That’s a welcome relief to festival sponsors and theatergoers spooked by the events of last year when protests erupted over the scheduled appearance of an Israeli theater company. The protests, fueled by anger over Israeli’s incursion into Gaza, resulted in the cancellation of the play by Israel’s Incubator Theater.
The demonstrators asserted that because the company received funding from the Israeli government it was complicit in alleged war crimes committed by Israel in the war. They failed to be dissuaded by a statement from the theater company’s director, Arik Eshet, who pointed out that the government had no say in the script nor had it interfered with the company’s artistic freedom. “It can be against the government, we are not censored. Every group that comes to the Fringe from other countries is unable to come without government help.” The government funding was, in any case, only about 10 percent of the company’s budget. People who have subsequently seen the cancelled play report that it was hardly incendiary and even rather boring, hardly worth all the commotion it sparked. “The Edinburgh Fringe is known for accepting everybody and as a place for free speech and free expression,” Eshet lamented, “I think the festival is losing ground to loud shouters.”
The shouters made themselves heard so well that they even caused collateral damage, briefly shutting down performances in venues close to the theater where the Incubator play was scheduled to run. One of the unintended victims was Darren Lee Cole, whose play was delayed by the ruckus. “I can’t stand anyone shouting down art,” says Cole who is also artistic director of New York’s Soho Playhouse. He took Israel’s side during the controversy even though he admits he was in the minority. “And I’m a Catholic atheist.” He tried to sound out his colleagues in the Scottish theatre industry about what they thought of the issue and whether they were as incensed by the cancellation as he was, but they all tried to change the subject. “They didn’t want to talk about it. It was as if they were in denial. It just made them very uncomfortable.” Cole’s play, by the way, was entitled “Rap Guide to Religion.”
The anti-Israeli protests were hardly the only heated issue to galvanize activists and demonstrators last year. The 2014 Fringe Festival took place in the run-up to the referendum on Scottish independence. About two dozen plays had a referendum theme, mostly in favor of independence. (Although the independence advocates lost the referendum, they had their revenge during parliamentary elections in which the Scottish National Party won big.)
While there’s less tumult at The Fringe this year, it retains its carnival-like atmosphere, offering a bewildering cornucopia of plays, stand-up routines, solo shows, dance performances, and events that can’t be so easily classified. This year’s festival boasts a staggering three thousand shows presented in over three hundred venues scattered throughout the city. There’s good reason why it’s earned the reputation of being the world’s largest international arts festival. (The Fringe itself incorporates several mini-festivals like Summerhall, Assembly, Gilded Balloon, Pleasance and Underbelly, each with its own distinct character. The Fringe isn’t the only festival in town in August, either. Anyone who isn’t sated by the Fringe can also choose to attend the Edinburgh International Festival, the Edinburgh International Exhibition of Photography or the Edinburgh Book Festival.) You can’t go for more than a block or two without someone proffering a handout promoting a show. The multitude of choices can leave even culture mavens with a sense of vertigo. On the other hand, tickets are reasonably priced – typically 10-15 pounds ($15-22) – and seldom last for more than an hour, minimizing the risk if you decide to satisfy your curiosity by seeing “Mike Wozniak: One Man Dad Cat Band” or “Adrienne Trustcot’s A One-Trick Pony,” described in a catalogue as “A disappointingly incoherent hour with false starts and worthy targets.” And if the show does turn out to be disappointing, you can always recover in one of Edinburgh’s countless pubs, most of which have extended their hours until two or three in the morning in marked contrast to London where pubs usually close their doors by 11:30. Although most Edinburgh natives welcome the visitors – and their money – there are inevitably some complaints. “It’s not as much fun this year,” grumbled one veteran who’s watched festivals come and go over the years, “It’s gone mainstream.”
Even though the festival might have been free of clamorous protests, playwrights were hardly in the mood to avoid controversy altogether. Predictably, several of this year’s offerings focused on Islamic extremism. Matthew Greenhough depicts the clash of civilizations in “Bismillah! An Isis Tragi-Comedy,” through the eyes of two young British men, one a soldier, the other his militant captor who is prepared to behead him on a live video broadcast. In Clive Holland’s “12.10.15,” a British photojournalist, taken hostage in the Middle East, is haunted by the ghost of a nurse executed by the Germans during the First World War. A critic for The Guardian noted that most of the jihadists in these and similar plays tend to see the light in the last act and renounce their militant ways. “There feels like a need for more voices from the other side from the other side…,” he added.
The other side probably isn’t very well represented by Shazia Mirza, a comic and columnist of Pakistani descent born in Birmingham, England. In her show at the Stand club, she mocks young Muslim women from the West who run off to Syria to marry Jihadists, calling them ‘horny’ rather than religious. “They think they’ve gone on a…holiday.”
In an attempt to project a more tolerant image of Islam, Edinburgh’s Central Mosque is putting on an Islamic Festival of its own in hope of drawing some of the Fringe’s audience although it’s less of a festival than a presentation in the mosque basement which largely consists of a series of panels with pictures and Wikipedia-like descriptions of the origins of Islam, its history, and achievements in art, science and literature. The exhibit (which has very few artifacts on display) places great emphasis on Islam’s roots in Christianity and Judaism, and points out that in many Islamic countries, Muslims once lived in harmony with members of other faiths. The threat of Islamic fanaticism is downplayed. But it’s not as if the sponsors of the Islamic festival aren’t willing to acknowledge the problem of terrorism. The festival also includes a series of talks by scholars which tackle volatile subjects like jihadism, the position of women in Muslim societies and blasphemy laws. There’s no evidence that anyone who attended any of these talks was moved to take to the streets in protest.
