Editorial

Arusa Qureshi

It’s near-impossible to think of a clever or succinct way to sum up the past two years, so I won’t try. Instead, I’ll defer to our cover star Jinkx Monsoon, who mused during our conversation: “Maybe we were all getting to a place where we were taking certain things for granted.”

Looking back at August 2019 – the year of the last Edinburgh Festivalsproper – I think I might have been taking things for granted. As someone born and bred in this city, the Fringe and the wider Edinburgh Festivals have always been a constant in my life but their absence the following year was strange; a feeling mirrored more widely by loss – of culture, events, jobs and even people.

This issue holds a great deal of meaning for the team, not just as our official welcome back to the Edinburgh Festivals in this 75th anniversary year, but also as a celebration of 20 years of Fest. I’m honoured to be part of the team for the first time, and to be following in the footsteps of former editor Evan Beswick. Obviously, we couldn’t just let him leave without a proper goodbye so we asked Evan to pen a love letter of sorts to this little magazine, where he recounts the good, the bad and the weird along the way.

We’re also extremely grateful to our designers Phoebe and Dalila for their mammoth efforts in redesigning

Fest. What you’re holding in your hands right now is Fest 2.0 – doesn’t it look amazing?!

Elsewhere in this preview issue, we catch up with Garry Starr about his new Greek mythology-inspired extravaganza and we also interrogate discussions around mental health and stand-up with Rich Hardisty, Sikisa and Chelsea Birkby.

David Keenan, author of This Is Memorial Device, gives us a run down on the new Fringe and Book Festival adaptation of his cult-classic about “the best band you’ve never heard of”. And we meet Seattle actor and playwright Justin Huertas, who’s bringing his pop rock musical Lizard Boy to the UK for the first time.

In conversations with clarinettist Sharon Kam, musician and composer Anna Meredith and choreographer Farah Saleh, we find out more about highlights across the International Festival. Plus, we delve into site-specific theatre, puppetry for kids, bombastic cabaret and so much more.

Since 2019, a lot has happened and so many of us have experienced every emotion under the sun, ranging from waves of sadness through to huge bursts of joy. But against all odds, we’re back and we’re collectively ready to celebrate.

In the words of the great Beyonce, “I can’t believe we made it, have you ever seen the crowd goin’ apeshit?”

Meet the Team

We asked: What’s your weirdest Fringe experience?

“Shared a hot tub with a comedian, only to discover I’d be reviewing them later.”

“Betty Grumble gifting me a personalised print of her vagina.”

“Being punched in the stomach while leaving a Daniel Kitson show.”

“The existential crisis that comes as a Glaswegian when realising Edinburgh isn’t actually that bad.”

“I drank a thousand beers and turned into a Fringe.”

“Red Bastard chasing some old ladies around a free BBC showcase. Truly, he didn’t need to go that hard.”

“Street magician somehow guessing what song I was listening to in my earphones. Still don’t know how he did it.”

“I attended a press conference hosted by Basil Brush. You could clearly see his sad puppeteer squatting below the table.”

“Sitting on a cushion on the floor in one of the Pleasance Courtyard breakout areas, drinking a hip flask of Disaronno with two elderly gentlemen.”

“When I was 12 going to see a play about a mole investigating who left their 'business' on his head.”

“I chose Beowulf because I thought it would have dragons. It was a 3-hour, 1-man reading in Old English. I was 11.”