Well, this is it: the final furlong of our Brighton Fringe show – or at least, the rehearsals. The first night of Year Without Summer is a week away: Monday 30th May, to be exact. Everything is clicking into place satisfactorily, and all that remains is the actual audience. Have spent the last few days distributing posters and fliers in local coffee shops and the like. There are, of course, roughly three thousand other posters and fliers all jostling for attention. I’ve always been cheerfully convinced that posters – for a show, for a gig, whatever – are reasonably doomed to failure, but I’m equally convinced that as doomed failures go, it’s about the best you can go for. I reckon one ticket sale on the back of around 400 fliers is about as good a return as you can hope for. It is of course pretty difficult to get any sort of audience in for a show, particularly if there’s hundreds of other shows also opening at the same time, and particularly if there are no famous ‘names’ attached to your project: either as performers, writers, directors, or even the actual name of the piece.
We’ve got some things going for us: the play deals with (amongst other things) Mary Shelley coming up with the idea for Frankenstein, which should pique the interest of at least a few people – especially as we premiere the play roughly 200 years after it actually happened (give or take a month, but who’s counting?). I imagine we might be able to wave sweetly at some potential audience members with the promise of Lord George Byron being – well, like Byron. I’ve been a little bit cheeky about the timelines of events (at least two events, or the suggestions of them, didn’t actually happen until significantly after the ‘year without a summer’, but I’m hoping most scholars will grant me a pass on narrative freedoms).
Somehow, I’ve managed to catch a few things in the Brighton Fringe (equally, I’ve missed a spectacular amount). Blackbird, at the Rialto is an impressive and tense two hander, depicting a reunion (if that word doesn’t suggest too cheerful a scenario) directed by Sam Chittenden. It’s best that you know little or nothing going in, which I appreciate is something of a gamble at the fringe, but rest assured it’s a bet worth taking.
Also impressive is Am I Fuckable (no, don’t type that title into search engines), which depicts very human and humorous (as well as moving) responses to modern dating in the era of tindr. It’s on at the Globe (no not that one) and has two performances left, scattered across the fringe. I understand that both performances are officially sold out, but it really is worth rocking up just before the start time just in case of no-shows.
Plus, there’s Un-Titled (also at the Rialto), whose tagline – ‘A play about art, told by art’, pretty much does what it says on the tin: an artist in her 80th year, is visited by the pieces of art in her studio, including a depiction of her earlier self (portrait). As well as being witty and moving, it’s also directed by Judey Bignell, who is Mary Shelley in Year Without Summer, which sort of brings this entry full circle. I’m not sure how Judey found the time to direct one show and be in another. I haven’t dared ask her, either: she may hit me.
Tickets for all those shows can be booked via the Brighton Fringe website, but obviously I’m going to draw lots of attention to the link for my show (it’s called Year Without Summer, did I mention?) and you can avoid booking fees but clicking on this link here