Among my friendship group I am known as a luvvie supreme. (“Mr Superfluous” one friend calls me – but I don’t think he knows what he actually means.) I’m accused of loving every artistic event I attend which is simply not true, I just generally don’t write too much about the bad ones. And anyway, I go to more good things than bad because I do my research before shelling out. But there is one place on earth that rises to the very top of my list of adorable, seismically brilliant things and that is Summerhall.
It’s appropriate that ten years ago, and this year, it put on a show called “Every Brilliant Thing.” which is, actually, brilliant and was staged in a brilliant place. Roundabout at Summerhall. It’s on Netflix now.
Why would a grotty old semi run down warren of misshapen rooms with peeling paint and mismatched furniture rise to that level of adoration for me?
I’ll tell you why. Because it is a cultural phenomenon. It has an attitude and is a barometer of true greatness of everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, it puts on. From its adorable Christmas market to its fantastic bar, The Royal Dick (ooh err), called that because the building was originally the Royal Dick Veterinary Hospital, before the inimitable Robert McDowell and his family bought it.
McDowell strides (but in a sort of unostentatious way) around his creation in a wide brimmed hat and suit, popping up every now and then to present his personal awards to shows that he deems exceptional. I saw one of these last year when he walked into Roundabout to present Mark Thomas with said award for England & Son. It was a magical moment.
I love the fact you need your own toilet strategy in the Fringe, to find those hidden away cubicles in the basement, for example, that few know about. I love the standing in queues excitedly chattering about your latest find with an enlightened Italian or Pole or Londoner. I love that Barney’s Volcano IPA is the house beer. I love the cases of skeletons and bones that adorn The Royal Dick and various other places. I love the gigs through the year that make your jaw drop that THAT band chose to play THIS tiny venue. It’s not true that Nothing Ever Happens Here. I love the hugging. I love the fact that the cast (including some celebs) hang around after shows in the courtyard. I love the staff. I love Robert. I love the fact that there are great noodle bars nearby for lunch if you don’t want to use their food stalls that day. I love that it’s by the Meadows. I love the anticipatory walk from Bristo Square, or doing the charity shops on Nicholson Street. I love that Rick Till sells scripts in his wee bookshop.I love especially Roundabout and what Paynes Plough curate there. I love how many Fringe Firsts and awards Summerhall wins. I loved Baby Reindeer and See Monkey See by Richard Gadd that are now a global phenomenon on Netflix. I loved that mucky tits-out lesbian Dolly Parton show a few years ago. I love their attitude to nudity, to swearing, to not having stand up, but laughing my ass off at many, many shows. And crying. I love Summerhall Arts that did exciting new ten minute read throughs last year. I love its ticket prices. I loved their hashtag #Summerhallery before I binned Twitter. I love its wee offices, Janine Mathieson had one there once and I used to visit and envy her. I love that Robert loves DeMarco’s work so much, even though I don’t care much for it. But hey, where would we be without them both?
Most of all I love its Fringe.
It’s by a long way the greatest show in town. And therefore, on earth. It is an arbiter of taste in its own right. If it’s on at Summerhall it MUST be good. Well, usually.
I spend days there in August, days and days and days. It’s Paradise on earth and genuinely competes with Glastonbury for my favourite place on This Mortal Coil and, in truth, it wins.
Aside from the shows mentioned above I’ve seen too many performances to mention: like Goblin playing the soundtrack to Suspiria live, Charlotte Church and her amazing Pop Dungeon. A Norwegian naked dance show, a miraculous floating carrier bag show for kids set to Clare de Lune, Fred Deakin’s homage to Edinburgh nite Clubs. I’ve co-starred in a show by Daniel Kitson. I’ve been on stage UMPTEEN times. I’ve been virtually carried out by Mike Donoghue and Dave Roberts. The list is long, my passion deep.
There is nothing, yes nothing, that I don’t love about Summerhall.
I’d love it to survive intact.
I love you Summerhall.
gibberish 