Review: Veronica Britton: Chronic Detective – N.P. Boyce

It took me many years to learn patience. Despite my decidedly calm current demeanour, I definitely had a temper-dappled childhood. One such instance, or series of instances as I never learned, was my relationship with Where’s Wally. These densely packed and intricately drawn megapictures were a constant torment for my prepubescent self. What should have been a simple activity, that of locating the titular striped nomad, became an exercise in frustration. This was not because I couldn’t locate Wally, but because I would stumble upon so many other characters and situations that were infinitely more interesting. Why should I bother with a bobble-hatted tourist when there’s a wizard bouncing on a trampoline – oh wait what’s that? An alien with a – and that – and that – and that!?

My childhood self was dissatisfied with the task given to him when there countless other astonishing stories I would rather follow. I realise now that I was probably overstimulated and overtired. Regardless, it was an issue I felt strongly about. This is the very same hang-up I have with Veronica Britton: Chronic Detective. There is just so much going on!

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Review: Holophin by Luke Kennard

Behind the frenzied story of cyberindustrial espionage, Holophin reads as a warning. Our wants and needs from technology haven’t changed, but the technology itself has grown far beyond our current handsets and tablets. The Holophin is a microcomputer in the guise of a tiny dolphin shaped sticker. Once attached to the person, the Holophin, equipped with its own personality, links directly into the mind. The protagonists are free to alter their perception of day-to-day life, enhance memories and install experimental software straight to their brain. But what seems to be a step towards evolution as a species soon becomes a nightmarish sprint through shifting realities and clues disguised as memories disguised as fairytales.

Edinburgh Review: The Most Dangerous Toy – Playades

The Most Dangerous Toy
Review by Felix Trench

In the early 1880s, the 21 year old Louise von Salomé arrived in Rome. Here she would meet two men: the author Paul Rée, with whom she formed a relationship, and his friend Friedrich Nietzsche.

Edinburgh Review: Phil Mann’s Full Mind

Fans of QI, Answer Me This!, and all things ‘funny and a bit clever’ will love Phil Mann’s Full Mind. Each and every day of the festival, Mann is given a topic on which he has to give a talk and that audience then chooses the topic for the next talk. Simple. The clever bit is Mann’s ability to take the most obscure of subjects, break them down and, with the most precise of comic timing, deliver them to an audience in a way that is not only entertaining, but also a little educational too.

Edinburgh Review: Comedian Dies in the Middle of a Joke – Ross Sutherland

More from our Edinburgh Ones to Watch series. Annexe Editor Nick Murray reviews Comedian Dies in the Middle of a Joke.

The Edinburgh Fringe has become renowned for theatre companies taking experimental and interactive performances and casting them at an unsuspecting audience. They can be interesting and inventive, or they can be an ever-stretching hour of self indulgence. Whether that kind of thing is your cup of tea or not is up to you. However, finally a show is coming to Edinburgh, crossing the boundaries of interactive theatre, spoken word and performance that feels genuine while also trying something really new.

Edinburgh Review: Who’s Dorian Gray? – Empty Photo Theatre

With the Edinburgh Festival starting imminently, theatre companies are flocking northward to present their latest performative offerings. Dozens of venues and hundreds of shows means that there will be rather a lot for the discerning audience member to sift through. To help in the hunt, we will be presenting a series of ‘One’s to Watch’. First, we have Who’s Dorian Gray? from Empty Photo Theatre.

Who’s Dorian Gray?
Review by Pauline Stobbs

Ah, the world of flat sharing. Whether it’s trying to create some sort of livable co-existence with the weirdo across the hall or witnessing your best friend transform into a washing-up tyrant, modern day living arrangements can be a heinous battleground.

Review: Journeys Through Urban Britain

As part of the Writing Britain exhibition, The British Library hosted a talk considering the decline of Britain’s urban landscape. Alexander Mee joined the discussion. Read his review after the jump.

On a train back to London looking at the rushing green fields under a Parma violet and orange sherbet sky, I’m considering the political and social importance of construction, the merits of gentrification and the inadvisability of ever purchasing food from First Great Western. Most of all I’m pondering the few hours I just spent in Bath.

Review: Doris Day Can F__k Off

What happens when one man decides to sing instead of speak for two whole months? Greg McLaren found out.

Review: Theatre Breaks

Pauline Stobbs delves into a night of new theatre from Tiny Dog Productions.

It was a sunny evening in Forest Hill, a lot further south of the river than I usually go, when I was led into the basement of a pub. The reason? To see six plays of new writing each lasting no more than twenty minutes. 

I had my concerns that six back-to-back plays by writers I’d never heard of could feel relentless. However Theatre Breaks offers a winning format. Run by Tiny Dog productions, a multi-disciplinary theatre company based in London, the festival is designed to be a platform for new work, and often the first chance for writers and directors to gauge the audience’s reaction. Having six plays offers a diverse programme of themes and styles, and most audiences are fair enough to gamble twenty minutes of time for the benefit. And there were some real winners in the night’s performances.

In Numbers – a review

In Numbers: Serial Publications By Artists Since 1955
ICA 25/01 – 25/03

It is often hard to tell whether the curators at the ICA have a sense of humour. I like to think that this exhibition illustrates that they do have a little laugh at themselves every once in a while. Or at least I hope that they at least see the irony that they have inadvertently created.