15 August 2001
How to Put on a Fringe Play
Here's one woman's guide to putting on a play. Remember who the author is and take it with a pinch of salt. (A shot of tequila and a slice of lemon also help.) But if you do follow these steps religiously, please inform me of the results!

Step 1: Choosing The Play
Choose your play carefully. Contrary to what you may think, it will not make the difference between having an audience or not – for that there is publicity. If you like the play you're doing, you will find it easier to convince others of its merits. Faking enthusiasm shouldn't be too hard, it's called "acting", and a good enough actor should be able to sell his play no matter how awful it is. If you don't know how to act you should probably avoid the Fringe Festival... but naturally there are exceptions to this rule as well.

We chose our play on the basis of its emotional appeal. The Visionary is a beautiful love story between a girl and a mysterious stranger who makes nightly appearances in her bedroom. It is a piece depicting love and hope, but also tragedy and despair. This is what you tell the press. Yes, even though the truth is much more interesting. "And what is the truth?" you may wonder. The play was written in homage of the play's protagonist and based on the incestuous relationship between Emily Bronte and her brother. Draw your own conclusions. To me that sounded like reason enough to put it on.

Step 2: Selecting The Cast
As the curtain rises we introduce the cute and lovable girl-and-angel, the cold-and-heartless mother and father, and the supportive housekeeper. Or, as the case may be, we present a demonstration of "How To Make A Convincing Family Out Of Two Glaswegians, One Australian, An Englishwoman and A Finn". We're still working on this, but if all else fails there is still time to re-name the play.

Step 3: Recruiting The Crew
For the Fringe, choose the best, and only the best. You will know what I mean when you discover one person who can and has to do everything, including directing, lights, stage managing, programs, flyering, necessary stand-in acting and scriptwriting where needed. If you have more than one person doing this job, they're not doing it right.

Step 4: Viewing The Venue
So you don't live in the city you're performing in. Big deal.

Find comfort in the fact that not even the people who have spent three years or more in the city of the festival have actually seen their own venue until a week prior to their performance. Had they seen it earlier, it simply would not be fair on the other production companies (is what we tell ourselves time and time again). Alternatively it would be organised and sensible, two words you will not find in a Fringe performer's vocabulary. (They were taken out along with the word "prosperous" at the same time as "gullible" was taken out of all dictionaries.)

The Venue is only a space. If you're performing a Shakespeare play and the venue turns out to be a nightclub – make do. The audience will question your decision for a while, but they generally stop caring after the first half hour. Oh... your show is only 20 minutes long. Well, they might question it in front of other people, and any publicity is good publicity.

Step 5: Deciding The Budget
Think of a reasonable figure. Then double it. Then realise you don't have the money. Cut down the budget to its original figure and spend it like you only have half the amount. One inventive flyer will have a longer lifespan than a million dull ones, so do something original. Then remember your budget and settle for accompanying your flyer with a loud – but free – sales pitch.

Step 6: The Publicity
There are many things you can do, such as

• Dress up like a human sausage and run around town shouting abuse
• Perform extracts from your play in random places around town
• Take your clothes off
• Hire an airplane to write your sales pitch in the sky.

Alternatively you can print your cast and crew nine t-shirts that have a typo in the play title. And when anyone asks why the title is misspelled, you can turn around, point to the missing letter (which is printed on the back of your shirt), and convince that person that it was all done on purpose. If anyone actually falls for the line "We messed up our t-shirts to sell our show" they are probably gullible enough to come and see it.

The only other imaginable group who could be fascinated by this publicity stunt are the critics, who can smell amateur behaviour like piranhas smell blood.

If you cant poof reed you're t-shert design, find someone who can read or, as mentioned above, change the title of your show.

Step 7: The Schmoozing
No large event would be the same without the people in the industry comparing notes. The Edinburgh Festival Fringe has made the process easier by inviting all performers to a confined space where they can sell their shows to each other. Playing themselves down, while simultaneously painting a picture of fascination, the actors wandering around are sometimes more interesting than the characters they portray on stage.

Of course, by the end of the night you have walked around promising to see everybody's show, and everyone you have met and handed out your unique flyer to has vowed to see your play. Holy promises are given, numbers are exchanged (on flyers, naturally) and contacts are made.

Here's the vital tip: if you do go to see a show, stay behind and talk to the production company, for they will appreciate the support. Then guilt-trip them into seeing your production.

And Finally...
The rest, you may think, is up to endless rehearsing, talent, charisma, careful planning and intensive flyering. With an average audience of six people per night, there is no guarantee that any of the above-mentioneds will take you anywhere, but this is not meant to discourage anyone from putting on a show in the Fringe (as long as you don't compete directly with my show), it is just meant to prepare you, and possibly guide you through some of the events and obstacles that appear over and over again. If you're looking for fortune, this is not the place for you. If you're looking for fame, these things have on occasion happened (think Emma Thompson). But in most cases, arm yourself with a sense of humour, because what you will get is a wonderful (if slightly (!!) stressful) experience you didn't bargain for – not in a million years.

Questions?
If you want more information about this area you can email the author or check out our Europe Insiders page.