Reducing Bedlam

Against my expectations, I have been cast in Bedlam Reduced, the show where Bedlam satirizes itself. This, after many misdirections and red herrings, will actually be my final performance on the Bedlam stage (at one stage it looked like this would be Vatnsdal, which would have been unfortunate). Unless, of course, I don't end up leaving Edinburgh after all, at which point I might just stick around, never moving on- suspending myself in the metaphorical water of Bedlam like a prosophobic axolotl. But, let's all hope to God that doesn't happen: I don't have the facial hair to be David K. Barnes (However, I have the head hair to be Bryn Jones).

This will mean I've participated in all the major Bedlam traditions- Freshers' Play, Freshers' Slots, Panto, BedFest, 24 hour play, Candlewasters; and, if one includes Australian efforts- which one definitely should- I've actually written for, acted in and directed at all of them.

Bedlam Reduced will mean Esmond is directing me, and this is a new dynamic to our relationship, although there was a gratifying moment when the collected masses of the Bedlam Reduced cast joined me in calling out Esmond on his ridiculous pronunciation of 'segue'- he rhymed it with 'league'. I'll just call them next time he starts going on about 'banal premises', or as he'd say it 'bay-null prem-Ices' (he also pronounces 'rabid' and 'awry' like a twat).

However, Reduced also means that a date has been set for my final performance: it's weird when I think about how I entered that building on Monday 13th September 2010 at 12.00**.

This is how I know the exact time; and to think, I only went cos I wanted to score with Freya.

On April 6th 2014 at approximately 00.30- 3 years, 6 months, 24 days, 12 hours and 30 minutes later- I'll actually properly leave. And while I was absent for a year- for all of the time that I was physically in Edinburgh, there were only five weeks in total when I wasn't involved in some kind of theatre- granted, not all of that was in Bedlam, but 25 out of 47 shows were.
I've probably spent more of my waking hours in Edinburgh in Bedlam than anywhere else (after all, I changed flats four times). And as my last hurrah, I'm gonna take the piss out of Bedlam- its bureaucracy, its members and its brilliant, godawful, bittersweet, oxymoronic shows.
What a fitting end.

**I had to google several different several events to write this post, some of which happened four years ago and all the information was just instantaneously available to me; at the same time as I like having a sort of stenographer to my youth, it also creeps me out sadly how down to the minute I can pinpoint my entry to this one decrepit building. At least it'll make my autobiography less vague.