Vices and Virtues

I hate festivals. If they aren't in some wet field, they block city centres, hustling me to see that show of a life-time that turns out to be a high-school production of Shakespeare. Dominated by comedy, and lending Edinburgh the atmosphere of a University Freshers' Week, August on the East Coast is less celebration of art than trade show for posers.

Critics are reduced to collaborators in this assault on culture. The currency is star-ratings, opinion reduced to a sound-bite. The dance programme is being eroded, as every company wants to be in the big sections. Despite this, my inbox is full of companies claiming to be "physical theatre." They say that behind the public's backs, hoping to impress critics without scaring audiences.

The Fringe encourages short, cheap work. Comedy dominates because it has no production costs - a man, a microphone, a spotlight and a bunch of dumb gags. Theatre demands sets, costumes, understudies, choreographers. It's no wonder it can't afford the rent here. And fitting into the venue's timetable means nothing over an hour. That'll be fine for an expansive, ambitious work.

I love festivals. Last month I was over at Tanec Praha, which has been running in Prague for over twenty years. When it started, there was no contemporary dance in The Czech Republic: now they have Dot 504, who can kick it with the big boys. Tanec Praha demonstrates how a curated programme can inspire a new tradition of art.

By concentrating on a specific genre, TP has shown the Czech Republic how vital and emotional dance can be. In the same way, The Fringe showcases enough work to inspire local companies. Without the Fringe, Scottish performance would be weaker.

Down at Latitude - I have been in Festival Training Mode - I saw Mr B, Bryony Kimmings and I Malvolio by Tim Crouch on one day. There are all coming to Edinburgh and worth a punt, but there was a particular joy in seeing this diversity in close succession. Latitude, and Edinburgh in August, celebrates how art forms can reflect and influence each other.

Even better, it is the time when criticism matters: I review shows and influence their destiny. Press representatives care about us - I got a nice steak dinner last year and still gave the show two stars. I can be bribed to turn up, but never to compromise my opinion. More importantly, audiences actually read critics at the Fringe. Debate about theatre happens.

 

Welcome to the Shimmy 2011. Think for yourself, distrust authority and enjoy the contradictions.