Up: Violin vs Football, French Institute in Scotland ★★★★★
Is it theatre? Is it music, or maybe dance? Or even some kind of circus, or simply sport? In truth, the impossible-to-categorise Up: Violin vs Football at the French Institute in Scotland (originally put together with Le Phare Centre chorégraphique National du Havre Normandie) is all of those things, and very much its own thing too. Even if its genre is hard to define, two things are certain: first, it’s about as Fringey an experience as you can hope for; and second, it’s extremely good indeed.
That’s good in terms of the exceptional skills from both of its performers. Stand-out is freestyle footballer Paul Molina, who shows breathtaking virtuosity with the ball, almost breakdancing at times as he twists his body to keep the football suspended, and seeming to have an inexhaustible flow of energy too. There’s plenty of bristling sporty power in his playing, certainly, but also a lot of quieter, more poetic movements that sit far closer to dance. So remarkable are Molina’s skills, in fact, that they threaten to overshadow those of violinist Gabriel Majou, who conjures intricate, inventive musical backdrops with his five-string electric fiddle and a loop station.
But if that were all that Up had to offer, it wouldn’t be getting five stars. Instead, the two men’s astonishing abilities form just the foundations for a playful, captivating and quietly touching exploration of agility and athleticism, and also of friendship, competition and collaboration. Far from simply kicking a ball around to musical accompaniment, Up merges the pair’s talents in unexpected ways, and even sees them exchanging the tools of their respective trades for some surprising insights.
There are no profound life lessons here to take away, and Molina and Majou’s themes remain largely abstract, but it’s a remarkable achievement to have conjured such an electrifying and emotionally powerful show from such an unlikely pairing of ingredients. No, you don’t have to be a die-hard footie fan nor a committed string-music connoisseur to enjoy Up: instead, go with an open mind, a sense of curiosity and an openness to play and fun.
You and Me (and Whoever Comes Next), Summerhall ★★★★
The three performers from Truro-based Patch of Blue theatre company take care to explain in advance what we’re about to experience, who’ll be playing whom, who’ll be supplying the music, what their show is about. This is not just about inclusivity, though that aspect will surely be appreciated. Care is also the central theme of their insightful, ultimately very moving show, and it feels only right that they should offer the same care to their audience as what they’re about to explore on stage.
Though that care comes in very different forms. Co-writer Keron Day (pictured above) - who draws on his own personal experiences of disability in the show - has encountered all manner of live-in personal assistants, from clock-watchers to I-know-better-than-you-ers. But he knows full well, too, that it’s a fragile, precarious relationship: he needs a stable, understanding assistant to be able to live his life, and his carer needs him simply to earn a living. When eager Dani rocks up at his home, the two quickly find that those apparently clear divisions begin to blur, as do lines between employment and friendship.
You and Me (and Whoever Comes Next) has lots to say about the ordinary lives of disabled people, and about the compromises often accepted in return for stability and consistency, which though illuminating are not always easy to hear. Nonetheless, Patch of Blue deliver them within an often very funny show: Day in particular deadpans his way through often cutting observations, while Lauren Koster blends over-enthusiasm with warm-hearted sincerity as Dani. Martha Walker does a fine job across several other roles and as a singer and instrumentalist (alongside fellow musician Merle Powell-Smith), and direction by Patch of Blue artistic director Alex Howarth ensures a brisk pacing and abundantly clear storytelling.
In delving deep into the realities of a young disabled man’s life, You and Me (and Whoever Comes Next) brings you up close to questions of loneliness, agency and frustration, but it does so with plenty of sly wit and big-hearted generosity.
