The Last Laugh, Storytelling Centre

They say you should never date a comedian.  Written by, and starring, local stand up comedian Keir McAllister, this is the tale of Eddie and Grace whose careers, and love life, briefly coincide when he is on the way down, she on the climb.  Eddie has seen it all, and thinks he knows it all too.  His approach to his work has become cynical and increasingly self centred, and he's happy to manipulate anyone that can help him advance his career - especially women.  So what happens when he's getting treated the same way?

Very much a comedy insiders view of the industry, it covers sexism, feminism, the gap between sex and love, and just how badly some comedians behave in real life.  In the Q&A that followed the show McAllister said that much of the material came from observing many of his colleagues, and there is a sense of voyeurism throughout.  The show is a curious mix of monologue, dialogue, stand up and an introductory talking heads video.  Sometimes it doesn't quite gel together, but those moments pass quickly and there are enough laughs, and a script sufficiently thought provoking, for this to be a minor distraction.

McAllister is always engaging and competent.  Larah Bross as Grace gets to deliver many of the best lines and produces a strong and very watchable performance.  The play works best in the scenes where the two of them interact, with much verbal sparring, and a real sense of miscommunication.  This comedy takes a detached yet knowledgeable look at the comedy world, and produces some interesting observations on the way we all conduct our relationships.

Prom (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

A comedy about the awkwardness and cruelty of youth.

Four old friends recount, and re-enact, the story of their end of school Prom dance and how it changed their lives.  None are ever named, and nor is "the most beautiful boy in the world" who they all obsess over.  (Although there is a goat called John Wayne who has a crucial role in the tale.)  The four thought of themselves as the cream of their year, the kids who were the "Level Ones" in the social hierarchy of their peers.  Made more special through their association with the aforementioned boy.

But underlying their self confidence are all the usual teenage neuroses, doubts and frailties.  What happens when they find out that they aren't as special as they think?  In the always connected age of social media the mistakes of our younger years are more immediate, more powerful and longer lasting, with no hiding place provided, and victimisation can swiftly get out of hand.

All four members of the cast deliver excellent performances, with the right balance of cockiness and vulnerability.  The song and dance routines are effective, but overlong at times, and could easily have been shortened.  An enjoyable and laugh filled hour, with a dark core.

Cera Impala and the New Prohibition Band, Traverse

Listen to Cera Impala and you immediately wonder why she isn't more widely known.  But in our media and brand driven society it may be because she doesn't fit into any convenient category to be neatly labelled and packaged.  Her songs slide through folk, country, swing, bluegrass, jazz and balladry.  Sometimes all in the same number.

In addition to providing lead vocals Impala plays 5 string banjo, ukuleles and guitar, backed up by one of my favourite fiddlers, Dirk Ronneburg, and the charmingly, clownishly eccentric Joey Sanderson on double bass with cymbal atop and delivering some vocal trumpetry that has to be seen to be believed.  Her voice is soft, sweet and husky, and if it doesn't appear to have a wide range it has the power to sustain some memorable long notes.  It's very expressive and works well when delivering lyrics in conversational style.

The songs cover a range of subjects, love, loss, murder, hopes and butterflies, much that is personal and some looking out at the world.  Clearly a lot of work has gone into the arrangements, with frequent surprises as songs change tempo and head off in new directions.  Ronneburg's fiddle work is a delight, never intrusive but with some impressive solos and perfectly complementing the tinkling banjo.  The bass provides a solid foundation, and, although his solos wouldn't win any prizes, Sanderson is a constant source of entertainment to observe.  Indeed the band as a whole induce a grin in their audience, not just for the quality of their music, but because they are clearly having a good time making it.  Dirk's dry humour and Cera's friendly warmth fill in the spaces between numbers and bring a few laughs to the evening.

The event was a pre-launch for the new Cera Impala album, Tumbleweed, due to be released later this year.  But copies were available on the night and I can confirm it's a pleasure to listen to.  This voice definitely deserves to be heard more widely.

Here's an example, from last year, of what she can offer.

Billy (The Days of Howling), (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

We each have our own ways of doing wrong.  And often of doing so unintentionally.

The three characters in this drama weave their often disconnected monologues through each others, as events bring them together.  Billy's Dad, rough and ready and red of neck.  Alice's Mum, so prim and proper and certain.  The Admin Lady, bitter and twisted and petty.  All three make judgements about others, all three get it wrong.  Sometimes with serious consequences.  As the connections between the trio become clearer the mistakes take shape, the misconceptions and stereotypes and conviction of rightness causing unforeseen damage.

The storyline, leading to its twisted end, goes at a cracking pace, riding over the snowbound Canadian landscape that is implanted in our minds, and it comes a surprise to realise that fifty minutes has passed, so absorbing is the flow of words.  We get to see people we all recognise, and parts of ourselves we choose to forget.  The superficial and capricious critiques of others we know little of as human beings, the assumptions we make that hide realities and disconnect us from those people who are 'not like us', the rash actions that override thoughtfulness.

All three actors give strong portrayals, with Hilary Lyon's cynical Admin Lady perhaps the pick of the trio, and the direction and minimalist set help highlight the power of the script and draw out a powerful ensemble performance.  Powerful and thought provoking.

Locust Honey String Band

A house gig with American country and bluegrass trio Locust Honey.  Featuring Chloe Edmonstone on fiddle (and occasional guitar), Meredith Watson on guitars (and occasional fiddle) and John Miller on upright bass.  They provide a mix of both traditional and self-penned songs and tunes, a tasty slice of Americana.

Both singers have strong voices, Chloe's the more resonant, Meredith's the more expressive, and they combine to good effect on the harmonies.  There are no flashy instrumental fireworks, just solid professional musicianship tightly performed.  The arrangements are straightforward and effective, the tunes rousing and delivered with an obvious love for the genre.

For the first few numbers they appeared to be one of those bands that give little of themselves to the audience, just the odd brief intro to songs, but that changed as they got further into the evening.  Forgivable when they haven't had a night off in over three weeks of touring, but the enthusiastic responses of the packed audience seemed to feed them energy.  Well before half time they were engaging much more and providing a few laughs along the way.

Foot-tapping music, a bit of fun, what more can you ask for?  When the cries of 'More' came at the end they were entirely genuine and reflected the enjoyment of the moment.  Locust Honey are a live act well worth seeing.

Some Other Stars (A Play, a Pie and a Pint), Traverse

Many years ago I had an illness which rendered me physically incapable of movement when I became very tired.  I'd end up slumped on the sofa, unable to even open my eyes, although my brain was still awake and I could hear everything around me.  Fortunately these bouts of zero movement would only last for a couple of hours at most, but could be very upsetting when people started to talk about me, unaware I could hear every word, but unable to respond.

So I was intrigued to see how these symptoms would be portrayed in someone who was unable to move for the rest of their life.  And what impact that might have on those nearest to the person?

Ian has had a stroke.  To the world he appears to be in a persistent vegetative state, but his conscious mind is active and trying to figure out what's happened to him, where he is and how can he let others know he's in here?  Cath, his wife, spends hours, days, weeks, by his bedside, willing him to communicate with her, convinced there is something going on behind Ian's eyes.  But when he finally shows signs of conscious activity her elation is tempered by glimpses of the future she can see before her.  Locked-in syndrome means Ian can only communicate through movements of his eyes, a slow and frustrating process.  Is that enough to maintain the relationship between them?

The drama explores the stresses this bleak situation brings, and the darker side of coping with such an extreme aspect of married life.  Such intense subject matter could prove overwhelming for the audience, but Clare Duffy's writing delivers some wonderful moments of black humour.  In Ian's opening monologue he has overheard a woman saying "Fuck, fuckitty bollocks" and is reassured that at least he's still in Scotland!  There are plenty of local references to Edinburgh scattered throughout, with Portobello providing the best laughs, and you can't help but leave with an entirely new appreciation of the phrase 'death by chocolate'.

The staging is excellent and provides the actors with the opportunity to add some physicality to the fast paced script.  For much of the play Ian's bedridden body is signified by an intriguingly constructed dummy, leaving Martin McCormick free to play out his inner discourse.  Both he and Kirstin Murray deliver fine performances, well balanced between the mundanity of the everyday, and the fierce emotional moments when rational thought is not enough.  Both leave the audience wondering how they might cope if placed in the position of either character, terrible in their different ways.

An intelligent and entertaining take on a challenging topic, and a rewarding way to spend fifty minutes.  Oh, and I can recommend the curried cauliflower and chickpea pie!

Woody Pines, Traverse

Opening proceedings were Old Dollar Bill, a Western style trio.  Perhaps the perfect support act.  Local, competent, amusing, working in the same genre as the headliners, and leaving no doubt about who the star turn of the night was.  The songs and arrangements lacked much real originality, the singing was average, and best bit in most numbers was the guitar solo.   Pleasant enough, but left us knowing that something better was to come.

And so it did.  Woody Pines, from Nashville Tennessee, is a class act, both musically and entertainment wise.  Featuring Dakota Collins on upright bass, Josh Irwin on lead guitar, and Woody himself on rhythm guitar, harmonica and lead vocals, the band plays a mix of self penned numbers and more traditional material.  With a mix of rockabilly, blues country and the odd nod to the jazz world, Woody has carved out his own sound and style.  There's tribute being paid to the likes of Hank Williams and the heyday of Tin Pan Alley, but the music feels fresh and up to date.

Woody's own songs reflect his on stage persona - witty, uncomplicated and cool.  He's a storyteller by nature and his relationship with his audience is involving and energetic.  If his singing voice isn't the greatest around it is somehow friendly, charming and very listenable.  The show is peppered with laughs, both during and between numbers.

Musically the band is tight and highly professional.  Collins impressed with his ability to swiftly adapt to playing a three string bass after one went twang (and when was the last time you saw a bass string break?).  Irwin's solos were a delight, full of imagination and the unexpected, and crossing genres.  Impressive.

Hard to imagine anyone leaving one of Woody's gigs without a smile on their face.  And you can't ask for more than that.

Karine Polwart, Traverse

As one of the biggest stars of the Scottish, indeed UK, folk scene it was no surprise that this gig was sold out weeks in advance.  As one of her first acts on stage Polwart asked how many in the audience had seen her performing before, and the vast majority of hands shot up.  Karine has a loyal following, but must have surprised them all with this performance.

Recounting how the brief song introductions she'd done early in her career had steadily grown to the point where she found herself speaking as much as she was singing, it felt natural to develop a style which mixed spoken word and music with no precedence given to one or the other.  So this show was in the nature of an experiment, to see how this new approach felt, and she asked our indulgence.

Anyone coming desirous of hearing an evening of song might have been disappointed, but for those of more open mind this was a fascinating gig.  Under the theme of Wind Resistance, Polwart took us out into the landscape near her Midlothian home, specifically Fala Moor, mixing descriptions of the landscape, views, wildlife and trees with stories from past and present, and interspersed by a carefully chosen selection of songs, leading into musings on life, politics and Donald Trump (she's not a fan).  In the second half there was the story of the difficult birth of her first child, complete with graphic detail of the ordeal (I heard one woman behind me exclaim "Oh No" in a genuinely pained tone at one point), stretching into a more philosophical meandering through her thoughts on the state of our society.

Alongside the stories of her own reality were tales of fiction and myth, a Pablo Neruda poem, and, of course, songs.  Some from the tradition, others of more recent origin, and many from her own pen.  A Bert Jansch number provided a reminder that whilst her musical ability is more than competent for most song accompaniment, she's no Anna Massie.  But the voice transcends this, clear, warm and carrying an accent lightly, it draws in the listener and can make accompaniment redundant.  For an encore she eschewed the guitar and delivered a perfect rendition of the gorgeous Follow The Heron, a perfect way to round off the evening.

Overall the show had the feeling of a work in progress, a stepping off point, but one that is headed in the right direction.  It's an approach that would only work as a solo performance, and those seeking a more musical set would be advised to see Karine with her band.  But her ability as a storyteller suggest this is a new artistic approach that could win Polwart a new band of fans.  It will be interesting to see where this takes her in future.