gallery. martin capdevila
Journalist
Edinburgh Fringe: the festival of festivals
Of all the summer festivals, the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is undoubtedly as synonymous with summer in the UK as the centuries-old celebrations of the festa major throughout Catalonia. The Fringe originally took shape around the idea that any artist was allowed to perform, and it still functions on that principle today.
The Fringe runs throughout the month of August every year, and during that time the city of Edinburgh morphs into a very different place, not entirely dissimilar to a small town that's had the circus pass through it. Last year, Edinburgh played host to 50,459 different performances of 3,314 shows, spread across 313 venues. During this magical month, the city's population doubles, bars pop up, and entire parts of the city-centre open strictly for the Fringe. It should come as no surprise that this is the biggest arts festival in the world.
The difference between other summer festivals and the Fringe is that it feels like a festival in its purest form. People from all over the world spend months planning, writing, re-writing, performing, rehearsing, and agonising over the precious time every year that Edinburgh becomes their home. From a performer's perspective, it is a must, a rite of passage for any performer. And from a traveller's perspective, it is definitely a must-see event. The historic city of Edinburgh seems to come to life like no other place I've ever seen.
Level playing field
When I went to Edinburgh in the summer of 2011, I had no idea what I was in for. I landed in the city where I stayed with a group of comedians performing at the festival. I found myself handing out flyers on the Royal Mile by day, and unknowingly chatting over an awful pint of Tennents lager with renowned comedians by night. Under tarps in the pouring rain, and at picnic tables in the mud and sunshine, I came to understand the scale and scope of the Fringe in what it means to artists.
Among the wry humour and self-deprecation most comedians are wont to, they come every year knowing who they are up against — everyone. From amateurs to Hollywood stars alike, during the Fringe everyone is on level playing field. It plays a vital role in giving all kinds of performers a “safe” place for them to hone their craft, and that is one of the most important things for any budding artist.
Sadly, perhaps worst of all is knowing that on top of everything else, most artists head to Edinburgh expecting to lose money. It's all done at the cost of getting noticed. It's somewhat akin to the pilgrimage one must make in jeans and t-shirt, in the rain, up the deceptively immense Arthur's Seat — humbling, if not a terrifyingly uncomfortable experience, full of grand efforts and strife for a brief glimpse of one's place in a vast pool of talent.
The thing is, August is definitely not the time to see Edinburgh for the city that it really is — beautiful, green, grey (and frankly kind of bleak). However, if you want to experience something different, there really isn't a better time to go. I mean, lining up outside The Baked Potato for a delicious (you guessed it) baked potato smothered in curry is only made more exciting by the fact that you get to do so during what is basically a month-long party. Your average festival struggles to last a week, but the Fringe feels a bit like Douglas Adams's never-ending airborne party that has spanned generations. Alas, there is no award for the most gratuitous use of… language.
A flood of creativity
Usually, I tend to lean towards music and food festivals in the summer, if only because my Canadian instincts urge me to go outside. Admittedly, comedy or theatre is not generally the focus of summer, but Edinburgh is all-encompassing in that the whole city is overrun, flooded by creativity and with a buzz unlike anywhere else. Even if you don't like them, these kinds of festivals are vital to local economies and cultures.
Later this month, I'll head to WayHome Music & Arts Festival in Oro-Medonte, Ontario, Canada. It's co-produced by the people who started Bonnaroo, and brings food, art exhibitions and camping together in a rural part of the country, outside Toronto. It's only in its second year, but like the Fringe, it's a testament to the importance of what happens when people come together in support of art and culture from around the world, or even around the corner. Either way, it's something we should do more.