I regularly get asked if I still get nervous going on stage. Well, I used to - all the time - my first two years were so wracked with nerves that my favourite bit of every show was the bit when I left (and on half of the occasions, that sentiment was shared by the audience). But then I found the solution - not 'breathing exercises', necking a few drinks or any sort of meditation - monotony. Gigging near enough every night made the process of going on stage feel almost ordinary, and the nerves got fed up of being ignored and went off to sulk.

However, I will still from time to time get nervous - when I'm going to get reviewed; when there are important people in the audience; and when I've invested a large amount of time, effort and expense in what I'm doing. And therefore, by ticking all 3 boxes, Edinburgh typically reinvokes those open-spot emotions, and with some force too.

So with this being my 6th Fringe, I was hoping that repetition would help dull those jitters, and therefore on arriving yesterday I went off and did all the things I typically do on arriving in Edinburgh to see if re-establishing a routine will help calm my fears for the next four weeks, of which I have many. In fact, my need for routine was so great I even decided to drive up past the angel of the North even though my in-car traffic management thing was telling me the road was jammed. Familiarity: Check.



So after arriving at the flat (which I've stayed in before - check) and unpacking and making myself a peppermint tea using the weird brown-tinged water only Edinburgh locals think is clean (check) I went for a walk, bumping into my tech from last year (check) and putting my head round the doors of my favourite haunts (check). I'm even performing in the same room, the Pleasance Upstairs, at the same time, 6pm. (Double check). So far, the only indication you'd have that this was 2008 was the fact that half the roads have been cut up with tram tracks and that between every Starbucks, someone seems to have built a Starbucks.

So far, so normal. I nipped by the Pleasance Courtyard where the place was still a building site (check - it always is even with just 48 hours to go). I had a mild panic when I saw a building had suddenly sprouted proper air-conditioning, but relaxed on realising this was the box office portakabins.



Thankfully the main rooms will still be roasting hot and sweltering even on muggy days, so no break from the norm for me to contend with there - phew. In every sense.

Heading on to the Royal Mile, I even stopped for a burger just down and opposite the fringe office, before completing my lap of nostalgia, and I was already feeling chilled with familiarity. This was going to be a fantastic routine break from the old routine.



But then, I stupidly put my head round the door of the fringe office. Except I couldn't, because it was closed. The ticket problem here - which was recently upgraded from problem, to calamity, and then crisis - has now developed into a full blown state of emergency. No tickets for sale (as per the websites) and the office would only be open the following day for collections - assuming those tickets could be printed - or even found. A few phonecalls to people in the know has revealed the full horror of the ticketing nightmare; the fringe still can't take nearly all orders, the website is failing, and only the venue's own offices can deal with the sales, and not always either. That's all well and good if you're with the big four, but for some venues, no fringe box office equals no box office whatsoever. And there's a very real rumour going around that sales in June have been lost from some of the systems. This could actually shut down whole venues, it's that bad, I'm not exaggerating.

It is now just 24 hours until my first show and I have no idea how many tickets I have sold, and those ever-present internal neuroses I'd almost managed to placate has found this fact a perfect springboard to get those pre-fest nerves jangling again in full effect. Bugger. The woman I stumbled across painting the 'self-service box office' sign may end up having to use those skills to draw those tickets when they fail to be printed, ordered, or collated. No wonder the ticket guys and gals have the best aircon this year, they're performing the trickiest gig of the lot.



Stephen

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Comment from: Lizzie [Visitor]

I was in Stephen's 1st preview yesterday. Great show. I only saw him for the first time last year but think he can add another ritual to his list - "being very funny and imaginative" (check). Everyone was beaming on their way out.

Permalink 31/07/08 @ 11:39

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