Jenni Ajderian

(originally published by The Student )      “We've been killing a lot of zombies”, the comedian and bouffant-haired Tom Deacon explains from the notably zombie-free Brooke's Bar upstairs in Potterrow, “and I'm not really getting any thanks for that.”      Alas there are no awards for control of the undead, not like there are Chortle and Student comedy awards, which Deacon has no trouble in collecting. Away from the zombies and his beloved Xbox (“the most important thing in my life”), Deacon has his second hour-long Fringe stand-up show, a weekly Radio 1 show and a new comedy play to keep him occupied, all of which is a far cry from the dingy student pubs he was playing in just a few years ago.      Deacon is living a non-stop month this August on both sides of the border. In the day time, he performs in Joe Bor's new play Who Killed the Counsellor? , and finds the hormonal 17-year-old within. By turns huffy, boastful and sensitive, Deacon grins as he tells me he get

The all-absorbing nature of the Festival became all too clear when everyone started going on about some riots down south. Here, our newspapers are replaced by free review magazines, the daily grind with plays and comedy and exhibitions and the occasional concert. The strange filtering-through of news to a flat with no internet, no regular newspapers, no TV, was reminiscent of Glastonbury in 2009 when Michael Jackson died, and while the world outside was crying its face off, most of us were none the wiser. Whereas in the fields and the mud we had RIP Jacko tshirts by the following morning, up here in Auld Reekie the comedians react in the only way they know how- jokes. What seemed like a race to make the easy jokes first meant stand-ups were telling us how they were desperately trying to contact their loved ones in Tottenham- “Size eleven, nothing in white.” (Steve Day, Run, Deaf Boy, Run!), or how they were happy to be already in Scotland before the locals start re-building Hadrian

If you only see one monumental multi-media sensory-deprivation performance artwork this festival, this year, this lifetime, Il Pixel Rosso's And The Birds Fell From The Sky should be it. A mere fifteen minutes takes us from the real world to a dream and somewhere in between, everything communicated to us through the dense black goggles placed over our eyes and the headphones in our ears. Daylight seems unnatural. As we move through a world to which we are now blind, the world in the goggles reacts, and what starts as a mere vision turns into a story which has us responding to its every whim. We travel in a car with four Faruq- a race painted to look like monochrome circus clowns who speak an impenetrable language, see dreams and visions; we smell the rain, the vodka, the lighter, the grass, we hear the birdsong, and we are asked- Are you sleeping through the best part of this journey? We are given a keepsake. Mine was The Fool, The Tower and The Hanged Man. In Tarot cards, these p

We learn quickly. Aside from the festival favourites of Always Bring a Programme, An Open Mind and an Umbrella (ESPECIALLY if it doesn't look like rain), we learn the importance of timing. Deadlines being at noon on the following day, one doesn't want to write up reviews minutes after seeing the show for fear of missing the next one; neither should we write them at 2 minutes to noon, typing with one hand and nursing a cocktail of fruit juice, paracetamol and pro plus with the other. We learn the special kind of fatigue which comes from watching shows for four hours a day, walking between them all with our programme, our open mind and our umbrella in tow, and trying to socialise afterwards. See above and the fruit juice-paracetamol-pro plus cocktail. We learn the scale of the city, we learn to powerwalk off the beaten path and to cross junctions at a sharp angle. We learn how to avoid the flyerers which now plague the busy streets- either by singing loudly along with an iPod or

Scotland is not a hotbed for Japanese music, so Art Lee and his band of traditional Taiko musicians take time out of their set to give us a background of their art, before launching into an adaptation of Bach or songs from a Japanese coffee machine. In the day time Ocean shows, three musicians play with absolutely serene faces and powerful movements reminiscent of martial arts, while the Mountain shows in the evening feature talented drummers using simplistic instruments that resonate beautifully in this historical Prince's Street Church. Peaceful, meaningful music with a purpose, from prayer to celebration, is played alongside Tango or Rumba music, showing the versatility of instruments and musicians alike. **** St John's Church, 5 – 29 Aug (not 11, 18, 25), times vary, £10 - £12 [originally written for ThreeWeeks magazine]

...and a dolphin, a nude Scotsman and a whole host of prostitutes. There are hundreds of Holmes adaptations out there, and I am not afraid to say that this is the best. We are taken from Baker Street to Chicago in a flawlessly choreographed hour of fast-paced brilliance of Blockbuster quality on less than a B-movie budget. With only two bodies Max and Ivan create a world full of characters so clear-cut that they can all take to the stage at once, argue, fight, and still keep us captivated. Sound effects, flashbacks, theme tunes- nothing is beyond the range of this breathless production, which brings out the ridiculous in Holmes and sublimely exploits our understanding of the magic of theatre. ***** Ditto Productions, Pleasance Courtyard, 3 – 29 Aug (not 16), 3:30 pm (1 hour), £8.50 - £11.00 [originally written for ThreeWeeks magazine]

Fairytales grow up. They grow deeper, darker and stronger. Our heroine is no longer a scared little girl but a stoic woman who insists she is neither lost nor tired. Maggie, part realist, part sleeping child, is woken by a spellbinding fox, surrounded by weeping trees and mocked by a trio of birds. A dreamlike world is created under Soco's flaky ceiling by an earnest cast who take the idea of physical theatre and use it tastefully, and not so much that it should scare away fans of traditional theatre. Seated on camping chairs, we are taken through the forest and into the sky, through suffering and away from the howls of the wolf. Strange and beautiful, touching and magical. **** Flyaway Theatre, C Soco, 3 – 29 Aug (not 15, 22), 2:00pm (3:15pm), £6.50 - £9.50 [originally written for ThreeWeeks magazine]

If the noise and haste of the Royal Mile is getting to you already, I urge you to visit Thomas Houseago's exhibition at the Royal Botanical Gardens. Though huge, metallic and rough around the edges, Houseago's shining collection subtly blends into its leafy background; the piece entitled 'Reclining Figure', placed near a viewpoint of the whole city, echoes Arthur's Seat's curves, while the totemic 'Rattlesnake Figure' has woodgrain etched into its aluminium surface, letting it merge with the surrounding trees. A little far-flung, the pieces are easy to miss if you're not looking- or can't read maps. That said, if you find yourself with a sunny day and a compass handy, let Houseago draw you off the beaten path. *** Royal Botanical Garden – Inverleith House, 1 Aug – 4 Sep, 10:00am (open til 5:45pm), free [originally written for ThreeWeeks magazine]