A festival that does rather dragon
Edinburgh in summer isn’t a city many associate with art. Latenight comedy gigs in the back of a pub? Yes. Experimental theatre in some out-of-the-way venue? Of course. Men in kilts “serenading” tourists with bagpipes on the Royal Mile? Definitely.
There’s so much live performance, the visual arts tend to take a back seat. This was underscored by last year’s philistine decision, by Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, to close Inverleith House as a dedicated contemporary art gallery. Over the previous three decades, thanks to visionary curator Paul Nesbitt, Inverleith House had established a superb reputation as one of the few places in Scotland where people could see first-rate modern art. What is being shown in its beautiful 18th-century galleries this summer? A dreary-sounding exhibition called Plant Scenery of the World.
During August, many of the city’s other galleries and museums schedule exciting shows in the hope of benefiting from tourism. Since 2004, the Edinburgh Art Festival, now under the directorship of Sorcha Carey, has consolidated all this activity, selling itself as a visual arts equivalent of the International and Fringe programmes.
Visiting the art festival, which I have done most summers since its inception, can be frustrating. It has appeared to muddle on year after year. And this year’s programme, which is meek, meagre, and, worse, occasionally boring, risks pitching it into terminal irrelevance. I don’t for one second question the industry and sincerity of the artists. Rather, the fault surely lies with the administrators.
The theme this year is the legacy of Patrick Geddes (1854-1932), the Scottish sociologist and town planner whose manifesto The Making of the Future was published 100 years ago. There is no doubt the polymath credited with coining the phrase, “Think globally, act locally” is a fascinating figure. As the theme for an inclusive arts festival aimed at a wide audience? Already, it strikes me, we are in esoteric, alienating territory.
One flagship commission is by the Glaswegian artist Toby Paterson. Stimulated by his research into Geddes’s work, he has designed a sort of sculptural installation-cum-pavilion for Chessels Court, a quiet courtyard near the Royal Mile. Although it wasn’t finished when I visited, I could see at once that many of its abstract forms will reference architectural aspects of the city. The finished effect should be pleasing, but, tucked out of sight, in a not-especially-appealing corner of the city, I doubt it will have much impact. Artistically, it feels modest. Perhaps out of necessity: Paterson was commissioned as recently as February.
Nearby, Shannon Te Ao, a leading artist in New Zealand, presents a video installation in Gladstone Court, a former Magdalene Asylum for “fallen” women. Upstairs, we see beautiful footage of New Zealand’s landscape. Downstairs, two attractive figures embrace. The Geddes link isn’t tangential: it’s non-existent. As for the work itself, it doesn’t feel haunting, but pretentious and flat.
Odder, and so more interesting, is the huge inflatable hand-stitched dragon by artists Zoe Walker and Neil Bromwich, lurking in the Gothic kirk of Trinity Apse. Emblazoned on its flanks are the phrases “Profit & Private Ownership” and “Corporate Greed”. On Thursday, to mark the start of the festival, Walker and Bromwich will lead the dragon in a parade through the streets, along with 40 people in costume, before performing an old folk play about Saint George. The whole homespun endeavour has a pleasingly madcap quality, but it, too, feels minor.
There are many notable “partner exhibitions” – such as the consistently excellent Fruitmarket Gallery’s solo show for the Brazilian artist Jac Leirner, and Daughters of Penelope, a Dovecot Studios exhibition devoted to innovative textile work by women.
However, these shows are the responsibility of the institutions that stage them. As for the festival itself, if it wishes to achieve even national significance, it needs to up its game.