Scotsman Fringe Awards

Kicking off with a powerful blast of good-time energy from the Creole Choir of Cuba, and featuring guest appearances from some of the most sought-after acts in town, this year's Scotsman Fringe Awards brought the festival to a close in style. To watch some selected highlights - including some emotional acceptance speeches - click on the YouTube links above.

Review of an imaginary musical

The cast of Showstopper!: The Improvised Musical asked our comedy critic Kate Copstick to write a review of an imaginary show, which they would then create from scratch. Unfortunately, she had to do it right after seeing Kim Noble. Here's what happened, in her own words...

Thursday am: I am putting the final touches to my review for Showstopper! I have to review a musical which does not exist, but one I'd like to see. I have written a storyline which I feel will resonate with an intelligent audience, being one where the vapid blonde soprano doesn't get the man. As a matter of fact the older, brunette with a voice not unlike Fischer Diskau at his height does.

Thursday 6.20pm: I arrive at Assembly to review Kim Noble's show Kim Noble Will Die.

7.20pm: I am in an alleyway beside Assembly, bereft of words, dizzy, on the brink of tears, thrilled and, for one of the very few times in my life, just wanting a hug.

7.35pm: Assembly Bar. The doyenne of Edinburgh PRs, Liz Smith, buys me a large Jaegermeister and sits while I stumble and stutter and gaze at my knuckles and attempt to describe the show adequately.

7.50pm: I am panicking because I cannot get any enthusiasm up for anything that isn't climbing Arthur's Seat with a bottle of something serious and gazing at the stars while I consider... stuff. But I have to get my West End Wendy frock on.

10pm: As I arrive at George Square Theatre the cast are warming up. I can feel my fillings loosen as I lurk at the back of the space. I am clutching my review. This is how it reads...

The show within a show is a classic conceit and in this wonderful new musical it is used to maximum effect. The first scene is absolutely electrifying – two bodies in the throes of passion – it is like opening of Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de Lune adapted by Kander and Ebb. Or indeed the opening of Steven Sondheim’s Passion- but without the unintentional comic effect of Michael Ball trying to look heterosexual.

I really don’t know how the two had enough breath left to sing. But somehow they did. The onstage chorusline of voyeurs is a clever nuance and the Fosse-esque choreography enhances the scene like amyl nitrate enhances a quickie. Only then do we discover that this is only a rehearsal. A young and unfeasibly good-looking musical theatre company from Newcastle is bringing their make-or-break production to the Edinburgh Festival. Everything hinges on a success here. You can smell their desperation. “Oh God we need five stars,” they sing “We really need five stars.” The quasi-documentary style of the piece is something wholly new to musical theatre. Their production of Do I Hear A Little Night Passion As We Roll Along or Am I Losing My Mind opens tonight and the most feared critic in Edinburgh is coming to review.

She is a chain-smoking hard drinking woman – a hardcore version of Anne Bancroft in The Graduate with a voice like Elaine Stritch on steroids. The director of the show – a man so camp he has to have guy ropes to hold him down in a high wind – will not see his production fall victim to an embittered old crone and despatches his leading man – a young stud, of striking physical beauty and prowess – to ‘take one for the team’ (one of the most moving songs in the show) and get the critic onside. As it were.

The young man’s on and offstage lover – a stunningly beautiful, young blonde soprano with a vocal range of three octaves and an emotional range of f*** all is, of course, devastated. But somehow, we just don’t care. The young man and the critic meet in another electric scene and the growing passion between the two is the heart of this terrific little show. Musically, the scene where the entire cast are on-stage singing a complex ensemble piece while the young man sings a counter-duet with the critic in the audience is the high point. In many ways reminiscent of Traviata Act 2 Scene 2 – and I have no greater praise than that. The love affair is, of course, doomed to failure. The critic doesn’t want a plaything. The revelation that all she really wants is to be in a musical results in the shows brilliant closing scene – a glorious affirmation that dreams can come true.

10.25pm: I decide that lipstick would be more showbizzy so I disappear to the loos to apply some Stayfast. My lips are now an alarming shade of scarlet and, should the bomb drop tonight, would be the only things except cockroaches and Jonathan Ross's ego to survive.

10.50pm: The show starts. I notice my chest is blushing a reather unattractive shade of puce. That happens when I am nervous. But my review gets laughs. Dangerous. I begin to consider a return to performing. The cast is unbelievably good. Brilliant, in fact. My musical unfolds and it is beyond my wildest expectations. I start to think they must have had prior notice of the plot and the numbers.

Then I remember I wrote the outline and I have shown no one a thing. I am having the time of my life. And actually get applauded for something that an awesomely talented cast have done. I accept the applause.

Midnight: I am penning a five star review ... words like talent, incredible, hilarious, unbelievable, stunning, litter the page along with Queen, bald, Jennifer Aniston, Geordie and steroids. I think of adding 'don't miss this show', but realise you already have. So I add, don't miss seeing Showstoppers ! You really mustn't.

2am Go to sleep dreaming of being in a musical with Kim Noble ...

Showstopper! The Improvised Musical is at Musical Theatre @ George Square, 10:50pm, until tomorrow.

Always pleased with a piece of cheese

Q: What's the first thing Lucy Porter does when she arrives in Edinburgh for the Fringe?
A: Makes a beeline for Mellis's cheese shop to pick up some stinky brie.
To find out more about Lucy's addiction to premium-quality dairy products, click on the YouTube link above.

The miraculous comedy powers of Brendon Burns

These days he's one of the biggest names on the Fringe, but not so very long ago Brendon Burns was playing the back room of an Edinburgh pub, using a sound system that broke down every time he raised his voice. The turning point in his career? A summer at the Pleasance King Dome where, as well as cementing his reputation as a comedy A-lister, he miraculously cured a cripple through the power of laughter. To find out more, click on the YouTube link above.

Shappi's secret garden

Shappi Khorsandi's favourite place in Edinburgh? The garden at Mansfield Traquair, at the bottom of Broughton Street. To find out why, click on the YouTube link above.

The joy of junk

Aindrias de Staic, today's When in Edinburgh interviewee, loves nothing more than scouring the city's junk shops for musical instruments to use in his shows. To read about his long-standing love affair with Le Chariot Express on South Clerk Street, click here. So watch him in action, in a clip from a forthcoming documentary from Merchant's Gate Films, click the YouTube link above.

Hello Jack Vettriano

In terms of commercial clout and international popularity, Jack Vettriano is Scotland's most successful living artist by a considerable margin - his prints sell in such huge quantities that he reportedly earns £500,000 a year in royalties alone. Yet for reasons best known to themselves, officials at the National Galleries of Scotland (NGS) still refuse to exhibit his work. Vettriano has railed against this state of affairs for years, but to no avail. As far as the NGS are concerned, it seems his work simply doesn't cut the mustard.

It was a historic moment, then, when Edinburgh band St Jude's Infirmary cheekily unveiled a Vettriano painting at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery on Saturday night, at the launch party for their outstanding new album, This Has Been The Death of Us. The gig was the latest in a series of live music performances taking place this month, as part of the groundbreaking street art exhibition Rough Cut Nation (www.roughcutnation.co.uk).

Resting on an easel to the right of a makeshift stage, Vettriano's moody self-portrait was only on display for about an hour, while St Jude's performed a mixture of old favourites and material for their new record. But the point had been made: Jack had finally entered the building, albeit via the back door.

The painting, which appears on the cover of the new St Jude's album, is entitled Marked Heart, and shows Vettriano standing against a dark background with one arm outstretched.

"He looks like he's about to slit his wrists listening to a St Jude's track," joked the band's guitarist Grant Campbell after the gig.

Vettriano and St Jude's have admired each other's work for some time now. The group first caught Vettriano's attention in 2006, when they sent him a recording of their song Goodbye Jack Vettriano, the lyrics to which Campbell wrote when he was feeling homesick in a bar in Rotterdam and saw a Vettriano print on the wall.

St Jude's asked the artist if he would appear in a video they were making for BBC Scotland's The Music Show and he agreed, telling The Scotsman at the time: "It's a really brilliant song... it's all about the pain we feel falling in and out of love."

Along with crime writer Ian Rankin, another St Jude's fan, Vettriano has lent his thick, treacly vocals to a number of spoken word interludes on the new album. The band's singer and guitarist, Mark Francis, says he sounds "like a very Fife God".

And although he couldn't be in Edinburgh on Saturday to see his work finally make it into the Portrait Gallery, Vettriano was apparently aware that St Jude's were planning the stunt and gave them his blessing.

To watch an interview with Grant Campbell and Mark Francis, and to watch St Jude's Infirmary performing Goodbye Jack Vettriano live at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery, click on the YouTube link above.

Stand-ups take over Fringe Firsts

Comedians were everywhere at this week's Fringe Firsts ceremony, with Rhona Cameron helping our chief theatre critic Joyce McMillan hand out the awards and stand-ups Mark Watson and Daniel Kitson among the second week's list of winners. Watson's acceptance speech, in particular, was a gem. Click the YouTube links above to watch all the action.

Rain stops play

Pappy's Fun Club and The Penny Dreadfuls are two of the most successful sketch comedy troupes to grace the Fringe in recent years, and on the surface they’re best of friends: they hang out at gigs together, they go drinking together – heck, they even go over to each other’s houses to play video games together. Probe this thin veneer of bonhomie, however, and you’ll find a fierce competitive spirit lurking just beneath.

Earlier this week, the Pappy’s v Pennies rivalry spilled over onto the cricket pitch – a contest that would give one troupe bragging rights over the other for the rest of the Fringe. To watch our film of the encounter, click on the YouTube link above. Read more about what happened here.

Power trip

EVEN if you're stone cold sober, walking around the Power Plant installation at Edinburgh's Royal Botanic Garden feels like some mad, psychedelic acid trip. Glowing, robotic insects chatter in the foliage and dance in the trees, ripped-up second-hand dresses float around the lily ponds like wraiths and a giant outdoor organ spouts balls of flame into the air from the tips of its pipes. To watch our film of the installation, click on the YouTube link above.

A puppet bares his soul

Since his wife left him and his promising showbiz career went into an alcohol-fuelled tailspin, Randy the Puppet hasn't given a single interview, so we were honoured when he agreed to talk exclusively to The Scotsman at his favourite Edinburgh watering hole, the Greyfriars Bobby bar. After a spell in rehab, the fallen star is attempting to relaunch his career at this year's Fringe with a confessional solo show, Randy's Postcards from Purgatory, at the Underbelly until 30 August. The reviews have been largely positive but, as we discovered, he's still got a bit of a problem with the demon drink...

Mark Watson's 24 hour show: the edited highlights

Couldn't get a ticket for Mark Watson's sold-out last ever 24-hour show? Don't despair: our friends at Sherwood Films went along to capture the action. By the time the film crew arrived at the Pleasance Dome, things were already hotting up. The day-long laugh-in kicked off 20 minutes late, so Watson decided the time should be changed all over Scotland to restore the natural order of things. To this end, he dispatched fellow comic Sammy J to Edinburgh Airport to inform passengers and officials of the change (wearing 50 items of clothing donated by members of the audience, just in case they didn't take him seriously). To find out what happened next, click on the YouTube link above.

Out on the town with ThisSideUp

There’s been a huge spike in the number of circus/theatre crossover acts on the Fringe this year, and leading the charge are the acrobats of Australian company ThisSideUp with their new show, Controlled Falling, at Udderbelly’s Pasture. Earlier in the week we followed Casey Douglas, Christian Schooneveldt-Reid and James Brown (no, not that one) as they took elements of the production out of the theatre and onto the streets of Edinburgh. To watch the mind-bending results, click the YouTube link above. The soundtrack comes courtesy of David Joseph, who performs live music during the show.

Remembering Fred Hood, by Jonathan Broke

In the Underbelly at the weekend, we celebrated the life of a true Fringe Hero. Our friend and inspiration, Fred Hood, had died tragically on Christmas Eve of last year whilst skiing and, to honour his life and build his legacy, original company members of his company Double Edge Drama from the 1999-2001 era descended upon Edinburgh from all over the world. Fred was 28, and lived in Edinburgh.

Fred was one of life’s most beautiful characters, a man with a vast emotional palate and a traveller’s instinct for taking a risk in the name of discovery. Exceptionally bright and well read, Fred had attended Harvard University having left Eton College. His passion for theatre brought together a group of American and English actors and writers, who enjoyed remarkable success at the Fringe in 2000 and 2001.

The Underbelly, run by Fred’s then Double Edge Drama companions Ed Bartlam and Charlie Wood, grew into the spectacularly creative hub that it has become off the back of Double Edge’s inspired productions at that time - notably Fred’s own staging of Martin Sherman’s Bent.

At the weekend the cast and crew of nine years ago re-assembled to re-stage Bent, faithful to Fred’s original production, under the sensitive guidance of Fred’s great Harvard friend, Cary Maclellan. There was a cabaret to honour Fred, in which many of his friends showed off their talents for comedy, singing, oration and the quite frankly absurd. The original Underbelly improv group, Underbelly Funk, took to the stage again to see if they were still funny. Fred would have laughed throughout, which is more than can be said for the occasionally bewildered audience.

Also, there were readings of new work. To continue Fred’s legacy a fund in his name is being set up to help young artists to take their work to Edinburgh and enjoy the opportunities that Fred gave all of us all those years ago. Discussions for this are ongoing.

In amongst this emotionally charged weekend my current show, Comedy Bitch, continued its fabulous, maiden Edinburgh voyage. I think Fred would have loved Comedy Bitch. He would have been highly amused by the parody, and mock-disapproving of some of the more salacious material.

Whilst we all worry about reviews, success, ‘the future’ and if we know the right people, how wonderful to spend a weekend dedicated to what the Fringe is really all about: great art, laughter, new writing, friendships and genuine integrity. Fred, you are dearly missed. Now look down from up there and watch Comedy Bitch.

Jonathan Broke's show Comedy Bitch is at the Underbelly, 5.35pm, until 30 August.

Tomorrow's news today

Is it possible to see into the future? This morning we received a visit from a man who claims he can, writes Roger Cox, deputy arts editor. Magician, mind-reader and Silver Medal Associate of the Inner Magic Circle, Ivor Cole arrived at The Scotsman offices bright and early with a small, sealed black box. Inside that box, he assured us, were the contents of The Scotsman’s front page for Friday 21 August.

Now, I’m as cynical as the next person when it comes to magic tricks, but two things about this one really caught my attention. First of all, predicting what’s going to be on a newspaper front page on any given day is a fiendishly difficult undertaking. Events will happen when they’re going to happen, and if a big story breaks right before deadline, everything has to change at the last minute. Predicting a front page even a couple of hours before the paper is due to go to press would be a big a gamble; predicting what’s going to be there a week in advance is a million-to-one shot.

The other intriguing thing about this challenge is Cole himself, and in particular his former job towards the top of the food chain at Associated Newspapers, publishers of The Daily Mail, The Mail on Sunday and The Evening Standard. For 30 years, Cole worked as a media lawyer for Associated, eventually rising to the position of Legal Director. He puts his successful career in the courtroom down to his ability to read the minds of opposing counsel and High Court Judges, but might he also have used his extraordinary skills to tip off journalists about big stories that were about to break?

Were Associated operating with an unfair advantage all the time Cole was in their employ? And when he left, were efforts made to find another person or persons with similar powers of foresight to take his place? Do the Mail and the Standard have clairvoyants working for them right now, tucked away in some darkened room deep in the bowels of Northcliffe House like the Precogs from Minority Report? Probably not, but it’s fun to speculate.

In his new role as a magician, Cole has tried to predict newspaper headlines several times, with a good deal of success. He’s attempted the feat 18 times already, and on 16 occasions, he says, his predictions have proven accurate. This isn’t simply a case of vague guesswork either – Cole aims to be as specific as possible:“It won’t look like a fluke when I open the box on Friday,” he says, “because there will be too many points of prediction. It’s been worked out so it can’t look flukey.”

As I write this, I have Cole’s black box sitting in front of me, signed and sealed. The temptation to open it is mighty strong, believe me – it’s not every day you get a chance to take a peek into the future – but I’m just going to have to contain myself. As agreed with Ivor, when I’ve finished writing this, I’m going to lock the box in my desk drawer for safe keeping. Then, on Friday night, I’m going to bring it to Ivor’s show, The Mind Magic of Ivor Cole, along with a copy of Friday’s Scotsman – where it will be opened on stage in front of a live audience.

I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled for any clever sleight of hand tricks or substitute boxes, so if Cole’s predictions really do turn out to be accurate, we’ll know two things: one, that he is a very skilful magician indeed and two, that some of the exclusive stories that appeared in the Mail and the Standard while he was working for Associated may have been arrived at in a rather unconventional manner.

Of course, there’s much more to Cole’s live show than this one trick. For his grand finale, he’s going to try something he’s never done before: “I’m asking that the audience bring in books," he says, discarded paperbacks, books from charity shops or whatever. Then I’m going to ask them to open them up and pick words at random and then I’ll try to guess the words they’ve picked.”

All very impressive, but perhaps not quite as impressive as predicting a newspaper front page a week in advance.

The Mind Magic of Ivor Cole is at Sweet Grassmarket (Venue 18), 9:30pm until 31 August

Fringe First Awards

The Scotsman's Fringe First award ceremonies, introduced by our chief theatre critic Joyce McMillan, are always special occasions, but having Lionel Blair along to present the coveted plaques yesterday gave the whole affair an extra bit of showbiz sparkle.

The legendary entertainer admitted he'd never been to the Fringe before "because nobody's ever invited me" but added "it's probably the most important festival in the world". If you weren't able to make it to the Assembly Rooms, but would like to find out what happened, click on the YouTube link above. To read more about the Fringe Firsts, click here.

How I did the Fringe at five days' notice, by Michele Gallagher

In August 2009 I had planned to paint my spare room, sort out my taxes, catch up with friends and maybe cycle around Millport (I've always wanted to do that). Performing in the Citizens Theatre's production of The Sound of My Voice at the Assembly Rooms as part of this year's Edinburgh Fringe was not on my agenda. Yet here I am.

On 31 July, my painting plans where shelved when my agent called, 'What time can you be at The Citz?' 'Eh, can you give me an hour?.' By one o'clock, I'm with Jeremy Raison, the director, reading from his adaptation of Ron Butlin's brilliant novel. By two o'clock Jeremy had offered me the part, by three I was handed a script, introduced to my other cast member, the wonderful Billy Mack, and the countdown began.

The Sound of My Voice had a very successful run last year at the Citizens Theatre in Glasgow. Unfortunately, the original actress had to leave the production, but in true showbiz style, 'the show must go on' and so did I.

The rehearsal process was... quick! Usually, you have three weeks to get to know your fellow cast members, create characters and learn lines. All the while the nerves and excitement build as you approach opening night. I had fve days; there was no time for nerves.

The piece is based on an alcoholic business executive played by Billy, and the complex and strained relationships he has with the people in his life. These characters, all of which I play, range from an innocent five-year-old girl to a 'gallus' 45 year old business man with many more popping up along the way.

For the few days leading up to the Fringe, I lived and breathed the script, tearing my eyes away only to eat or sleep. My poor boyfriend patiently read each scene with me over and over again, until the characters began to find their voice and the words were committed to memory.

Now, one week into our run, those first frantic days seem like a distant memory. I am finally performing in a Citizens Theatre production (something I have longed to do since my ushering days there, while at drama school) in an amazing play, which is part of one of the biggest and best festivals in the world and I am having the time of my life. The spare room can wait.

The Sound of My Voice is at Assembly @ George Street, 3:20pm, until 30 August.

That drinking feeling, by Otto Rot

I was so excited to come to Scotland for the first time because it is the home of Franz Ferdinand and Belle and Sebastian, two of my favourite bands in the world. I imagined Edinburgh to be all indie-cool and arty. The perfect place for my sister Astrid and I to play super concerts.

We got to our hotel near the Royal Mile very late on a Saturday night and there were three women laughing at their friend vomiting on the sidewalk. It made me a bit scared for Astrid. She has just come out of drug and alcohol rehabilitation and is starting a new life.

It was only a few months ago that I was waiting backstage to play a concert in Montreal. There were just five minutes before the start and this bad smell walks in the door with Astrid. She looked very dizzy. We were about to play one of the most important gigs of our life and she was drunk with sick all over the front of her dress. She said it was just some garlic mayonnaise from a Doner Kebab - but I didn’t believe her.

Things now are great - she has been through rehab so she can sing better, she stands up straight for longer and she hits the drum kit nearly every time. Touring in a rock ‘n’ roll band with your sister is not easy. Astrid makes me wash her hair, polish her boots and get food from the Baked Potato store. Also, every afternoon there is a man playing the bagpipes near her bedroom window. She makes me give him £50 to go to another spot down the street so that she can sleep.

So far Edinburgh has been great to us. The concerts are electric, everyone is friendly, and I’m meeting lots of people from Facebook. Astrid can get very cranky but at least she is healthy.

People of Edinburgh, I want to ask you a favour as a friend. If you see my sister Astrid hanging out in the Pleasance Courtyard or walking along Nicholson St please DO NOT offer her a drink. In fact please don’t even say the word “vodka” in front of her. She will go crazy in the gutter instead of on stage at our Robot / Lion Tour

Die Roten Punkte - Robot Lion Tour is at the Pleasance Courtyard, 11:11pm, until 31 August.

Cybraphon - further reading and viewing

It's not often that we put a robot on the front of our Festival magazine, writes arts editor Andrew Eaton, but we make an exception for today's cover star, Cybraphon, the ingenious invention of multi-talented Edinburgh band and art collective, Found, which is currently on show at the Inspace Gallery as part of the Edinburgh Art Festival (the clip above is from the Art Festival's YouTube site, which also features short films about Eva Hesse, Bob and Roberta Smith and more).

As regular readers will know, the Scotsman has been championing Found for some time now. Most recently, the band featured on the cover of our Saturday magazine earlier this year, illustrating a feature on Edinburgh's extraordinarily vibrant music scene.

Local blogger Matthew James Young recently argued in a post raving about Cybraphon that Found are the kind of band who would be hailed as mavericks all across the media if they lived in London. I suspect he's right. As it is, they live in Edinburgh and remain mostly unknown outside Scotland. It's nice to see Cybraphon getting them more widespread attention - at the rate things are currently going, their creation will end up being more famous than them.

Here they are jamming with their creation (as they will do again at a live event at Inspace tomorrow night), as filmed by Off The Beaten Tracks.



If you're a fan of Found, you won't want to miss an event called Playing With The Past at the Filmhouse in Edinburgh on 22 August, in which the band will perform a live soundtrack to footage from the Scottish Screen archives, alongside two more of Edinburgh's best bands, Meursault and Eagleowl.

Surviving the Fringe (part two) by Pete Johansson

This is my first festival and, as much as I packed my bags with all sorts of preparations for my month long stay – pain killers, vitamins, cold and flu tablets – the one thing I didn’t count on was the endless changes in my sleep pattern. I confess I am guilty of the sin of sloth and I require immense amounts of sleep, but timing it for interviews, performances and late night parties is one hell of a proposition. I truly understand the appeal of certain drugs that circulate. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on the perspective) I do not possess the constitutions for these concoctions so I am limited to Starbuck’s coffee and Red Bull to awaken me, as well as the cold shower (surprisingly effective and environmentally friendly). And for the trip to slumber a mixture of chamomile, sleep medicine, personal sexual gratification and pod-casts on economics.

When I do sleep though, I am confronted with this constant nagging that I might be missing the best party on earth. As though my head on pillow is a secret trigger to release the movie stars hiding in bars to converge on my one gossipy friend who will reinforce what I missed by going home. And when I finally do go out to mix it up and have a little party, I often think I am missing the best sleep I might get. It’s the battle between good and evil, sleep and wake, and it is being played out upon me as I tax my body with drink and temperature extremes. Who will win? I cannot know. But as I push myself to arise some afternoons, I am glad I don’t drive a school bus or operate sensitive machinery. All I do is find an hour of my day to whip up my show and make people laugh.

Now if you don’t mind I have to catch up on some zzzs as I have an interview in an hour.

Pete Johansson’s show Naked Pictures Of My Life is at the Underbelly, 7:25pm, until 31 August.

Surviving the Fringe (part two), by Carl Donnelly

If you would have asked me last week “what would you like your first 24 hours at the Edinburgh festival to be like?” I can’t be sure what my response would have been. However, I am quite confident it would not have been “I’d like to come down with suspected swine flu and then damage the rental vehicle I drove to Edinburgh in causing me to lose my deposit”.

Unfortunately, this is exactly how my Fringe began. On the eve of my departure, I suddenly found myself with flu-like symptoms (with a few bonus symptoms thrown in for good measure). Not to let a little thing like a deadly virus slow me down, I continued with my planned journey which included me collecting a hire car, filling it up with enough provisions for a month, picking up Chris Martin and Benny Boot, and heading north of the border.

The eight-and-a-half hour journey went without incident and we arrived outside our home for the month, at which point Chris stepped out of the car leaving the door open forgetting about the famous “Edinburgh Winds”. As if in slow motion, the wind caught the door, swinging it wildly into a lamp-post. The three of us stared at the dent for about five minutes, not speaking, still in a state of shock that we had got the car here in one piece following a 430 mile drive from South London, only to be undone by the lamp-post outside our lodgings.

Finally we agreed to get our stuff into the flat and work out our plan from there. We moved all of our bags in and I jumped back into the car to find a more suitable parking space.

I saw a parking space at the end of the road so turned into it, suddenly hearing a crunching noise. Looking forward I saw an elderly woman on the pavement shaking her head. I stepped out and before I even got around the car she said loudly “You've messed your wheel right up there!” I got to the wheel to see I had smashed the wheel trim on the curb.

A tense evening of sneezing and self-hatred was followed by an early morning trip to the car rental depot where, having told them what had happened, they not surprisingly worked out I was a comedian up for the festival. My offer of complimentary tickets did not sway them in letting me off paying for the damage.
On the plus side, I don’t have swine flu, just a regular cold, so this festival is officially looking up.

Carl Donnelly’s show Relax Everyone, It’s Carl Donnelly! is at the Underbelly, 9:05pm, until 30 August.

All-singing, all-dancing, by Stephen K Amos

It’s that crazy time of year again when hundreds of otherwise successful comedians decide to risk their reputations, re-mortgage their homes and court liver failure by taking part in the the biggest arts festival on the planet. Young performers from all over the world have been hunched over desks, overflowing with ideas, desperately writing and rehearsing their shows with one big aim – to tease a smile from the comedy savvy Scots and crack them up in the aisles. As for me? I just hope it doesn’t rain because the sewers have been known to rise after a heavy downpour – Edinburgh’s not called Auld Reekie for nothing!

I’ve been on the road for the couple of weeks before the Fringe doing what we comics solemnly term previews. When performers who regularly command big audiences sneak off to play in tiny rooms tucked in the upstairs spaces of dusty and musty pubs to try out our newest half-boiled material. I've run the gamut from the delightful Comedy Bunker at the Ruislip Golf Club to the Tattershall Castle, not a castle at all but rather a wobbly boat moored on the river Thames off the Embankment. I couldn't be sure that any groans from the crowd were due to mild bouts of seasickness rather than a defect of material.

Things got off to a rocky start for me this year as I missed my flight due to an acute bout of lost passport. The nice men and women at British Midland were happy to let me board the next flight using nothing more than an extra £200 quid. Last year we got into the rented flat to find a life sized oil-painting of a gollywog and so I was careful to use a reputable estate agent this time. No gollywogs for me this time. however, no gas. So after shivering through my first night in Bonny Scotland we went to a hotel for a shower and a shave. There are a couple of places that rent by the hour down on Salamander Street in Leith if you’re ever in the need or want to slip off for a dalliance.

This year my show has a few surprises. Our first job was to find some singers and dancers in the city willing to take a turn with me on stage. Who’d have thought it would be so hard to find some drama students ready to don leotards and have a laugh for a couple of minutes in my venue when so many seem to be making a go of it on the Royal Mile? Exasperated, we took some time out to let out hair down at the legendary CC Bloom’s where, to our luck, a karaoke show was going on! A couple of shandies later and we’d found a star singer who could sing, dance and all in high heels.

Unfortunately it turned out they were doing their own show which conflicted with ours, but a couple of phone calls from him and we had half the musical theatre types in Edinburgh performing in our kitchen (now nicely heated). I felt like Miss Grant from Fame You want fame? Well fame costs! The best of the bunch were truly mind-blowing and they are currently to be seen on stage in the Pleasance Grand with yours truly. Any requests for their talents in future reviews will have to come through me now. I own them.

Stephen K Amos’s show, The Feelgood Factor, is at the Pleasance Courtyard, 9:40pm, until 31 August

Crabbit about the Crunch

When Edinburgh-based property tycoon Tim Hegarty lost a fortune in the credit crunch, he decided to cheer himself up by producing a Fringe musical, based on one of his wife Julie's popular children's books. To find out more about Crabbit: The Musical, click here. To watch our short film about the making of the show, click the YouTube link above.

A wee preview, by Patrick Monahan

Every comic loves the festival, even if they tell you they don’t. And every comic goes through the same process – the unwritten rule of previewing your Edinburgh show in every venue around Britain, playing every art centre to the tiniest and booziest pub in little england. The experience is always priceless. There's nothing like the look of the faces of the 70 locals in the Duck and Flipper upstairs pub room in Shrewsbury town as the host of the night says to the audience "grab yourselves two drinks cos the next act will be performing his new one hour edinburgh show!" and all 70 people give the same look of "his what show?" not realsing there's such a thing as a Fringe festival in Edinburgh and just think you're about to do a one hour stand up show in a scottish accent with a lot of Scottish-based jokes!

The greatest joy at the festival is the feeling of having two New Year’s Eves a year. On the eve of an Edinburgh Fringe, every comic has a head full of ideas and a heart full of hope and optimism. We make a wishlist of all the new things we will learn and achieve and aim to conquer.

Last year I and a fellow comic, sharing a flat, decided we'd buy a fruit blender so we could make fresh smoothies every day. We bought a bread maker from Argos because it would be more economical to make our own granary loaves, and we both subscribed to a month’s membership at the gym. We discussed how we'd use the gym every day in the mornings and afternoons to freshen up before our shows. To be honest I don’t even think the bloke who sold us the memberships worked at the gym, it was just some random bloke in a tracksuit, but we never made it in to the gym to find out).

Day three of the Fringe is like 3 January – all your dreams and goals have got lost out in the ocean of dispear. Our fruit blender had got broken by experimenting with a giant fruit and nut Cadbury’s chocolate bar, a tub of ice cream and, by accident, a TV remote control. The bread maker had turned into storage space for half eaten packs of cakes and broken biscuits. And the gym membership cards were being used as vital substitute fridge magnets to stick shopping receipts to the fridge door so we could see who owed who for half of the shopping! Comedians are the tightest people i know – they won’t even do three minutes of over time unless you get on your feet and stamp and cheer wildly for them.

I have done shows at the Edinburgh Festival every year from 2002 without a single year off and I hope to keep performing every year until I’m old as Ken Dodd (or until I have paid as much VAT as him). I’m aiming to play every venue the Fringe has on offer. That’s the main reason why you can never get bored of the place – everywhere becomes a new venue. I’ve played most places except for the bus stop on Prince’s St – I’m saving up a deposit to hire it for Edinburgh 2012 and call it “the Monahan Bus tour”. It should have a captive regular audience, even if its only for seven minutes while they wait for the no.38 to Musselburgh.

I’m doing two shows this year, a kids’ show and an adult show, which is the weirdest preparation I’ve ever had to do. It’s like training as a 400 metre sprinter and a freestyle swimmer – one minute you’re trying to run as fast as you can, the next you’re trying to move on your belly without getting snot and water in your face.

My weirdest preparation for any Edinburgh preview has to be July this year, when I did my new show Cowboys and Iranians in the sleepy fishing town (and big drinking haven) of Shoreham-on-Sea. As I was about to leave the stage a drunk bloke in the front row stood up and shouted “please will you dance with my wife, I told her this morning that I love her, will you dance with her for me?”

Before I could decide anything the crowd were all shouting “Dance with her!” so I said ok. She came up on to the stage, hammered as her husband, and we started to do the jive and other drunk dance moves (even though I don't drink) while the crowd went crazy.

The women then jumped up onto me like in Dirty Dancing where the lass puts her legs around Patrick Swayze’s chest (although the lass in the movie was about 25 years younger and twice as many pounds lighter). As the crowd howled with laughter I played along, spinning her round, until i felt a gushing hot sensation like someone had suddenly switched on a hot tap. Then, as I put her back down on the stage, the audience fell over with laughter as they saw my whole chest area drenched wet and this woman next to me, dripping from her groin.

I was a bit shellshocked, as most people are who have just been wee’d on. To save her blushes, I said: “i think that ice pop you had in your pocket has melted!” and the audience gave her a massive round of applause as she walked back to her seat.

Then, just as for the second time in the night I was trying to say good night - and take my damp shirt off - the drunk husband stood up again and shouted "will you dance with me now please?" At this point, the whole audinece just cracked up again, howling and cheering. I politly reminded him, "As much fun as all this is, it's got very little to do with my show about cowboys and Iranians. I'd love to dance with you but to be honest I'm terrified - I've just danced with your missus and I'm now covered in wee, if I dance with you I don't know if I could handle what you're going to cover me with!"

I gave him a polite cuddle and left the stage to sit on a three-hour train journey home, in a shirt and trousers covered in someone else’s urine. I’m still trying to work out if it was a successful Edinburgh preview or not.

Patrick Monahan’s Cowboys and Iranians is at the Gilded Balloon Teviot, 9:15pm, until 31 August. His children’s show is at Gilded Balloon Teviot, 1:30pm until 30 August.

The day the Fringe changed a bit

I’ll be honest: I wasn’t looking forward to taking part in the Fringe’s new Meet the Media event on Saturday, writes deputy arts editor Roger Cox. The thought of sitting at a trestle table for an afternoon while hundreds of performers queued up to tell me about their Fringe shows really didn’t appeal, for the simple reason that I don’t like giving people bad news. Although The Scotsman reviews way more Fringe shows than any other major UK publication, we can’t review them all (we typically manage to cover about a third) so for every person I was going to be able to make happy, there were going to be two that I would have to make sad. Or mad. Or maybe even violent. I know that if I’d put my life and soul – not to mention my life savings – into a Fringe show, only to be told by some bloke from The Scotsman that nobody was coming to review it, I’d probably be tempted to indulge in a little ABH.

In the end, though, something I thought was going to be a bit of a chore turned into an absolute pleasure, and nobody tried to punch me. Originally I’ll only planned to stay for my allotted 2pm-3pm time slot, then hand over to our arts correspondent Tim Cornwell and slope off to get some writing done. But when Tim arrived I was having such a good time that I decided to stick around for another five minutes… and then another ten minutes... and then another half an hour… By the time 4pm rolled around I was on my third cup of coffee and still utterly engrossed – really, genuinely inspired by the energy and enthusiasm of the people I was getting to meet. Finally, at 4:15pm, after two hours and 15 minutes of full-on datablast, I had no option but to drag myself away and empty my bulging bladder.

Judging by the number of press releases I managed to accumulate on Saturday, it seems I met representatives from 44 shows in two hours and 15 minutes. I’d love to give them all a mention here, but I don’t have time. The following folks really made an impression – I hope you’re able to go and see them if you get the chance.

There’s nothing like a striking costume to get you noticed on the Fringe (I should know: a few festivals ago – for a feature, not a dare – I had to dress up in various silly outfits and go out flyering on the Royal Mile. Dressing up as a toilet, I discovered, works remarkably well.) American writer/performer Jordan Herskowitz looked like he was about to pass out when he finally reached The Scotsman table, sweating profusely in a giant furry bull costume.

His show, Jordy Pordy, about his experiences as a professional sports mascot, is at Sweet Grassmarket until 30 August. Also impressively attired were the cast of Israeli show Matinee, togged up as superheroes to promote their silent tribute to Hollywood’s greatest films (Pleasance Dome, until 26 August). Most spectacular of all, though, were the traditional costumes worn by the performers from Memeza Africa. Their show, at the King’s Centre until 31 August, is a collaboration with Canadian singer-songwriter Holly Wright – surely the first musical Canadian-South African fusion ever to hit the Fringe.

Speaking of unusual musical combinations, I also received a visit from Austrian duo Living Room. Cristoph Pepe Auer plays the bass clarinet while Manu Delago plays the Hang – a percussion instrument that looks a bit like a flying saucer. Apparently they’re the only people in the world doing what they do, and they’ll be doing it at Sweet Grassmarket until 31 August. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of music, thanks very much to the cast of Blow Up: The Credit Crunch Musical (GRV, until 28 August), which features an Oompah band with a great sense of humour. They were kind enough to give me a CD of their music, The Oompire Strikes Back, which I’m listening to as I write this. Their Oompah take on Smells Like Teen Spirit is bloody brilliant.

I’m starting to get a bit peckish now, but before I head off to Piemaker on South Bridge for my nightly sausage roll, here are a few other shows I liked the sound of: serial killer thriller The Bone House (Underbelly, until 30 August), which Canada’s Globe and Mail reckons is even scarier than the Blair Witch Project; a production of Tennessee Williams’ Auto-Da-Fe, starring Scarlett Johansson’s old drama teacher Jeff Alan-Lee (The Space on the Mile, until 25 August); Token Yank, a multinational sketch comedy show (Speakeasy @ The Voodoo Rooms, until 15 August); and last but by no means least, Etty, a one-woman play adapted by from the diaries and letters of Etty Hillesum, a Dutch Jew sometimes described as an adult counterpart to Anne Frank. It’s taken Susan Stein several years to adapt Hillesum’s writings for the stage and all she wants to do now, she says, is bring the work of this remarkable woman to as many people as she can. Etty is at The Vault, just off George IV Bridge, until 31 August.

How not to get press coverage, by Janey Godley

Never assume journalists are pleased to hear your chirpy whiny voice on their answer machines begging for a few column inches. They hate having to deal with comics who are just ‘putting on a show’ - you really need to have a hook or be already famous.

Which makes it a big Catch 22 scenario - you won’t get press if you really aren’t in the press. No one wants to read about ‘I am doing comedy and no one knows me yet’ articles and no amount of paying some girl called Sophie from Chelsea £2000 who owns her new PR Company will help. These Sophies from Chelsea all have interchangeable heads and do sometimes get called Emma or Lucy by the way. They sweep into Edinburgh, get a hold of the press list (which is available to anyone), and sit down and send out press releases (like you can do) and wait for people to bite (much like you can do from your home, minus the £2000). Though maybe the posh accent helps?

I spoke to one journo lately and he told me he hates talking to comedy PRs as much as he despises trying to get comedians to make a ‘hook’ out their story. Yet again, they prefer to deal with already famous names as the public want to read about them. It can be hard this, I know.

Trying to get forward press for your show can be daunting when everyone wants to write about the latest big US comedy star coming over to grace our stages or the latest big UK name that is going back to his comedy roots. It can be heartbreaking but worthwhile in the long run. Persistence can pay off as long as it isn’t followed up with stalking and late night phone calls to the journalist’s home - he/she will plot your death.

You have to feel sorry for Fringe newspaper journalists, they get about three million emails and press releases just before August and often their email system can collapse under the sheer amount of attachments and documents battered mercilessly into their inbox.

So I am stuck between doing some press stunt like holding the First Minister Alex Salmond hostage in a basement near Leith, or setting fire to my own leg for attention, but am not sure anyone would care.

The best I can do is put on a good show and hope people like it and then the press start writing about you. Life is tough, and leg burns take ages to heal. Come see my show at the Pleasance Dome.

Janey Godley's show Godley's World is at the Pleasance Dome, 7pm, until 31 August.

Losing my festival virginity, by Wil Anderson

This year is my third visit to this amazing festival, but it seems a lifetime ago, way back in 1999, that I lost my Edinburgh virginity. And believe me, doing a show at The Fringe for the first time is a lot like “doing it” for the first time.

For starters, there is usually only one other person in the room. And much like the “first time” you are usually drunk, and quickly realise it’s nowhere near as easy as it looks in all those videos you watched on the internet.

I mean, sure, you are trying to make the other person feel as great as possible, but despite your various efforts most of the time your rhythm is completely out, and it’s awkward and disappointing.

There are whole routines that you blow prematurely and other jokes you can’t get up no matter how hard you try – although on the upside, if they just fake it you can’t tell the difference. (It certainly doesn’t help that the only two positions you are willing to try are mic in the stand, and mic out.)

In fact, looking back on it, the only real difference between my first festival show and the first time I made love was at my show they were paying me... Oh, and I did let my Mum and Dad come and watch my first show.

And Mum and Dad were about the only people who did come to the show. I was performing in a broom cupboard and I couldn’t even fill that.

On the opening night of my show Wilennium, only two people attended, and both were related to me, which meant there were technically taxi drivers bringing people to the venue who had bigger audiences than I did.

However, on the second night things really turned around for me when four people came to the show. Obviously the word was getting out there. The buzz was spreading. In fact, I thought, if I could have five tomorrow I would be outselling the cabbies. (Well except for those fancy ones with the maxi-taxis.)

Unfortunately it wasn’t to be, as I rocked up and was told I had no bookings at all and they were going to cancel the show. Oh well, you know what they say, if you only make one person laugh… you're probably doing a show at the Edinburgh Fringe.


Wil Anderson – Wilosophy is at Underbelly’s Pasture, 8:50pm, until 31 August.

What is my cat up to? By Shane Langan

Leaving Dublin for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, I find myself torn. I can’t quite get excited about my impending adventure. I live alone with Beetroot, my pet cat of three years and I know that I will find it difficult to enjoy my few weeks in Scotland knowing that he is at home in my flat alone.

I asked him if he’d like to come with me. There was room in the flat for him and I wouldn’t ask him to flyer or anything. He could just do his own thing during the day and then we could meet up after my show or something. If he thought that he’d feel left out or bored, then he’d be more than welcome to tech my show if he liked, bringing up the lights and keeping the microphone levels correct. I’d even give him a credit on my flyers. I just wanted him to be there, with me.

He refused to give me a straight answer at first, constantly putting off booking flights and changing the subject whenever I brought it up. Finally he told me that he wasn’t coming, that he had lost his passport and that he had too much work to do anyway.

But I now know this to be untrue. While doing the dishes I found his passport tucked away behind the cups, carefully hidden. And I know that he doesn’t have too much work to do because he’s a cat and doesn’t have a job. What has he got planned for while I’m away? Who does he plan to have over? I don’t think this is going to be a great month for me; I won’t be able to concentrate.

Shane Langan: Not Also, But Only is at the Gilded Balloon Teviot, 2pm, until 31 August.

Strangest show at the festival? By John Fleming

I’m no stranger to the bizarre and, indeed, as I’m producing the Malcolm Hardee Award Show on 28 August, I am keen to hear of any acts which involve chainsaw-juggling nuns.

However, even I was surprised when I was talking to Dan March at the Gilded Balloon launch party about his show Goldrunner. Not because of the pictures on the flyers of his startlingly clean-cut 17-year-old younger self on a 1991 edition of the TV series Blockbusters. But because a young and highly enthusiastic young performer thrust himself between us to plug his show at the Bongo Club.

“The audience is blindfold throughout,” he told us. “I am trying to bring to Britain the Argentinian tradition of blind theatre.” Any interest from TV companies? I asked. “Yes, yes,” he replied even more enthusiastically. “A British TV company is very interested and we have a group from the RNIB coming to see the show next week.”

I looked at Dan; Dan looked at me. After the young man had left, we looked at the ‘flyer’ he had given us: a brown luggage label with a Rorschach ink blot test image of Don Quixote, the words “Bongo 2pm” and nothing else. Dan and I felt the label with our fingers to find any further information in Braille. There was none. The young man had disappeared into the crowd.

I used to set up stunts for Jeremy Beadle. I looked around for hidden cameras. Later, I checked in the Fringe programme. And, sandwiched between Don Juan in Soho and Don’t Forget To Breathe, there was, indeed, Don Quixote – Theatre of the Blind with this description: “The audience is blindfolded throughout as we attempt to stage the unstageable. Official sell-out 2007”.

I was shocked I had missed it two years ago. I would like to see it this year but I fear, in the very nature of the show, I can only fail. The Fringe can be a hard mistress.

John Fleming is producer of Helen Keen: The Primitive Methodist Guide to Arctic Survival at Gilded Balloon Teviot, 12.45pm daily, and Aaaaaaaaaarrghhh! - It's Bollock Relief! - The Malcolm Hardee Award Show, 10pm on 28 August, also at the Gilded Balloon.

Behind the scenes at Gagarin Way

Since the recession hit, kidnapping your boss has become quite the thing. So what better time to revive Gregory Burke's 2001 play Gagarin Way, in which two Fife factory workers do exactly that? A few weeks ago we were lucky enough to get a behind-the-scenes peek at a new production of Burke's fiery four-hander, performed by the Comedians' Theatre Company. If.Comedy winner Phil Nichol and his team even let us do a spot of filming during rehearsals. To see the results, check out the clip above. To read more about the production, click here.

Why I love the Fringe, by Jarlath Regan

Jason Byrne once told me, "The festival is like Vietnam, you see some bad shit here." In my short time in Edinburgh I’ve seen a performer take "a revenge pee" on a heckler’s jacket, a comedian die so badly she cleared a room of 180 people in ten minutes, a man tell jokes to an audience of three in a room designed to seat a hundred and much more that can’t be printed. But equally I’ve seen some of the most uplifting things I will ever see at this festival.

This will be my fifth year performing in Edinburgh. Put simply, there is nowhere I would rather be during the month of August. I love the fact that the arts world descends on the city for 30 days and that for that period stand-up comedy is different. In Edinburgh stand-up feels like it matters to the world. It’s lifted from its low-lying place in the world’s artistic spectrum and placed above everything else. Everyone talks about it, every reporter writes about it, it seems like every single person in the city has tickets or is keen to get tickets for a show.

I love that in Edinburgh you can see just about any kind of comedy you can imagine: surrealist, absurdist, sketch, naked, acrobatic, old-school, new age, anti-comedy, standard observational, musical and more. Without looking too hard you can find crap versions of just about every type of comedy imaginable and sensational performances of comedy you never thought anyone could dream of.

In previous years I’ve gone to the Fringe and performed my show on a wing and a prayer: hoping it works out and shrugging my shoulders when it has not. This year is a little different. In October I’m getting married and for the first time it’s not just my future at stake. I’ve spent the past six months attempting to write the show and organise the wedding. It’s been a ridiculous juggling act to perform. It’s made me question everything and provided some thoroughly terrifying panic attacks along the way. But that to me is Edinburgh. It makes no sense, it reduces you to tears but there is no way in the world that you could live without it.

Jarlath Regan's show Man Of Very Little Mystery is at the Gilded Balloon Teviot, 4pm, until 31 August.

A typical day at the Fringe, by Jason Cook

Noon – wake up. Well, more sort of “fade in” to the world. Look at phone, see what I am late for.

1300 – run to interview/lunchtime show spot/meeting. Get lost on way and arrive late, covered in sweat, and completely unfocused. Most people at this time will think that my act consists of rambling nonsense, I have not fully woken up yet.

1400 – Flyer for a bit with the flyer team.

1500 – SHOWTIME! Now fully awake, time to do what I came here for and one of my favourite things in the world. An hour to myself with a wonderfully diverse and willing Fringe audience.

1630 – 1730 Berate myself for any tiny mistake I have made in the show. The audience will not have seen it, and even if they give you a standing ovation, the one bit you think you mucked up plays over and over again in your head. Meet Wife for dinner.

1732 – Wife puts everything into perspective. High chance of her both sighing and, indeed, rolling her eyes at this point.

1800 -1900 – After dinner snooze.

1900 - 2200 – Extra spots at compilation shows – see first drunk Fringe-goer asleep in the street.

2200 – 0100 – Late shows, wading in and out of throngs of drunken people, the booze making the gigs a bit more rough and tumble, but also meaning people are more prepared to join in and muck about.

0100 – 0400 – get back to flat, talk to other comics that I’m sharing with. Say “I’m going to bed” about eight times but keep getting dragged back into conversations.

0400 – Pass out.

Jason Cook: FEAR is at The Stand 3, 3:20pm, until 30 August (not 17th)

The Fringe on YouTube

Fringe performers will do almost anything to promote their shows, but to truly grab audiences’ attention these days you need to go online and viral, writes Jay Richardson. Here’s a selection of Fringe trailers for your delectation.



Reputedly costing £1500, Dan Antopolski’s Sandwich Rap has notched over 11,000 views on You Tube and features comedians Lucy Porter, Carl Donnelly, Tiernan Douieb, Tom Deacon and Nathan Caton.



Here's a brief flavour of Italian dance act Manolibera's shadow puppet comedy.



Sketch duo Mould and Arrowsmith are promoting Mould and Arrowsmith’s Inventions by inviting girls to call or text ‘flirt’ to Mould on his genuine mobile number.



The Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Theatre have composed this brilliant Beatles spoof Back in E.D.I.N.Braw.



Shitty Deal Puppet Theatre have made this typically lo-fi parody of the film Cloverfield to showcase Oh! What a Shitty War!



And Laura-Anne D – She Gave Her All For France! is an enigmatic tale of erotic intrigue. Featuring an onion and a baguette. And, in the clip above, dreadful lighting.

Welcome to the festival blog

From today until the end of August, the Scotsman's daily Arts Blog becomes the Festival Blog. We hope you like it.

We'll still be posting updates on this page on the rest of the newspaper's arts coverage, but since the festival dominates what we do in August (and rightly so, it's the biggest arts festival in the world and it's on our doorstep) our focus will be everything that's happening in the capital.

We'll have lots of people blogging for us, from our own critics to comedians and theatre performers from across the festival. Tell us what you think. And tell them what you think.

As you read this, we are putting the finishing touches to the Scotsman's first Festival magazine of 2009, which will hit the streets later tonight. We'll be publishing the best bits of this blog every day in the magazine.

Want to get in touch? Want to write for the blog? Email us at festivalblog@scotsman.com

Andrew Eaton, arts editor

Gangster Numero Un

French gangster thriller Mesrine: Killer Instinct hits cinemas today - and features a bravura star performance from Vincent Cassel - but to fully appreciate it you really need to see both parts of Jean Francois Richet's crime epic, says our critic Alistair Harkness.

Still, it's a much better movie bet this weekend than the dreadful GI Joe: Rise of the Cobra and The Ugly Truth.

Jazz Expo award for Tommy

EVER the suave sartorialist, saxophonist Tommy Smith apologised for wearing what he called “a teacher’s jacket” when he took the stage at The Hub in Edinburgh on Wednesday night to be presented with the 2009 Scottish Jazz Expo Award for services to jazz.

The musician, composer and educator was sporting the tweed jacket, he explained, because he had spent the day in a basement in the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, for a final assessment of Scotland’s first full time conservatoire level jazz course, which is scheduled to open at the RSAMD in the autumn, and which Smith will lead. “It passed,” he declared, adding that he was accepting the Jazz expo Award on behalf of the many other Scottish jazz musicians he’d played with and who had devoted so much time to jazz education.

Scottish Jazz Expo is a government-funded initiative promoting Scottish jazz during the Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival, which runs until Sunday and which, according to its chairman, Brian Fallon, has been chalking up some of its best box office returns in its 31-year history.

Meanwhile Lord Provost George Grubb reminisced about Edinburgh’s pre-festival jazz days, which in the late Fifties which focussed round the city’s once famous, or infamous, West End Café in Shandwick Place, which had the temerity, as Grubb recalled, to stage “bands and music on the Sabbath", with the likes of Sandy Brown and Al Fairweather letting rip.

For further details click here

The Edinburgh Festival is go!

Brace yourselves.

In just a few hours from now, this blog will become the Scotsman's Edinburgh Festivals blog. Instead of a slow trickle of daily online content, there will be a torrent of blogging, not just from us but from dozens of performers from right across the Edinburgh Festivals.

The launch of the blog will coincide, roughly, with our first daily Festival magazine, on Saturday - 24 pages of interviews, previews, listings and recommendations from our top team of critics.

Meanwhile, here's the latest from the Scotsman's pre-festival arts coverage...

How can the Edinburgh International Festival be staging an opera by Bach, when the composer never wrote any? Kenneth Walton tells the fascinating story behind Actus Tragicus.

Want to know where to find the best jazz and folk music on the Fringe? Jim Gilchrist can tell you in his weekly column.

And finally, find out what happened when Bethany Black - probably the Fringe's only transsexual, goth stand-up comic - did a warm up show in our critic Jay Richardson's Glasgow flat.

The legacy of Eva

Eva Hesse died in 1970, aged 34, but her remarkable work - and a life story that took in a childhood escape from the Nazis, and the suicide of her mother when Eva was only ten years old - has inspired generations of artists.

On today's arts pages, Susan Mansfield talks to Hesse's sister Helen, Briony Fer (curator of the new Eva Hesse show at the Fruitmarket in Edinburgh), and artists Claire Barclay, Sara Barker and Sam Ainsley about Hesse's life and legacy. Read Susan's feature online here.

Duncan Macmillan is also dipping his toes into the Edinburgh Art Festival today, reviewing Peter Blake's exhibition at Edinburgh Printmakers, and Remembering Little Sparta at Edinburgh College of Art.

Naboland: The Movie

If imagination is the mark of a great artist, then Reinhard Behrens is in a class of his own. For more than three decades now, the German-born, Fife-based painter has been documenting the adventures of a plucky, cartoonish submariner as he explores a strange, parallel world called Naboland. Inspired by a toy submarine Behrens found washed up on a beach in the 1970s, this unflappable little hero has so far explored deserts, arctic wastes, exotic eastern civilisations and even a city that bears a striking resemblance to Venice. If you look very closely at the some of the great paintings of Flemish art history, you might find him there, too.

Every August, as part of the Pittenweem Arts Festival, images of the submariner’s latest adventures, along with artefacts he has collected on his travels, go on display in Behrens’s home. Those in the know often travel great distances to catch up on these latest dispatches from Naboland, presented with all the seriousness and attention to detail you would expect to find in a real anthropological museum.

Until now, it has only been possible to see still pictures of Naboland and its inhabitants, but this year marks the launch of the Naboland Film Fund, which Behrens hopes will allow moving pictures of this parallel universe to be shown to the public for the first time. A brief taste of what the project might look like is available here, courtesy of the artist. To contribute to the Naboland Film Fund, visit http://www.naboland.co.uk/.

Behrens is just one of more than 150 artists exhibiting at Pittenweem this year. Selecting highlights at such a huge event is never easy, but if you’re planning to make the journey to the East Neuk, there are a few real must-sees.
Local fisherman-turned-artist More Horsburgh, who died last year at the age of 81, has been given pride of place at the Old Town Hall.

In the build-up to the festival, much was made of the attention to detail in his nautical paintings, but nothing can prepare you for the incredible depth of field he was able to conjure up. In the case of one hyper-real canvas, it is possible to look past the boat in the foreground – the main focus of the image – to a number of cargo ships being unloaded at the quayside behind; then through the intricately rendered rigging of these boats to the street, where men are carrying barrels towards the town; and then past these workers to groups of tiny black-clad figures going about their business in the far, far distance. Not even the most hi-tech camera on the market, in the hands of the world’s most skilled photographer, could create such a vivid, multi-layered tableau.

Down the road at the Art Extraordinary Gallery, meanwhile, curator Joyce Laing has scored a major coup by landing a group of small paintings by Alan Davie, one of Scotland’s most revered living artists. There is also a tapestry by Davie here – a reminder that a much larger show of his work is about to go on show at the Dovecot studios in Edinburgh, as part of the Edinburgh Art Festival (a relative baby compared to Pittenweem, with just 48 exhibitions).

The Art Extraordinary Gallery specialises in showing work by people operating outside the art establishment – also known as Outsider Art and Art Brut – and often these artists have suffered a mental illness of some kind. One such is the musician Gordon Anderson, formerly of the Beta Band, who has been exhibiting on and off at the Art Extraordinary Gallery for some time now.

His main contribution to this year’s group show is a monumental merz construction that occupies the best part of an entire wall and spills over onto the floor. Nightmarish, bug eyed creatures stare out from a sea of assorted bric-a-brac and seem to mesmerise anyone who walks through the gallery door.

Inevitably perhaps, an installation by invited artist Masahiro Kawanaka, from Japan, has drawn some snide comments along the lines of “that’s not art,” but these critics clearly haven’t spent enough time with it. Made up of hundreds of strips of audio tape suspended across a 20 foot gap in somebody’s garage, Reflection comes alive every time the wind blows through it, making a eerie, swishing sound and creating an unsettling optical illusion to boot.

If there was top seller award at Pittenweem, it would almost certainly go to multimedia artist Ian Ledward – his striking works, part painting, part digitally manipulated photograph, were besieged by red dots after just 24 hours on show. Elsewhere, both Lynn McGregor and Carol Paterson create semi-abstract landscapes with a pleasing rhythm to them; McGregor’s are more painterly, Paterson’s more precise.

And speaking of rhythm, George Finley’s exhibition of the same name is well worth a look: the things he’s able to do with a glue gun are truly astounding, although his groups of dancers and musicians, all made with a single, continuous line, must have left him with huge piles of sticky out-takes.

At Kellie Lodging, next door to the Art Extraordinary Gallery, Marj Bond continues her ongoing exploration of intuitive mark-making. In common with Alan Davie, she finds that many of the “glyphs” that crop up in her work, drawn directly from her subconscious, are also to be found in the written languages of ancient cultures.

The most satisfying work in her one woman show, however, is entirely glyph-free – a small, sombre painting of a mother and child, the two figures flowing pleasingly into each other. It’s much more downbeat than Finley’s energetic glue-gun extravaganzas across the road, but it feels as if it, too, could have been produced using one continuous line.

The festival continues until 9 August. For more information, visit http://www.pittenweemartsfestival.co.uk/

Jazz fest off to a flyer

In today's Scotsman, our jazz critic Kenny Mathieson reports from the opening weekend of the Edinburgh Jazz and Blues Festival, while David Pollock travels to Perth to watch Los Lobos and Booker T open the Southern Fried Festival.

Elsewhere, Fiona Shepherd hails James Yorkston's new album - a collection of traditional folk songs performed in his trademark melancholy style - and our world music critic Michael Church is blown away by Frozen Roses, a five star disc from veteran Bosnian singer Ljiljana Buttler.