With less than three weeks until the start of the next Fringe (and, for the first time in an odd-year, Festival) season, I’ve finally finished writing about the shows I saw in 2012’s season.
One-hundred-and-fifty-five shows. Thirteen in a weird, patchy kind of Festival, and one-hundred-and-forty-two Fringe performances. And that’s not counting the extra Rhino Room Late Shows, the repeated viewings of The Fastest Train To Anywhere, or Tomás Ford’s impromptu Massive Fucking Party. There was lots of chatting to be had – bless the Fringe Club and Barrio – and friends made, re-discovered, and (unfortunately) lost.
But most of all, I got to spend the best part of five weeks drinking heavily from the Art that others make. I love seeing what creative people can conjure out of their imaginations; I love watching the reactions of the audience, wondering whether that particular moment is going to be the inspiration for something amazing in the future.
That’s why I do what I do, as worthless as it may seem. After all, these posts are just memories – fragments of the experience that I want to remember – that really should have no significance to anyone other than me.
But, right now, there’s an untouched Fringe Guide that I must investigate: circling shows of interest, starring the “important” ones, transferring their information into a spreadsheet, and starting the delicious task of planning. The Festival shows have already (mostly) been locked in, so that’s a start… but I doubt it’s going to be anywhere near as big a year as 2012.
I’ll see. That is, after all, what I do :)