In my previous reflections on the Edinburgh Fringe 2022, I looked at
the trepidation felt by many about the Fringe and then at
stand-up comedy. In this piece, I look at one of Edinburgh's key cultural hubs, Summerhall.
Standing proudly at the east end of the Meadows, the Summerhall building draws people towards it. Catherine Cruft's
Edinburgh Old & New outlines that Summerhall was a small village in the 18th century. The remaining jumble of buildings were demolished in 1912/13 to make way for the Royal Dick Veterinary College. Since the buildings were acquired from Edinburgh University in 2011, Summerhall has developed into a key venue for art and performance in the city. During the festival it hums with activity, its corridors and spaces flowing with artists, performers and 'festival goers'.
Approaching Summerhall from the Meadows requires crossing a busy junction. As you stand waiting for the lights to change (often for several minutes as they seem to take an age to turn green) you have time to reflect on the near miss this area had. This would have been a far more dramatic change than what occurred in 1912/13. The Inner City Ring Road, proposed in the 1960s, would have whistled through the Meadows before hurtling through this area, careering towards the Pleasance and slicing its way through the Old Town at St Mary's Street. It would have profoundly changed the area and perhaps threatened the Summerhall building. At best, the Summerhall would have suffered the fate of the Mitchell Library in Glasgow; standing elegantly over the brutal chasm that the Charing Cross area became.
Keeping the festival spirit alive
For its director Robert McDowell, Summerhall's mission is to preserve and spread the spirit of the Edinburgh Festival and Fringe. The building currently houses a large part of
Richard Demarco's vast archive and it's his spirit of this 'gesamtkunstwerk' which Summerhall hopes to manifest.
The partnership between McDowell and Demarco has spanned various projects since 1980. Hosting an 'impromptu' event relating to the Demarco Archive, McDowell related that Demarco's vision of the 'true Fringe' was an animating influence behind Summerhall. This vision, focused on the visual arts, contrasts sharply with the highly commercial contemporary version, inundated with stand-up comedy. Summerhall was set up as something of a mithrilite to that by hosting varied (music, theatre, film, visual arts) and ground-breaking work.
For McDowell, Summerhall is a place where 'festival addicts' can 'shoot up' all year round; culture coursing through their veins for 12-months, not just one. This relates to Demarco's feeling of gloom and despondency every autumn when 'the circus' left town, and Edinburgh returned to being a 'dreich and grey place', shorn of the 'spirit of internationalism'. This was what led him to set up the Traverse Theatre and Demarco now sees a similar spirit pervading Summerhall. It is part of the festival's continuing cultural legacy for Edinburgh.
Demarco complained to McDowell that the visual arts, which had been important to the Fringe's renown, have been marginalised or ignored. Visual arts still retain a significant place within Summerhall. This is especially true in the corridors, where artwork is omnipresent. Tucked away in various rooms, visitors can find interesting exhibitions. Diana Zwibach's
No Callback focuses on the way that past projects can be reused through creative reconstruction. The exhibition articulates a mental breakdown through art: the catharsis of destruction and the new clarity this provides to reimagine the potential of that debris.
There are many examples of creative reuse on display in Edinburgh this year, with the Pianodrome (currently at the old High School) a particularly noteworthy effort. McDowell believes that a key aspect of the arts is 'to see value in what otherwise is foolishly ignored, discarded or wasted'. Creative reuse is manifested in Summerhall itself. It's a building which has been successfully repurposed; from education to culture, reflecting the strong thread which connects the two. It illustrates the importance of not imposing artificial boundaries between different facets of human exploration.
Summerhall is an example of an old building being reused for a new purpose. Buildings that have been repurposed often retain only their exterior character. Interiors are often remodelled and lose their traditional form. Summerhall makes use of existing rooms rather than transforming them. The Red Lecture Theatre, for instance, has a wonderful 1960's aesthetic of wood and red formica. It retains its educational resonances. The German audience members behind us were delighted by this; it took them back to school days. 'Have you done your homework?' one appeared to ask the other in jest. There is a seriousness embedded in such spaces; there is more to the performances than entertainment.
Algorithmic art
Post-classical composer, pianist and 'creative coder', Larkhall's
Piano and Creative Coding, filled this space with his dreamy, melodic and often rhythmic sounds. Tracks such as
In My Mind Are All the Tides typified the rich soundscapes he produced. The mesmeric moving images which accompany the music are produced algorithmically creating intertwined sound and shape. At first, it appeared that the effect was produced by incredibly precise matching of video with the piano playing. Only after a couple of tracks did Larkhall pause to explain that the visuals react in real time to the pieces of the score he is playing. In short, the music drives the visuals. His work demonstrates that, as well as surveilling us, 'algorithms can make art'.
Technical problems derailed the performance for a time, causing great frustration for the performer. As he fiddled, uncertainty filled the room ('what are you all whispering about?'). The frustration only fuelled Larkhall's playing, making the melodies stronger.
The variety of performances is a major reason to dip into Summerhall's programme. In 2019, I witnessed interesting and varied performances here. These included
Neither Here Nor There by Jo Fong/Sonia Hughes, a discursive event in which the attendees were encouraged to share experiences. As a social experiment, it demonstrated the deep levels of communality and shared experiences.
My Name is Irrelevant (Matthew Hall) used evocative vintage slides and atmospheric post-rock guitar to weave their tales. It made the audience think of ways in which we all close ourselves off from reality through social media and seek the 'comfort of familiarity'. More recently,
James Yorkston played a charming gig in the Dissection Room, another of Summerhall's evocative performances spaces.
During the Fringe, Summerhall makes use of spaces within the neighbouring TechCube.
My Voice Was Heard But It Was Ignored characterises the challenging and radical work hosted by Summerhall. The very simple set helped focus our attention on the two performers. The story begins with the deep anger of a school pupil who was abused by the police. He directs this fury at his teacher, who witnessed the event but failed to intervene.
After a slightly shaky start, the two actors were soon into full flow. The intensity rose as they each adroitly inhabited a variety of roles. What eventually emerged from the vicious verbal grenades they threw at each other was the deep bond that existed between them. Their lives and experiences were deeply intertwined. The emerging awareness of this leads to a cathartic if still uneasy conclusion. The wholehearted applause which rang out was clearly merited. As the applause died down, there was a real stillness in the room as the audience absorbed this tale of racial injustice and its ongoing relevance.
Ambisonic alleviation
Intense performances such as this often necessitate a time to reflect and absorb. The reflective character of
DÝRA (by SHHE) provided a calming balm after this and a day battling through the crowds in the Old Town and into its dank venues. It felt like a respite from the festival frenzy above our heads, including for the members of the Summerhall staff who attended. In the basement area, there was a great sense of quietness and stillness. The ambisonic and hydrophone recordings evoked visions of quiet open places, far from urban hustle. A much needed timeout, away from voices and screens. That space was quite rightly off limits to phones. This was a slight issue for the staff members ('only interrupt if there's a major emergency... If the place is on fire').
Considering the fire that recently destroyed the fish and chip shop near Summerhall, this was not such a joke. From where I work, I could see the raging fire through my window, fire engines rapidly inundating Causewayside. Initially, it seemed as if the smoke might be coming from Summerhall itself; my mind was flooded with images from
Fahrenheit 451 and violent cultural destruction. In light of the vast and wondrous Demarco Archive as well as the building itself, that would be a cultural catastrophe.
Serendipity lurks in every corridor
Not that the building has been universally loved. It was dismissed by the authors of the 'Pevsner' guide (
The Buildings of Scotland, 1984) as having a front composed of a 'dreary frame of columns and pediments' and with a 'pompous stair-hall' which was 'an epitome of bourgeois smugness'. Similarly, some consider Summerhall self-consciously 'arty'; one of the staff members I saw roller-skating through the foyer did bring up Nathan Barley clichés regarding 'creatives'. People should not be deterred from pushing through the heavy wooden front doors because of such preconceived notions. Inside they will find an eclectic mix of culture. On each visit, I discover new areas and new possibilities; serendipity lurks in every corridor.
As with so many institutions, Summerhall was put in a 'devastating' financial position by the Covid-19 lockdowns. A crowdfunder helped ease the position and keep Summerhall afloat. During this Fringe it has once again teamed with activity, with its refreshed cafe a popular resting point. As I sat in the lobby one afternoon, I witnessed great waves arriving, engulfing the box office, and flowing through into the building. Intermingled with the throngs were performers rushing to their shows and energetic staff members fully occupied. Given its energy and creative vigour, the festival spirit will surely endure at Summerhall.
Charlie Ellis is a researcher and EFL teacher based in Edinburgh
