Temple Bar will once again be flooded with innovative, daring performances and shows, drowning it in music, theatre, dance and visual arts. Opening on the 6th of September for 16 consecutive days, the 14th annual Fringe Festival is upon us.
The success of worldwide Fringe festivals over a period of more than four decades brought it to our green isle in 1995, with its spirit embedded in the cobbled streets of Temple Bar. Currently, it is Ireland’s fastest growing festival, this year the diverse auditoriums of the festival will comprise of the ‘smallest theatre auditorium in the world’, an apartment, a floor on which the audience are to lay blindfolded, and random outdoor venues in Dublin city centre.
The Fringe 2008 is the festival’s third year as an established, independent arts festival. Director Wolfgang Hoffman, who oversaw the Fringe’s fracture from the Dublin Theatre festival in 2006, seems to have sanctioned ‘pushing the envelope’ as the festival’s paramount purpose.
A significant section of the programme is dedicated to shows that ‘push the envelope’, a label elucidated by Fringe-affiliated theatre director Tom Creed, who has translated it into theatre language to designate artistic attempts to extend the limits of performance. His article – for the Fringe – has helped the Fringe advocate its dear ‘envelope’ in an articulate way, in order to account for some of the more controversial and unconventional shows.
The Project Arts Centre, the Dragonfly Theatre, Smock Alley, Filmbase and Pantibar will host such demonstrations. Recommended highlights include John Maron’s play Saori’s Birthday, and the new dance spectacle from last year’s Spirit of the Fringe Award winner, Gavin Kostick. Not to mention an instrumental, physical theatre production entitled Grasping the Floor with the Back of My Head.
‘Pushing the envelope’ echoes the tenets of postmodernism and culture-jamming. In spite of the absence of the political element from such cutting-edge, mixed genre performances, these unique parodies of conventional public frequencies subvert such theatrical institutions for independent communication. For example, Susan and Darren, a show intended for Smock Alley, is described as a ‘party planning’ event, with a cast generated by a 53-year-old ‘no performance experience’ cleaner, and her dancer son, in which the audience will assume the role of party guests. In any other instance this would be labelled as a product of financial collapse, or an unoriginal staging of an ordinary punter’s Friday evening, the accreditation of the Fringe allows this rather odd performance to appear alluding, experimental and convention-defying.
The Fringe theatre movement is centred on its dedication to the unconventional, to providing a platform for the ‘fringe’ faction of the art world. As such, it balances on the abyss of reality and art, merging the everyday and the extraordinary. In some cases, it involves the audience with the play on display more than what is perceived as suitable. Fringe renditions of the arts are designed to shock. They often, however, rather ironically soothe our fears of thinking outside the box and experiencing the unusual. The performances promote the notion that it is funny, enjoyable, witty and acceptable to be traditionally untraditional. Why, then, should we not embrace an event involving us in the preparation of the given event, as Susan and Darren do? Or chitchat while our ‘host’ performer talks over cooking on It’s A Domestic? Surely this only brings us closer to the heart of the ‘art’ being dramatised.
Apart from pushing envelopes, Fringe ‘08 performances promise to “celebrate all things physical”. And I doubt they mean an endorsement of X-rated scenes, rather, a dedication and a profusion of respect for the ancient art form known as dance. The programme even pledges Dance Bills ‘hand picked’ by the director. Which wouldn’t mean much in reality, if Mr Hoffman were not an established international choreographer.
Five major dance shows will sway the Temple Bar from September 6th until 21st. As a method of non-verbal communication, dance relies heavily on the choreographer’s vision, and acclimatisation of the dancer’s ability to convey an emotion or impression. The international input in the festival is perhaps predominantly evident in the dance recitals; the origins of a production are not exactly ambiguous when the performers are Bharatanatyam dancers, animated by the command of blaring Hindi music.
Success in all fringe ventures hinges on the willingness of the entertainers to self-produce their work. In the case of dancers, it equally rests on the fluidity of their feet and grace of their gestures. The autonomy granted to the dancer by the unobtrusive, subdued nature of Fringe, attunes the dramatisation of the dance’s intent, be it a solo show, or a contemporary, classical one.
Temple Bar is known as Dublin’s cultural quarter. On any given day, it boasts a large selection of events, exhibitions, and multiculturalism, embodied in the street music of the Irish harp, the beating of African drums, or the clicking of photos being taken by roaming Spanish students. The craic is now to be amplified by various street spectacles in offbeat spots. An urban playground is to be summoned by free runners, known as the Urban Ghosts, and Dublin’s Urban Playground team. Likewise, one particular performance called Pinnochio – unless it’s all lies – will take place in a car. Oh, and the programme cites another field for performances: Outer Space.
The visual artists exhibiting their work at the Fringe have long moved away from the standard fine-arts pieces they are typically known for producing. Visual art is a key characteristic of applied art, and ‘applied’ is wholeheartedly embraced by Fringe participants. For instance, Temple Bar will be the meeting place of Dublin and New York art, when Gallery Number One transforms into a ‘mini city’ for the graffiti artist twins known as Skewville. Indeed, the more askew, the better. At this stage the Fringe is a genre in its own right.
This year, the Fringe is so fresh, the festival will unveil sixteen new Irish scripts by a promising generation of talented playwrights. Fresh is what culture needs, and what Temple Bar uses as functioning fuel. So it’s handy that the Fringe programme dedicates a few lines to guaranteeing freshness. Doesn’t tossing your inhibitions aside, and enjoying shameless untamed performing arts, look like a plan to you?
