2024 Edinburgh: what did we see?
Wednesday, Aug 7:
Most of our group arrived early and rested before our catered Thai dinner at 5:30pm. At 8, we saw a fully improvised musical by Baby Wants Candy at George Studios (about a 20-minute walk from our house.) The raucous crowd offered up titles to the shows they wanted to see, and the winner was Fridgerton, a hilarious take on Bridgerton, set, you guessed it, in a small town in the Artic. Last year, the play was Shitanic, and equally funny–see last year’s blog. Every year, the group returns to see this talented group of improvisers (including their improvising musicians); they’re just too funny to be missed!
Thursday, Aug 8:
We began the day with a pleasant morning walk across the Meadows to Summerhall, a large community space with multiple theatres, a cafe, a laid-back courtyard with two bars and a food truck (not to mention The Royal Dick pub, also on the premises.)
The park was spectacularly green this year from all the rain in July. Most of the group saw Every Brilliant Thing in the Roundabout, a covered theatre-in-the-round space in Summerhall’s back courtyard that showcases new plays and can be counted on for excellent performances. But this play is the only one I remember in my 15+ years of playgoing to return to the same space for more than one season. The reason is clear–it is, in fact, brilliant. The solo performer tells the story of growing up with a depressed mother he tries to keep from committing suicide by keeping a list of “every brilliant thing” that makes life worth living. Unfortunately, those 100s of things, written out on notecards and spoken by willing and capable members of the audience, are not enough to save his mother, but they do make for an incredibly grateful and almost joyous audience by the end of this bittersweet play.
Having seen that play, my sister and I chose to see Burn Out Paradise in Summerhall’s Main Hall: 4 performers, 4 treadmills, 4 long lists of tasks to accomplish, all competing for their personal bests in terms of time and distance. The very essence of a fringe performance!! On treadmill #1 (“Survival”), a performer must cook a 3 course Italian meal for two audience members; on #2 (“Admin”), a performer must complete an online application for a Creative Scotland theatre grant, on #3 (“Performance”), we are treated to various renditions of actors’ past athletic achievements and childhood dance performances, and on #4 (“Leisure”), the list of things to do seems nearly impossible by including all the mindless as well as intentional things one does when not at work. The audience is asked to hand props to the performers, and before the end of the hour, the actors have been on all 4 treadmills in a chaotic and exhausting race against time. Lots a fun, as well as a sly comment on the pace of our everyday lives.
Meeting up after these two plays, the group saw a European dance theatre premiere by a young Taiwanese group performers. Called Lost Connection, the 40-minute movement piece took up the socio-cultural issue of “phubbing”–the practice of ignoring one’s companion(s) in order to pay attention to one’s phone or other mobile device. The piece was intricately and energetically choregraphed, the self-absorption of the dancers illustrated by holding lighted mobile phone props just inches from their faces even in the most intensely close interactions with other. A striking performance, but not among the group’s favorites.
After lunch, the group was back at Summerhall for the highly anticipated production of June Carter Cash: The Woman, Her Music, and Me produced by the National Theatre of Scotland and the renowned Scottish theatre group Gridiron. The space was large, with tables set up as if in a country music venue. The play was interesting and the main character and playwright had actually sung for years in a June Carter tribute band in Scotland. But perhaps because our group was seated near the back and off to the side, and perhaps because we had just had lunch and were still a bit jet-lagged, it was difficult to stay fully engaged. The play did win a Fringe First in the Scotsman’s first round of awards, so we were glad not to have missed it.
At 8pm, we hopped an Uber to Just the Tonic (a small comedy venue near the Grassmarket) to see New Kids on the Blockchain a new stand-up performance by the daughter of a close friend of Reyes (in our group) who had lived and worked with a bunch of “tech bros” after graduating from college. The autobiographical work was strong for a first-time performer; and the Fringe was the perfect place to try it out. Because of Reye’s connection, we were able to offer our encouraging thoughts and suggestions directly to the performer.
And that was just Day One!
Friday, Aug. 9:
Descending deeply into the Fringe today, we began with an early show at the Pleasance Courtyard–a multiple-theatre venue located near the end of the Royal Mile and most noted for its comedy performances. Only ONE of us was inspired to join the audience members who volunteered to participate in Yoga with Jilian, which most of us felt was a good thing. The volunteers did get a good morning workout, but were often left in long poses while the instructor increasingly went off the rails (and eventually into full melt-down mode) inappropriately talking about her various life challenges. Lots of laughs, especially if you’d ever taken a yoga class.
We stayed for the play Casting the Runes, which was billed as a supernatural, “spine-chilling” invitation “to the edge of your seat and the darkest corners of the night.” The play is an adaptation of a famous ghost story about a de-bunker of the occult who, cursed by an offended rival, is then beset by a series of inexplicable events. But “spine-chilling” and harrowing it was not. Although the acting was suberb, and the set (with its secret chambers and transformations) delightful, the story was predictable and the final result a bit “meh.” Luckily, at the Fringe the plays are usually an hour or less, so we took it all in stride.
After lunch, we survived the sweltering, small box of a theatre space in the Old Women’s Locker Room of Summerhall to see two plays. Luckily, they were both excellent. In the documentary drama Lessons on Revolution, two enthusiastic students take the audience on a journey back to a rarely remembered event when 3,000 protesting students occupied the London School of Economics in 1968. Over 50 years later, the actors piece together the precise chain of events, as well as their rationale, in a play that considers what might give us inspiration in our own age of injustice and inequality. Like much documentary theatre, the piece’s strength lies in the clarity with which the facts are presented and the level of interest that is generated not by the acting so much as by the event under examination. And in that way, the play was successful.
An hour later, we were back in that basement space to see the return of a Fringe First production from Irish theatre company’s Sunday’s Child, called Chicken. It did not disappoint. The solo performer struts out in a full rooster suit as Don Murphy, a Kerry cock raised as a stoic and heroic Irish lad with dreams of becoming a star. The play takes us through his move to New York, his trials as ketamine addict, his first bird-on-bird sexual experience, and his confrontation of hard truths about himself, chickenhood, and humankind. A truly riveting performance by an actress whose “chickenness” is all too human and whose experiences provide an hilarious critique of both the hegemonic media market and the global meat industry.
Upping the ante on absurd comedy, our last, 45-minute show at the Niddry theatre near University of Edinburgh was also a Fringe First winner from last year. Brilliantly played by Natasha Rolund and Xhloe Rice, What if They Ate the Baby? is billed as a “queer, theatrical dystopia.” Dressed in exaggerated 1950’s attire, the actors often hopd clear masks over their made-up faces, and act in a stylized manner that shimmers with the sexual tension of two American housewives clearly more attracted to each other than to the husbands they constantly invoke. Carefully choreographed with many pregnant pauses, the two actors illustrate the banality of their lives with sparse action, large physical gestures, and clipped dialogue that somehow manages to invoke Nora’s doll-house prison. Were it not so funny, so obviously over-the-top absurd, it might be excruciatingly sad…
Saturday, Aug. 10:
Saturday morning is Farmer’s Market at the Fringe, and the day that four of our group took a tour of Edinburgh’s medieval castle.
But a few of us saw Giant on the Bridge at the Zoo Mainstage, a play with a mix of original songs and story-telling based on interviews with prisoners trying to re-assimilate after serving time in Scottish prisons. The effects are clearly born not only by the prisoners, but their families. Although overall a somber narrative, the play is lightened with music (including one rap number) and some light-hearted dialogue. Again, one of those great, last-minute Fringe “finds.”
After an upscale lunch at Fisher’s in the City, the group wandered onto George Street in the New Town (i.e. built in the 1600’s!) There The Imitator appeared in the Bijou Spiegal tent. Julian Fontalvo was nothing short of amazing, with a moving story about growing up in Brazil and an unbelievable talent at imitating any famous singer you might name. Rather than describe his act, I encourage you to watch this:
On to my favorite political stand-up of all time, Mark Thomas at the Stand Comedy Club (also in the New Town.) I wondered before the show what exactly this anti-Tory comic would be aiming at now that Labour won the recent election. I need not have worried. The Gaffa Tapes offers the audience a chance to revel in the pent-up rage of 14 years of conservative rule with Thomas’s inimitable brand of searing and trenchant political comedy. Rather than a photo, I offer here Thomas’s own description of his show, which is spot-on: He says,
Oh for God’s sake. I have done this for 38 years. A career full of the usual stuff, telly, awards, radio. Also court cases, sacked politicians and Guinness Book of World Records certificates. You either like me or you don’t. If you don’t know what I do, ask an old person. I rant, tell jokes, sing some songs, swear a lot and urge the audience to join the comedic equivalent of the Red Army Faction. Basically don’t come if you’re a Tory unless you actually want to be a hostage. Everyone else welcome. Everyone else loved.”
In fact, at the end of his show, we get a bit of raw and touching human emotion when we learn that Thomas has fallen in love. Just brilliant (or maybe I only think so because I’m old…)
Our final show of the night was a laid back, cabaret tribute to Tom Waits called Doom and Glitter, performed by drag king Brake Down. Billed as “odd and experimental,” it wasn’t half bad; but we did feel sorry for the performer that there were only three other people in the small audience outside of our own group of 7. Take a look here:
The after-performance dinner we shared at Cafe Andaluz on George IV Bridge across from the Snug theatre was worth remembering.Tapas, sangria, and other good things…
Sunday, Aug. 11:
This morning, two shows at the Roundabout. First, Nation. Tim Crouch look-alike (and write-alike) Sam Ward presented a show about a town, a lot like your own, in which something happens that cracks the friendly cohesion you believed existed with your neighbors before a “stranger” enters into the space. “Now, you are being an audience…” says, Ward. As those repeated words suggest, the actual audience is asked to do a lot of imagining here, but the play itself is a forceful interrogation of just how much is real, and trustworthy in the so-called shared experience of our own communities.
Even stronger, perhaps, was the second Roundabout play, The Bellringers, a finalist in a Women’s Prize for Playwrighting. Facing an increasingly apocalyptic landscape (mushrooms popping up everywhere, relentless storms, two-headed lambs) two monk-like figures face a coming storm (and possibly the end of the world) assigned as the town’s bellringers. The bell’s noose-like ropes dominate the stage set as the men debate the wisdom of following their duty and the common belief that bellringing will quell an oncoming storm, even as they suspect (given the deaths of others who did not survive the job) that ringing the bells may be both personally dangerous and scientifically useless. Layered onto the situation is a subtle story about the literally unspeakable love one man has for the other, as well as the strength of a social connection as they confront the terror of the unknown. What ultimately will happen to them? The play ends at the moment of truth: blackout.
After lunch, most of us returned to the Roundabout to see How I Learned to Swim, in which a 30-year-old African American women is beginning her first swimming lesson. Acknowledging the fact that 95% of Black adults do not know how to swim, the play confronts the myths around this fact, as well as the socio-cultural trauma of everything from the middle passage, to the segregation of swimming pools, to the personal loss of the character’s brother in a suicidal surfing event for which she feels responsible. The acting was superb, and the tiled set actually looked (and smelled) like a swimming pool.
My vote for the most hilarious, over-the-top, slapstick-on-steroids performance of the Fringe was Natalie Palamide’s stunningly chaotic Weer at the Traverse (the year-round Edinburgh theatre devoted entirely to contemporary work.) Palamides’ particular blend of narrative comedy and Grand Guignol clowning is unique. Reviving her lovable, but politically obtuse male character from the Netflix special “Nate: A One Man Show,” Palamides does one better by splitting herself down the middle in order to play both that same character Mark and his girlfriend Christina. The highly orchestrated pandemonium on the stage is made to look spontaneous and accidental, which of course it is not: witness the stag flying across the stage from the wings to portray Cristina’s horrible car crash, or the bloody mess that prevents Mark from keeping upright, or the fact that every costume and prop used in the performance is left where it is thrown, or abandoned, on the stage. A “mess” on every level, or as Mark might say, “That’s so messed up, man…” The overt clowning was not to everyone’s taste, but it was hard to deny that Palamides is a remarkable talent.
Monday, Aug. 12:
With the Parliament Tour cancelled (renovations underway preventing access to the main floor), the group had a morning to relax, shop, visit the National Art Gallery. But a couple of us caught the amazing show called 300 Paintings at Summerhall–a show I hope returns next year. In this autobiographical solo show, we learn how Sam left stand-up comedy to pursue his dream of becoming a painter (no previous experience), and in fact creates 300 paintings during a 5 month manic episode. Some of those impressive abstract works were on view at Summerhall during the run. The play’s exploration of the relationship between art and madness manages to de-stigmatize bipolar disorder without undermining the seriousness of Sam’s diagnosis. Here is clip that gives some insight into the show:
The (somewhat) immersive Burning Down the Horse was perhaps the group’s favorite show today. The hilarious comedy is premised on the entire audience finding themselves, with the actors, inside a strange Trojan Horse (with a duck bill and wings) outside the city of Troy and, again alongside the actors, realizing just how bad an idea this all was, just how egomaniacal Odysseus really is, and just how many things can possibly (and do) go wrong. Did someone mention fire? Clever, fast-paced, and completely inventive, the actors used the audience judiciously and to maximum effect in this Greek-themed satire.
We then walked from the Pleasance Dome to Surgeon’s Hall to see last year’s Fringe First winner Keith Alessi in his autobiographical solo performance of Tomatoes Tried to Kill Me But the Banjo Saved My Life. Alesssi basically tells his own story as high-powered corporate executive who merely liked banjos, and collected them, to man facing serious health conditions, to someone who quits his corporate life altogether to learn the banjo. And he is still learning, unselfconsciouly so. The performance is not so much about banjo-playing as a rather inspiring invitation to consider what following your our own passion in life might look like.
After an Indian dinner in Morningside (a short taxi-ride away), the group attended the Edinburgh International Festival adaptation of Amy Liptrott’s popular memoir, The Outrun, at Church Hill Theatre. The play focuses on the slow journey to sobriety by its main character, who grew up in the Orkney Islands and eventually returns there. The production values of the play were high, with magnificent skyscapes and a lovely choral sound design, but ultimately, the play seemed less innovative and “new” than much we have already seen on the Fringe. A note for next year, perhaps.
Tuesday, Aug. 13:
Our first full day at the Traverse theatre: we began with the wrenching, Palestinian monologue A Knock on the Roof by Syrian-Palestinian playwright Khawla Ibraheem. As she speaks to us conversationally, but with increasing anxiety, we begin to more fully understand the devastating situation of a mother in Gaza trying to keep herself, her mother, and her son alive. The title refers to small bomb that causes a “knock on the roof” heard by inhabitants of a building as an evacuation warning–giving them just 15 minutes to move to safety. As if there are safe places to go, and as if 15 minutes is really enough to race down 17 floors with a small child and an elderly mother. (At least she lives close enough to the roof to even hear the knock, which those on lower floors may not.) Miriam obsessively prepares for the inevitable by timing her evacuation path down to the second, only to realize that such drills leave her family at home more vulnerable. The play addresses what it is like to face power cuts, food shortages, and a sewage strewn beach in Gaza even before the war breaks out; the situation once the bombing starts is simply untenable. And heartbreaking.
Our second play was, thankfully, a comedy. Cyrano begins with three unnamed actors on an empty stage discussing how to put on the classic play; but the play has already begun, with Cyrano being played by a women, hopelessly in love with her Roxanne. As a play about the seductive and destructive power of words, it is perhaps no surprise that this Cyrano sports no physical deformity at all–just lots of witty word-play around her supposedly overly large nose. The meta-theatrical adaptation is clever and up-beat. The handsome, but totally inarticulate (and sometimes politically incorrect) young man Yan end ups with a girl from the chorus who has been similarly slighted throughout the play. And of course, the two women end up in each other’s arms, where they finally realize they belong. Not your traditional Cyrano, to be sure. Not surprisingly, sureness of the acting and the cleverness of the plot resulted in a well-deserved Fringe First 
Back to Summerhall to see Rebecca and Louise of the legendary fringe company Sh!t Theatre, in their new performance Or What’s Left of Us. The company is known for its authenticity, celebration of imperfection, and use of personal research–a few years ago, Dolly-would featured their trip to Nashville’s Dolly-world, their exploration of the first cloned sheep named Dolly, lots of singing in sheep’s clothes. A bit more somber, but also fun, this production comes after the death of their director and Rebecca’s partner. The two seek solace in folk music, as well as medieval instruments, strange woodland garb, and traditional story-telling, drawing the audience into a healing sing-along. Seemingly spontaneous, but carefully crafted, the performance was touching and the singing quite beautiful.
One of us wanted to see a drag show: the result was a 9:15 German performance in Summerhall appropriately called Queens. Perhaps not really a play, and not really a drag show either, these two characters are definitely queens, who play Queen Elizabeth and her cousin Mary Queen of Scots in a meandering, strange, and funny performance that seemed to have been developed especially for their fans. Given that the audience was invited to take photos and post them to social media, I offer the following short clip from someone in our group…
Wednesday, Aug. 14:
Today we boarded a small private bus and headed to the Borders for a 2-hr working dog demonstration on the farm of the award-winning, internationally acclaimed Julie Hill, who has written books on the natural way of training border collies. Whereas older methods pretty much “beat the instincts” out of dogs when they are puppies, Julie nurtures her dogs’ innate drive to stalk, hunt, and herd; she doesn’t introduce the traditional whistles until the dogs’ 2nd or 3rd year. It was quite amazing. Someone in our group asked “What do you use to reward the dogs?” She responded, “The sheep are their reward.” (They naturally want to hunt and kill them…) Afterwards we spent the early afternoon at Alnwick Castle on the Duke of Northumberland’s estate–and the place Harry Potter was filmed. A late afternoon walk to the seashore on the grounds of Bambaugh Castle capped a beautiful, sunny day on the Borders.
Thursday, Aug. 15:
After a lazy morning, the group saw Instructions in the Old Lab at Summerhall. This was the group who offered Work.txt in 2022: a show that involved a series of instructions projected on the back of the stage that audience members were invited to complete as a group (such as building a structure out of blocks). This new show was similar insofar as it involved instructions to be read (and performed) from a script, but this time by only a single audience member. The day we saw the show, that person happened be directing another Summerhall show, so she was definitely an actor. And it showed–she was so good at playing this part she had never before seen that some people in our group refused to believe the show was not rehearsed with her in advance. Luckily, that idea was put to rest when we met her outside in the courtyard after the show–she wondered how she did, since it was hard to concentrate on the lines and directions and at the same time get a gist of the narrative. Another great fringe show!
In the same venue a bit later, we saw the New Zealand performance Heartbreak Hotel. Billed as a play for “young hearts, old hearts, and broken hearts,” the play offers an in-depth dissection of what exactly (physiologically as well as psychologically) is involved when our bodies are bereft from heartbreak. The story of the play follows the female lead in dialogue with her male counterpart, who plays all the other characters in the play, from boyfriend, to new dates, to best friend. The play includes break-up songs as well as short lectures on the physiology of the heart, and most importantly, engages the audience in the character’s all-too-familiar experiences from the very beginning to the end of the show. Definitely one of our favorites. (If you have Tik Tok, check out the “sneak preview” of this show.)
After dinner, another great show at the Roundabout: VL (Virgin Lips). The title refers to the unfortunate situation for young adolescent boys who have never (yet) been kissed, boys that are both the subject of ridicule and the object for more or less elaborate plans to change their status, with enough witnesses to escape further ridicule. The two performers were thoroughly convincing as gawky, energetic teenagers hanging out at a bus stop and exchanging a bunch of crazy ideas. The play manais both hilarious and touching as the actors are effective in showing the vulnerability behind the goofy, wannabe macho characters they portray.
Friday, Aug. 16:
We’re back to the Traverse for back-to-back afternoon shows. First, The Sound Inside, which some in our group realized (after the fact) we had seen before in the U.S. Understandably, perhaps, since the play was nominated for six Tony awards. In it a terminally ill, Ivy League professor develops an intellectually passionate relationship with a young student that eventually leads her to request his help ending her life. He appears to acquiesce in the request, but at the ending of the play, the professor is alive and her student isn’t. A well-acted, somber tale that was most riveting for those who had not seen it earlier.
A History of Paper, on the other hand, was less philosophical and more emotionally moving. A song with music by Oliver Emmanuel and Gareth Williams (who died only last year), involves the heartbreaking tale of a man who falls in love and marries, only to lose his young wife when she happens to go to a job interview in the World Trade Center on September 11. He is left with only the pieces of paper (receipts, letters, tickets, menus notes, etc) he has collected over the course of their relationship, as well as the visual image on that fatal day of the massive amounts of paper left drifting in the air after the towers fell. In other words, this play about love quickly turns into a more poignant exploration of grief. As well-acted and directed as all of the offerings this year from the Traverse.
This evening, the group attended the International Festival performance of Peruvian Teatro du Plaza’s Hamlet at the Lyceum theatre; but it wasn’t just any Hamlet. This adaptation of Shakespeare was developed and performed by actors with Down Syndrome (much of it in Spanish with super-titles), whose decision to stage this play, as well as the many ways in which this play connects to their individual experiences, was included on the stage. The actors were energetic and thoroughly engaging, often humorous, and at times politically astute, about their own situations. One particularly memorable scene has the actor playing Hamlet trying to imitate the early Olivier film version of the part. Despite Hamlet’s tragic ending, this play ended joyously with a huge onstage dance party to which the audience was invited. Definitely worth seeing!
Saturday, Aug. 17:
Sadly, this was the premature end of the festival for your tour guide, who came down with Covid. But the rest of the group forged on: the descriptions below have been pulled from various reviews of the performances.
The morning show at the Traverse, Batshit, was the odds-on favorite of the group. A wildly theatrical, unexpectedly funny, and deeply intimate story of female madness, this one-woman show draws on research, recordings and videos to show “the pathologization of women’s mental health” in 1960s Australia as well as today. The most compelling strand of the story follows Leah Shelton’s grandmother, Gwen, who is medicated and electro-shocked following the loss of her child a few days after birth until she’s “well enough to return to married life,” even though her breakdown was clearly a sane reaction to
In Two Minds, which the group saw next at the Traverse, is a quieter piece that also takes up the issue of mental health in a play about an adult daughter trying to accommodate a mother with bipolar disorder. As the Guardian reviewer notes, “the play has no metaphor or big statement to make, but it covers its tender ground with insight and sensitivity.”
Later, the group returned to a play we saw last year at the Storytelling Center Thunderstruck. Here’s what I offered on last year’s blog:
Thunderstruck is an internationally acclaimed ode to Gordon Duncan, the Pitlochery binman who became a legendary Scottish bagpipe musician–according to many, the best that ever lived. That so few know his name has something to do with the disfavored status of bagpipes themselves, and the play gives the audience a lesson in the instrument’s limitations as well as its strengths. Duncan, who took the instrument to the very edges of possibility (imagine Jimi Hendrix as a bagpiper), was also despised in his time for expanding the bagpipe’s 9-note scale and for defying musical tradition with his stunning compositions. Despite his incredible talent and innovation, he was rejected by his musical community and eventually committed suicide. Though Duncan’s personal story is sad, the music he left behind is absolutely thrilling, and the play ends with a long set of boisterous live music showcasing it. Like them or hate them, we cannot hear Scottish bagpipes the same ever again! (For a funny video and photos, scroll down to Thunderstrack on the 2023 Program blog).
The evening ended at the Pleasance Courtyard Beyond with renowned puppet theatre group Blind Summit’s play Sex Lives of Puppets. Again according to the Guardian review, this documentary theatre piece is based “on findings from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine’s National Survey of Sexual Attitudes and Lifestyles,” and “is staged in verbatim-style chapters, mostly with solo or duo interviewees answering questions such as “what’s your secret sauce?” and “is it important that people find you attractive?” What can I say, it sounds hilarious!
Sunday, Aug. 18:
The last morning of our trip began with Show Pony in Summerhall’s Main Hall. According to our group, it was an absolutely inspiring look at the incredible athletic talents of aging female acrobats. The play begins with memories of the women’s introduction to the circus, and goes on to include sketches with aerial routines, meteor juggling, and dance breaks–intertwining stories that both satirize and celebrate their art form. But after all their years of training and performing, the actors are facing the fact that they know what happens to women acrobats in their 40s and 50s, and expose the biases of their own industry.
The next play, Bark, Bark, would have been good had the group not faced technical difficulties in a play that absolutely depended on technology. Billed as “live puppetry cinema” with dioramas of the great outdoors and close up encounters, astroturf beneath a keyboard, a large projector, and a live pianist, the play portends to explore the relationship between the human and non-human world in what is surely an almost impossible to describe experience. On the day our group attended, the play was both humorous and surprising, but perhaps a bit too ambitious to be entirely successful.
The final performance of the trip was the inimitable stand-up comedian Hannah Gadsby, whose initial foray to the Fringe festival in 2018 was interrupted by the pre-emptive production of the Netflix special Nannette. (Do watch it if you haven’t already!) Here is a clip from her newest show Woof!
So that was it folks! By my count, 39 shows (if you include the dogs!), though no one in our group saw every show.
Anyone up for Edinburgh in 2025?
The new dates are August 2-14. Same gorgeous house, and perhaps a bit saner performance pace (for the “uninitiated”).
Just let me know…