It’s been a few weeks now since the Brisbane Festival ended and I think I have recovered from my festival fatigue enough to want to paint the town pink all over again, so wonderful was the range of shows and cultural commentary (Guardian podcast – case in point).
That is the lure of festival adrenaline. Festivillany can be an extreme artistic sport, reliant on power naps and ‘on the go’ eats in attempt to combat risk of running oneself into the ground amid the blurred boundaries of multiple shows.
I know this all too well, having spent a month at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, that surreal Iron-Bru fuelled theatrical spectacle. While the program can be overwhelming (I saw but a mere 85 of its 2500ish shows), the wildly varying quality of shows is secondary to the addictive atmosphere. Indeed, the streets, bars and venues are filled with an artistic army from all over the world on a culture-vulture pub crawl. It’s what fuels your obsession to see more in order to regret less.
Sure absence makes the heart grow fonder and taking a (relative) theatre time out can serve to re-motivate. But now rested, I’m already looking forward to the delights that 2014 will bring, especially those at next year’s Bris Fest culture jamboree.