Joyous near hysteria grips people every year during theatre season and it has something to do with its ability to “create memories”, as Tiger Dublin Fringe’s new director, Kris Nelson, puts it. Unlike isolated performances during the year, theatre season is the only time that the performing arts approach that reckless euphoria we chase in all our other forms of entertainment.
Tiger Dublin Fringe and Dublin Theatre Festival are the zenith of the theatre calendar in terms of quality and audience engagement. But the greatest compliment one can offer them is that they are straight-up fun. They do create memories, going that extra mile in creating a festival experience that is inclusive, queer, all-brow, memorable and fundamentally about a good time. It’s the only time the theatre switches one purple rinse brigade for another of a livelier, brighter hue. They feed you, talk to you, offer you a playground, and later provide the music. It’s the only time that going to the theatre means you probably won’t make it home till 6am and might hook up. The injection of foreign meat and brains, the naughtiness, the holistic vein that runs through these festivals form but a side-show to the A1, world-class theatre that they program. But the sideshow is important: new and younger audiences are brought in and exposed to work they would never see were it not for the sense of energy and community the festivals generate.
Fringe and DTF deserve a double thumbs-up not just for making sure theatre gets to be the cool kid at least once a year, but for doing so successfully enough as to give us pause and remind us that we need to slow down, as much as the theatre industry needs to speed up. Totally Dublin caught up with Fringe’s new artistic director, Kris Nelson, to get the low down from him on what to expect in 2014.
What was your experience of the Irish theatre scene before you got here?
I came over in 2010 and I co-produced work with Irish companies before – I had work on in the Dublin Theatre Festival last year. I was always very attracted by the Irish aesthetic. My impression was that it was very sophisticated. I also thought from the outside that there was all the money in the world to make theatre with here, and now I know it’s not true… I’ve always been bowled over by the performers’ talent. There is something scarily good about the performers here. That was reinforced by the Fringe last year. I’ve always been very fascinated by the mobility that Irish artists have – there are all sorts of connections they have to the US, to Canada, to Australia, that we don’t have, which I think is really unique to Irish artists. Since being here I’m really heartened by the solidarity in the artistic community also. They’re close-knit but really pushing each other to do better. I think there’s room for innovators here – there’s a lot less “you’re getting too big for your britches” element in Ireland than I thought there would be.
Your background isn’t strictly theatre-based, you have quite a lot of experience with curating visual art events and other forms of non-theatrical performance. What are we going to see in this year’s festival that you specifically brought to it?
Well for sure the fact that there is a strong Canadian program obviously comes from my connections. I resisted it for a while, but then there are interesting connections happening between Canada and Ireland – I mean 15,000 working visas, 7,500 of which were gone within two hours! I feel that it’s important for the international acts to reflect the experience here. Both Ajax And The Iliad and How To Disappear Completely, are about art-making, euthanasia, war – issues that are close to ones we have here. There’s also acts like Tanya Tagaq from Canada, who’s really unlike anyone. Aside from the Canadian element, the provocations that I can add can be seen partly in the choice of Irish acts programmed, how we’ve framed and presented them. My personal touches might be in the work that is a little bit more surreal and psychedelic, like Tardigrade. I wanted to look at what we can do with our bodies – these super physicalised bodies that are also capable of critical thought, bodies that are also kind of florescent, maybe a little queer, and how can seeing things through this lens come together in successful performativity. The newer terrain for me is stand-up comedy and circus, but it’s been a delight to discover that.
In a way it’s important to open the tight-knit theatre community we have in Dublin to to someone who can offer a new perspective. Do you feel you are useful by way of being an outsider?
I think so, and I really felt I was welcomed very warmly. And anyway, people go to see international things in the Fringe because they’re hungry for things from outside Ireland. When I think back to the other scenes I’ve lived in, like the Montreal scene or the Vancouver scene, you’re always excited about an outside voice coming in. When I got the job someone said to me, “Oh congrats. Just remember, local carrots taste better,” and I was like, “Ah! That is so totally true!” And it is. But what I really enjoy is connecting people, and I think I can do that with this festival, and it’s one of the things that attracted me to the job. I’m really interested in Fringe being a place for Irish artists who are not of Irish origin, I think their voices are missing in the cultural scene and across the civic sphere probably. I think there’s plenty of potential for provocations.
Why do you think the Fringe always succeeds in drawing in new, young crowds, when theatre year-round struggles from what the Guardian recently described as “the deadness that comes when middle-class people run stuff”?
Well with the Fringe Festival you get the feeling of the smörgåsbord, or of a big party. This feeling that it’s a moment when you get to see a bunch of things that ricochet off each other. There’s something about Fringe that really stays with audiences and I think that’s the ability that a festival has. But I think there are audiences in Dublin that are really hungry for good new theatre, purple rinse or not. And for sure around the world it’s a form that is sort of struggling – look at the birth of super intimate plays. It’s like an attempt to jolt and change the system. I think it’s about changing the way we think of it. We tend to think of it as competing with your laptop or competing with your smartphone, whilst we perhaps should just look at it on its own. It does have a lot to do with the space. In the Fringe we can make everything feel like a festival, from The Peacock to Tom Walsh’s house. If I like being in a space it’s often out of civic pride or because it’s exciting, so maybe that’s something to think about. But formally I think there’s something new about to happen everywhere in the world, a new way of making or a return to a way of making that is going to reboot everything. I do feel we are on the cusp of something.
What show would you recommend to non-believers? Which ones would you recommend to super seasoned theatre-goers?
To non-believers I would recommend Chaos by Lords Of Strut because it’s infectiously funny. And for non-believers who want something hard-hitting I would say Amanda Coogan and Dublin Theatre Of The Deaf, with 40 people on stage it’s going to be sensational. Actually super seasoned theatre-goers should probably see those two shows too. But also Sad Sam Lucky because it’s a really exciting dance artist who can be read from a visual-art perspective.
Tiger Dublin Fringe runs citywide from September 5th to 20th, for bookings see www.fringefest.com or call box office on 1850 FRINGE (374 643)
Words: Roisin Agnew
Check out more of our Tiger Dublin Fringe Coverage here:
The Company on The Rest Is Action
Philip Connaughton on Tardigrade
Raymond Keane on Beckett’s Fizzles
Miguel Gutierrez on DEEP Aerobics
