Am I Fringing this year?

Well, my Fringe performance was quite a hectic and crazy experience! It was my first ever Fringe performance, and let’s just say I was a little unprepared for all the things I’d have to consider and would experience. So, am I going in it again next year? Let’s just look at some of the things that happened during my first Fringe experience.

Firstly, there was the weather! As if it’s not bad enough trying to perform and actively promote my show during 35-40 degree days, couple this with the fact that the costume I wear for my storytelling performances includes thick pants, a large, billowy shirt, felt vest, long wizard cloak and rubber dragon foot! Definitely not the ideal attire to be wearing during the middle of an Adelaide heat wave! I guess a real wizard would have had some sort of spell to keep himself cool! On top of that, the venue itself – a small canvas tent seating some 60 people when full – only made the heat more unbearable! But, you’re probably thinking, surely the venue had adequate air conditioning, right? Surely they accounted for the Adelaide summer, right? Wrong! The extent of their air conditioning was two small pedestal fans that were perched alongside the stage and did almost nothing to help the heat, creating a constant wall of perspiration and body odour to spring up in the venue. In all fairness, it did add a little bit of ambience to the performance – who knew that I would be performing my first Fringe show in the Amazon Rainforest?! And it looks like this year is going to be worse…

Then come the dangers with promoting the show itself… Call me crazy (as well you should!), but if I’m going to be attending a Fringe cocktail party, or walking around the streets, or anything else for that matter, I want to spend as much time as possible in costume. Even if people haven’t seen my performances, I’d like them to at least remember seeing me around when they see my flyers, “Oh, that guy! Let’s go check him out!” Besides, you never know when some fancy-pants promoter is going to walk past, inquire about the costume, and then offer me an awesome deal touring all throughout the known (and unknown) world! Okay, maybe the odds of that are pretty slim, but one can dream – I am a storyteller after all! Of course, this all sounds well and good if the events I’m at are fairly civilised affairs but, like I said, I try to do *everything* in costume, where possible. Or, at least the things I can do in public – so, no, I don’t wear my costume when doing the housework! This, however, creates an interesting dilemma when I have chosen to go in costume to a Fringe dance party, or to somewhere like Barrio, where there is a commando-style obstacle course of countless drunken dancers gyrating about the place, throwing their glasses in the air at the music, trying to pull at my cloak while slurring how awesome the costume is. I’m a very easily amused person, and normally I’d laugh at such antics, however amusement definitely wasn’t what I was feeling then! A more correct word would be terror! This is my only costume! This image is plastered all over my flyers! What if it gets torn? What if it gets beer or, worse yet, red wine spilled all over it? Whatever will I do? AAARRGH!!!

However, there were other events during The Fringe season that stood out equally, but for different reasons. For example, coming from the parade and being stopped by a mum asking if I was OneShoe. When I said yes, she told me that her son had seen one of my Book Week performances the year before and he’s really excited to see my show! Or there was the other time one of the six year old children from the vacation care that I work at attended my final performance. He sat in the front row and just as my last story was starting he raised his hand. Of course, I couldn’t stop part way through the story, so I just carried on, and he kept his hand up for the entire ten minutes, alternately raising one hand and then the other as they got sore! Eventually his dad asked him to lower his hand, but I made sure I approached him after the show and asked what his question was. A big grin on his face, he responded, “Hi Milan!” What a treasure! Or, after two shows that were about half-full, there was the sense of achievement I felt when my final show was fully booked out – and people were even being turned away at the door! Or finally, there was the time when two young ladies stopped me in the Garden of Unearthly Delights and one of them said, “I love your shows! You’re amazing!” “Why, thank you!” I said. “Tell us a joke!” the first one said again and, turning to her friend and pointing to my dragon foot, exclaimed “This is Piff the Magic Dragon!” I’m not Piff… Damn

So, to answer the previous question, am I going in the Fringe again next year? You bet your booty I am!!

I am a performer and, more than that, I am a storyteller. This is who I am! Where would we be without a story?!