Yester-morn I went to another art gallery, this time a modern art one. Those of you who know me somewhat probably know that I don't care much for most modern art. Not all, there's some that I really enjoy and would like to own, maybe in order to scare small children (why is modern art always so dark and morbid?) Well, if it isn't dark, then usually its quite derivative. I know a series of four white canvas's are suppose to convey purity and simplicity, but its not going to catch the average viewers attention or move them. No, no, it just comes off as pretentious and not worth while. Well, rant aside, you should know that I did enjoy viewing the artwork there, I just didn't spend a couple hours like I did at the other, more masterfully artistic gallery.
Afterwards I went to a show called "Penelope," and it is certainly the best show I've seen here (I did research this time to find one of the better shows in town). It's an Irish play about four suitors of Penelope set in modern times. Penelope is Greek myth is the wife of Odysseus who waits for him to return home after many years while many suitors compete for her. These four are the last ones left, but they all had the same dream of Penelope's husband returning and brutally maiming them (as the myth goes). The four may (or may not) join forces in the effort to have one of them win in order to not die. But they all love her, and they start to feel the pain of all the years wasted trying to woo her. The play knew when to be funny when it wanted to, but also to be sincerely heart-rending with some damn good writing. So good, I bought the script and am reading through it. The playwright (Enda Walsh) is apparently on the rise. This is what the Irish lady sitting next to me was telling me about. I think she knew him or something, I don't quite remember what she said. Had a good conversation with her. Anyways, she told me that the writing in the play is brilliant not just for the dialogue, but the stage direction as well. She's quite right, the playwright knew exactly what he wanted at all times, and goes into great detail in the direction (which playwrights don't often do). Everything was so pin-pointed and strongly directed that it felt like every movement had a great significance.
That night I went out to an open session with an American couple and a Swiss pair (brother and sister) I met at the hostel. An open session is when there's music playing in a pub, but not for professional reasons. Usually there with be a leader or sorts, this time an older gent on the fiddle who brought a stand-up bass with him. The "designated" musicians typically bring instruments, but they'll give up their spot for a stranger to play (I believe the only expectation is that you know what you're doing). Now I know what you're thinking--this isn't a bunch of hippies getting together to strum like at Lewis & Clark, these guys are good and very adaptable! (not that you're not good Zach, but some guitars and bongos aren't as complex as some fiddles, flutes, bass, etc.) For the most part they played traditional folk music, but they played some American folk as well (this one Australian joined in to sing something about Tennessee whiskey with his buddy back-up vocalizing). Anyways, you have this table of random musicians in a tiny (and I mean tiny) corner pub stuffed with people, just grab some beer and whisky, and you'll easily start to feel in good company.
Today was the last day of the fringe, and after seeing the wonderful "Penelope," I opted for something less dramatic. This was "Next!" Basically it was a very small, intimate show about this woman directly talking to the audience about her experiences being rejected in the acting world. She's one of those actresses that only gets small, forgettable parts on the 'tele' or film and must go through the the harsh process of auditioning every day. Her stories are quite funny in a sad way, because haven't we all been there, not amounting to what we've hoped for but continue to strive on?
Other than that, I just kind of wondered around today and sat in a whisky bar. I went to this rather swanky (in appearance) place that had a huge selection of Scotch whiskies. It was a store/restaurant/bar. There I saw a 50 year bottle for only 7500 pounds! Anyways, I sat at the bar and started to talk to the bar-tender about whisky, and he was quite the guru. Well, I imagine all Scotsman are Whisky wise men or sages. I tasted about three whiskies for only around 10 pounds! This is good stuff mind you, in the states it would be 7 bucks for one (and I'm talking Bourbon here, not imported stuff. And Johnnie Walker isn't this quality either!) It's much more accessible to taste whisky here, they sell little bottles as well! So I was tasting while he taught me about the types, what peated is, regions and so on. I enjoyed all three, but the Edradour (one of the smaller distilleries in Scotland actually) was my favorite, but the Belhavie was good as well. I finished off with the heavily peated one (I forget the name). The more peated the smokier the taste. This Whisky was like liquid bonfire. I enjoyed it a lot actually, but I would prefer it not to be so forest fiery. Anyways, more useless facts. Scotch whisky is usually marketed after 10 years (if it doesn't say the age, then it's less), and the sage told me it definitely makes a difference in taste for the older, expensive whiskies (but he admits that for the price it may not be worth it, but it's a once in a lifetime thing you must do if you like whisky, and it is amazing (he told me about nirvana being acheived after tasting a 60+ year old one (just kidding, but he is quite wisened). Anyways, expect me to come back a whisky snob.
Overall, I'm very glad I left early for the fringe. Edinburgh is a wonderful, beautiful city, but I'm just about ready to see the Scotland everyone thinks off -- the country side. I've had some good conversations, some of them with Scottish people, but for the most part it was with various types of peoples. Germans, Swiss, Aussies, and so on. It's just too touristy to really get the sense of Scotland. That's why this morning, trying to figure out what to do with the next couple days, I've decided to head up north for three nights in Inverness, the curtural capital of the highlands. It will still be touristy I'm sure, but it will be a great change of pace from the fringe. It'll be a four hour train ride through the mountains, which will certainly be magnificient.
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