8 1GT Thursday August 6 2020 | the times
arts
What Edinburgh’s like
without the festivals
Many are mourning the absence of the Scottish arts
bonanza, but there is art to see and some locals are
pleased to have their city back, reports Mike Wade
I
n any other August hundreds of
makeshift theatres in Edinburgh
would begin filling up tomorrow
on the opening weekend of the
city’s International Festival and
the Fringe. For thousands who
love this time of year, there’s
pleasure in happily jostling
through the crowds to a seat. For
writers such as Zinnie Harris it’s an
annual turning point, sometimes a
career-defining moment.
Harris broke through 20 years
ago, when her Fringe play Further
than the Furthest Thing won just about
every theatre prize available. It was
the gateway to national success
and overseas tours, to TV and radio
productions, and Edinburgh’s festival
season has continued to be a constant
inspiration, “a complete blast of ideas”
that never fails to inspire.
This year the whole shebang has
been cancelled, for the first time in
more than 70 years. How will it seem
in the city where she lives? “What
would winter feel like without
Christmas?” Harris replies. “Like
summer without the festival.”
It will still be possible for visitors to
track and trace the Edinburgh spirit
this month. Beyond the city lights,
Jupiter Artland, a 125-acre garden of
delights for lovers of contemporary
art, is taking bookings for its summer
season, which as well as 35 permanent
artworks features reimaginings of
Allan Kaprow’s work, including Ya r d (a
stack of tyres in a sunken lane) and a
Black Lives Matter mural by the young
artist Saoirse Amira. At Ingliston, near
the airport, Dizzee Rascal is one of the
headliners in a series of drive-in rock
shows, part of a UK-wide touring bill.
These, though, are peripheral events.
In the city centre most manifestations
of the 2020 season serve only as
reminders of the shows we have lost.
There will be music in the city centre,
although in common with all of
Edinburgh’s summer festivals, most of
the International Festival programme
is online (of which more later). The
Usher Hall and Queen’s Hall are
closed, but Princes Street Gardens
becomes home to “a sound
installation” broadcasting classical
music for 40 minutes each lunchtime
from August 10, featuring Scottish
artists including Colin Currie, Steven
Osborne, the Dunedin Consort and
the Hebrides Ensemble.
At 10.30pm on Saturday and for the
next two nights all the best-known
festival theatres, halls and venues —
including the Castle Esplanade, site of
the military tattoo — will combine in
a project entitled My Light Shines On,
the buildings pulsing with light and
the sky punctured by hundreds of
beams reaching up into the dark.
It promises to be spectacular and
symbolic, but somewhat mournful.
The familiar happy chaos of the
streets will likewise be absent. The
Fringe Society, the charity charged
with creating some semblance of order
from a usually chaotic programme, did
not take out a licence for performance
on the Royal Mile. Sword swallowers
and fire-eaters are off the bill. The
odd busker might come into earshot,
but the temporary stages, actors in
costume and thousands of leafleteers
will be at home. One big venue, the
Gilded Balloon, has organised a
“Fringe Treasure Hunt”, but numbers
are limited.
Grid Iron, the site-specific theatre
company, hopes to perform
Dopplerafter an announcement last
week by the Scottish government that
live performance could resume on
August 24 if the virus remains under
control. The play, aptly, centres on a
man struggling to live in social
isolation.
The visual arts make a stronger
showing in the city. The National
Museum of Scotland will reopen on
August 19, with the National Galleries
expected to follow suit later in the
month. On the streets, a combined
show features Heroes of the Festivals,
in the style of Humans of New York. It
will show photographs of the
technicians and backroom staff who
help to bring the shows to life.
There will be a number of poignant
interventions, none more so than the
revival of Peter Liversidge’s Flags For
Edinburgh. In 2013 the jolly little
pendants were run up on some of the
most austere buildings in the city to
Walking up the
empty Royal
Mile has been
mind-boggling