Crikey

Until this week, I didn't realise that the Scottish Culture Cringe was, like, a thing. It must be a thing because the two people who have accused me of having it both gave it capital letters, like that. I think they are responding to a subtext in my reviews of Grit which suggest that I am not comfortable with its representation of Scottish culture.

I appreciate both commentators, because they are provoking a deeper consideration of how I feel about Grit, and Scottish cultural identity. On reflection, it turns out that I have a soft-spot for bagpipes in particular contexts and that I mourn the erosion of Highland dance events. The latter taste I can attribute to Plan B's wonderful Shoogle Project, a dance show that managed to combine social dance and contemporary choreography,and achieved the mash-up of folk and formal arts (it really was a gig with a performance included, and ground the fourth wall into the dust beneath the feet of a grooving audience).

The Shoogle Project is the real living legacy of 7:84, recognising the role of the audience and making theatre 'a good night out' indeed.

The idea that I have Scottish Cultural Cringe is worth considering seriously: am I uncomfortable with declarations of patriotism? Reflecting on Grit, I can spot a peculiar passion in my reviews of it. I verge on rage in places, identifying the play as propaganda. I refer to it as an expression of 'supremacy,' which can be taken as an ugly word. I accuse it of being a hagiography - the life-story of a saint. Funny how that has become a term of abuse...

The passion, however, I can put down to the mood of the play: it is vigorous, extravagant, extreme in its dynamism and drive. I can't help think that my response was determined by the impact of the work, driving me to use melodramatic language.

(I don't want to write much more about Grit, although I am enjoying the discussions it has brought up. I am getting pushed into defending my opinions, which is fair enough, but I don't want to end up writing blog after blog about how I didn't like it... the impression becomes that I really hate it, when I just didn't think it was 'my kind of theatre.').

I can't retract that statement, though. Here is the argument for Grit being hagiographic in visual format.