Rantin

Rantin by Kieran Hurley, the posters say. As the performance begins with a Forced Entertainment-inspired introduction and explanation of what will happen, we are quickly told to think of Kieran Hurley as a band, one of whose members happens to be Kieran Hurley. The production is, after all, a collaborative effort. 

As the audience file in to Cove Burgh Hall, the four performers are already on stage, singing folk tunes and happily telling the audience to talk amongst themselves, they’re just warming up. It’s a relaxed and comfortable feeling that slips from this into the performance, where music and stories work side by side to create an image of Scotland in its present moment. A young boy leaving the islands, an American flying to Scotland for the first time, a teenage girl taking a stand, an Edinburgh business man reveling in his newest deal. These are just a few of the many voices presented, and the company’s intention to represent the voices of a nation clearly comes through, and it works. There is a mulitplicity of not one, but many Scottish identities being formed, each just as integral to the nation as the next. 

Although it may not be a political piece, it is a play for Scotland’s present and for Scotland’s future. A play for the power that each individual voice should have, even if they don’t realise it. As the performers slip between different narratives, each new or returning character is denoted by a simple item of clothing, and it seems they are not presenting separate narratives at all, but the singular narrative of a diverse country.

Live music, drawing on Scottish folk tradition, at times incorporating Gaelic and encouraging the audience to sing or hum along, glues the narrative together and it is the recurring MacPherson’s Rant that most sticks in the mind. We are reminded that while a rant may conjure up thoughts of anger, it can also be an expression of joy, and that is the positive note that Rantin aims to leave you dwelling on.