can sense your agitation
That your constant confoundation gives you cause for aggravation,
Perhaps I've a solution that may bring you restitution,
That may make a resolution of your mental destitution,
 
It seems to me, you verily, 

Could live your life most happily, 

If only you'd embrace the key to overcome uncertainty...

Well?

What do you do with your doubts?

Throw them out! Throw them out!

Tell me what do you do with your doubts?

Throw them out! Throw them out! 

When you're not quite sure how to feel,

And you can't quite tell night from day,
The grass could be greener, 

Your conscience could be cleaner,
And you still don't kow what to say.....

Well!

What do you do with your doubts?

Throw them out! Throw them out!

Tell me what do you do with your doubts?

Throw them out! Throw them out! 

Though I note your proposition to improve my disposition, 

Yet I fear that my condition begs a more complex prescription,


More to come....

Back at the Fringe, 2012!

It's good to be back. In a way it feels like I just came home.
As though yesterday was a Monday and last years Fringe was just before the weekend.

Already seen lots and have lots to write about, I have a much better system this year which means not having to constantly travel backwards and forwards across the city, all thought a little of that is all good. Know my way round a bit better as well.

Let's get it on.

Baloney

A harrowed businessman once came into his therapists’ office after being bothered again and again by a reoccurring dream. Even although he’d been under analysis for a couple of months he couldn’t really tell you that he’d fully engaged with the treatment if he was to be honest. Deep down he was convinced that even seeing a shrink was a load of old baloney that couldn’t really help him with any matters pertaining to the real world, but it was a good opportunity to vent his spleen to someone who would have to listen and give his undivided attention, because he was being paid to. Meanwhile his life was crashing in around him, and getting progressively worse, which only went to prove that psychoanalysis was dated nonsense believed only by socialist professors in ivory towers who had never even seen the reality of the rat race first hand.

“You think I got problems, Doc? Let me tell you, even my ulcers got ulcers! My business is about to hit the rocks, my wife has insisted on separation and won’t even take my calls! Soon I’ll be getting the divorce papers through, heck that’s all I need! If I can’t get the cash together, and soon, I’m going to have to declare bankruptcy and lose the house to boot! I swear to god I’ll end up in hospital with another bypass. ‘Course I got problems. What do you expect me to do?”

This dream, however… he found it so irksome to be bothered by it night after night that he found himself turning up with a new willingness to do just about whatever his Freudian friend might ask of him. The hell with it, he didn’t have that much further to fall after all.

“I’m interested in knowing how often you’ve been having this dream? Or variations on the same dream?”

“It’s the same dream Doc! And I have it every night! Almost every night without fail! The only night I think I didn’t have it was when I was staying over at my mistress’ place. Does that mean anything?”

“Hm, I don’t know. How is your relationship with your girlfriend these days? Better than with your wife I assume?” he added with a sardonic smile befitting an analyst.

“I dunno to be honest. I just don’t think I excite her the way I used to, if you know what I mean. It’s ok I guess. Just no real verve.”

“I see, and is there anything else going on? It seems there’s a little something else playing on your mind, maybe you could let me in on the full story.”

“What, are you a mind reader? Ok, I just keep on thinking about how unfair all this is on my son. He’s only 8 years old and he deserves a good father. With a good strong marriage, and a good strong business to go into. Or at least sell it if he likes. I want to be able to give him an education, you know? Everything I went without. He’s the innocent victim here that’s what really gets to me.”

“I understand. You feel bad for yourself, but you can handle that because so far as you see it you’re the one who made the mess. Same goes for your wife, she’s an adult woman after all. It’s your son you feel worried about because he didn’t have any hand in creating these problems. Right?”

“Yeah! Right! Exactly! You know what Doc? You ain’t too bad! What about my dream though?”

“I’m just coming to that. Let’s go over it again. You keep seeing these little symbols, almost like items in a computer game. One is a small pot of gold. One two short pieces of string. Then there are two hands, one thumb up, the other thumb down. There is also a broken walking stick with a snake for a head, an old, discarded baseball bat and ball, and an olive branch with only one olive and three leaves on it. Is that right?”

“You got it Doc! Can’t make heads or tails of it neither. What do you say?”

“Now look, usually I’d interpret the dream for you, but I want to take a different approach, let me know what you think…”

“So you ain’t gonna make sense of it at all?”

“I think this will be much more effective.”

“Lay it on me.”

“I’m going to write you a doctor’s note and I want you to cut your work hours down to a minimum this week. Especially Monday through Wednesday. Only take absolutely essential calls. Delegate everything else to your secretary, get another one if you have to. I want you to spend time at home, and I want you to spend as much as you can doing the following exercises, here write this down.” The doctor scrambled to hand him a pen and notepad.

“Monday: I want you to visualise at least three big pots of gold, spend as much of the day as you can recreating the dream in your head but this time with these great big pots of gold instead of the tiny one you originally saw.

Tuesday: I want you to keep seeing the dream as much as you can, all day, but replace the two short bits of string with a big long braid that stretches on into the distance. If you see gold also, make sure it’s still great big pots and not the small one you saw at first, and I want you to continue in this fashion.

On Wednesday, I want you to see two hands shaking.

On Thursday I want you to see  that walking stick good as new, in fact turn it into some fancy diamond-encrusted sceptre if you want, go nuts.

On Friday I’d like you to picture a full-sized baseball field, with lots of enthusiastic people playing on it and having a great time.

Finally on Saturday, spend the day visualising a great big thriving olive tree. Then on Sunday you can come back in and tell me how you got on.”

“Doc, you gotta be kidding me! I need your help here! Can’t you see my life is falling apart? How is cutting work to think of cute pictures gonna solve me any problems? I gotta work hard at this. Cut me some slack! All I want to know is what this crazy dream is all about, and you want me to sit back and do nothing but think of cartoons?”

“Listen, this is serious work, I want you to give it a real shot. Don’t deny yourself any important leisure activities, but spend as much time as possible doing as I’ve asked you. If you try this out and it doesn’t work then next week we can take a more active approach. But I want you to give it your everything. Agreed?”

“Alright I’ll give it a shot, but I got to tell you, I’m pretty sceptical.”

“Put your scepticism aside for me, just for this week. I want you to engage with the process fully. Don’t let either of us down now.”

“Alright, alright already! Jeez you sound just like my mother. I’ll see you next week, ma.”

“See you next week.”

And with that the business man left.

A week later he returned to therapy, visibly glowing. He looked five if not ten years younger and there was a slight spring in his step as he entered the office.

“Doc, I don't know what you've done or how you’ve done it but I really gotta hand it to ya, things are changing in my life big time! I did what you said and didn’t go into the office until Thursday, just worked from home, then I got the important phone call and I'm just about to sign this great deal with another company. This could really save my ass! I spoke to my wife on Wednesday night and she’s called off the divorce, we're actually speaking to each other properly for the first time in years and she wants to work things out. I was even going to lose my mistress, but I took her out Friday night and the sex was so incredible I didn't have the heart to break it off in the morning. I checked my blood pressure today and it’s all back in the green zone. But best of all, you gotta hear this! Yesterday, instead of going out to playing golf with my buddies, I played my son at baseball. I was inspired by the big pitch that cropped up in my dream. Like in the movie, huh? ‘If you build it they will come’? Did I mention that? That everything in the dream changed around like you said? Well, the boy and I, we had an amazing heart to heart and I got to be completely honest with him about everything that’s been going on, and my feelings and all that crap, y’know? He’s such a bright kid, he understood everything I said and let me know how he was feeling about everything too, I could hardly believe he’s only eight! Well I feel like we’re best friends now, not just family, what’s family huh? Having sex with each other was just about the last good turn my parents ever done me. So anyway, enough already, I came home and did your visualisations all evening until I fell asleep and I woke up this morning feeling great. There’s only one thing that’s still driving me crazy. What did all that stuff in the dream mean, and why all these pictures? You gotta tell me what you done Doc, you gotta tell me what it all means?”

The analyst took the liberty of a long pause to stroke his beard.

“Well…” he laboured, “To be honest I didn’t really do any of the work. You interpreted the dream for me yourself. You see, the tiny pot of gold represented your attitude towards money. You just couldn’t ever see there being enough of it. So I got you to imagine an abundance of gold. Then you saw two separate pieces of string, and I figured it matched your whole outlook on your marriage. So I simply got you to braid them together into a long enduring tie that stretched out into the future with three strands: one for you, one for your wife, and one for your son. Next you told me how worried you were about your business: you saw one thumb up and one thumb down. You couldn’t see your clients agreeing on deals, so I got you to replace the picture with a handshake to make closing deal possible in your minds eye. Then there was the broken stick. I don’t think we need to say anything about this broken stick, Freud would have a field day. The really rather pathetic olive branch in your dream represented your health, so I got you to replace it with a vibrant tree, and finally that left the old, discarded baseball bat and ball. You wanted to invest more in your relationship with your son, so I got you to visualise a whole baseball field complete with a spirited game in progress. So, my fine analysand. What do you think?”

“Doc,” the client responded with a sardonic smile befitting an analysand, “What a load of old baloney! I think you oughtta see a shrink!”

With that he left the office and the therapist never heard from him again.

(c) Antony Sammeroff,  21/07/12

The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy Radio Show – Live! @ The Theatre Royal

Read My Review of THHG Show HERE on the Skinny Website,

Or catch it in the mag this month!