Date: 8th August
Time: 10pm
Venue: Amphitheatre at theSpace @ Symposium Hall
Rating: ★★★★½ (4.5)
Reviewed by: Honour De Pledge
The phrase ‘spoken word poetry’ doesn’t really ring the Pavlov’s bells of my brain. It’s a funny genre with a funny set of connotations (not funny ‘haha’, funny weird), but as I frantically scanned my thick pink block of a Fringe programme at 8:30pm for a late show happening that evening, the first one I came across was ‘SpitNights – Poetry Meets Improv Jazz’. I laughed. What could be more Fringe than that?
A little over an hour later, I found myself in the biggest queue I had been in all day and we filed into what must usually be something akin to a lecture theatre. On stage, a saxophone, keyboard, bass guitar and a drum kit were all lit up in a bright electric blue. There were, of course, also people to whom I assume these instruments belonged, who, we were told by our very energetic host, had come up from London. Their improvised jazz did not only run behind the three poets who were to speak tonight but behind their own introduction and the introductions of each act.
The music became the heartbeat and skin of the show, keeping it going, giving it rhythm, and shielding it against the painful weight of unwanted silences. No matter how specific or niche the on-the-spot briefs they were given, the musicians delivered beautifully with an ease that was astoundingly impressive. A special note must be given to the saxophonist who, because of the show-stealing quality (and volume) of his instrument, had to try to anticipate when the poet was going to speak so as not to block or overshadow the spoken word. Also because of the fantastic rendition of Pitbull’s ‘Tequila’ that is solely responsible for at least half a star of this review score.
The poetry itself was what I was most nervous for. Everybody in their right mind loves jazz, but spoken word… doesn’t quite elicit the same response. However, when the host gave a brief introduction to what SpitNights was and how it had been formed, he did make a self-aware comment/joke about ‘combining two of the most pretentious art forms’, which put a smile on everyone’s faces and put me at ease. Then he introduced three acts one after the other, whilst cultivating and maintaining an energy perhaps most aptly described as ‘buzzing’.
Each poet had their own style (to be expected), their own themes (to be expected) and their own voices (both literally and metaphorically) (to be expected), but they came together on Saturday evening as individual thirds of a cohesive and flowing whole. I believe that the three poets will change over the course of SpitNights’ Fringe run, so there will always be something new and improvised each night. The three I saw on Saturday spanned a range of emotions from political aggression to tentative hopefulness to heartbreak and wondering whether your cat would be in a Tommy Robinson march if he turned into a human being.
So was it pretentious or just a really fun silly time? Both, and I didn’t mind one bit.
★★★★½ – 4.5/5 Stars
Tickets: SpitNights: Poetry Meets Improv Jazz – Edinburgh Festival Fringe
