An assault on the senses in Cork

CORK MIDSUMMER FESTIVAL: From standing ovations and dancing in the aisles, to impromptu audience participation on the streets…


CORK MIDSUMMER FESTIVAL:From standing ovations and dancing in the aisles, to impromptu audience participation on the streets, this year's Cork Midsummer Festival has a sense of creativity lurking around corners, catching everyone unawares

WHILE THERE may not be as many grand artistic set pieces as previous years, there is fluidity to this year's Cork Midsummer Festival, and also a conscious effort to engage and connect with the wider community. It was evident on Saturday night, as the crowd emerged from the Cork Opera House. Inside, the Penguin Café Orchestra had received two standing ovations to their almost sold-out show, and prompted audience members to dance in the aisles. Outside after the show, Galway street theatre company Macnas was directing people to a performance space where a group of actors took on themes such as love and madness, in Rumpus!, helped by audience participation.

This is what festivals should be about – a sense of creativity lurking around corners, catching the audience unawares. Of course, late-night street theatre in Ireland also has the nightlife to battle with, and Saturday was no exception.

One local, who possibly had one or two light ales too many, tried to join the action and broke through the audience to where the actors were performing. He gave a little shuffle and delivered a monologue as incoherent as any of Beckett’s most complex work, before being helped back to his rightful place in the audience by two security staff.

READ MORE

Perhaps, late-night street theatre will only truly flourish here with the introduction of prohibition.

Other companies had to battle with the outdoors, including Hammergrin Theatre Company, which decided to set its play, Latch, in a partly finished housing estate in Passage West. This meant actors were prey to the elements, for the first week in particular; there wasn't a dry eye, or head, among the cast. "It tended to not be raining at the start of the show, so we didn't have an excuse to not go ahead. Then about five minutes in, the rain would start," says co-writer John McCarthy.

“There are two boys playing the main roles and until the last night, it rained on every one of Doug’s nights and stayed dry for the other actor’s nights. Then the one night it was dry for Doug, a bit of moisture managed to trip the generator. It’s going very well though, other than that.”

On the visual arts side, one of the hits of the festival has been the Solsticeprogramme on the third floor of the former Fás building on Sullivan's Quay. The project sprung from a curator's programme attached to previous festivals which sought to allow up-and-coming artists carve out a creative space for themselves.

From Thursday to Sunday last week, more than 33 artists and companies presented work from various genres between 10am and 11pm. The final night's performance, I Am a Homebird (It's Very Hard), was presented by Talking Shop Ensemble. It dealt defiantly with the spectre of emigration.

The cast talked about friends and family who have moved overseas, and received a standing ovation for a show that was saying not everyone has left.

Camille O’Sullivan’s first of four nights at the Spiegeltent was marked by a wardrobe malfunction, which threatened to present her at her most revealing and did little to hamper sales for her other three shows.

Meanwhile, performance artist Laurie Anderson added an extra date this Sunday to her festival participation, so great was the demand. To coincide with this, a public conversation between Anderson and Glucksman Gallery director Fiona Kearney has also been added on the final day of the festival at 3pm in Triskel Christchurch. The revamped venue is proving something of a hub for the festival, hosting the box office as well as the festival club. Although, artistic director Tony Sheehan has had to rely on second-hand accounts of the late-night antics, as they stretch far beyond his bedtime. “It all sounds like a bit of craic,” Sheehan says, “I’m too old now so I don’t go near it. I hear back from the youngsters and they’re enjoying it!”


For more, see corkmidsummer.com