Fringe Review: "Star-Crossed Poetry" Explores the Rawness of Love
Tucked away on Wolf Lane far from the Fringe hustle and bustle there is a show that gets down to the nitty gritty of an examined life; love, sex and loss, and what it all really means, if anything.
The performance in Star-Crossed Poetry is sensational, as each poet observes the nuances of a romantic relationship; a tide that rises, and often falls beyond what is hoped for. No poet can be painted with the same brush and these are no different; Jesse Oliver arrives with a millennial's insight and a brain bursting at the seams, Laundry Man delivers Shakespeare with resonance like no other and his own lines bear resemblance to the bread of life, while Saoirse Nash bathes the audience in the lilting sea of a somehow soft apocalypse, as if we all survived by the skin of our teeth, and Demie Scally calls the audience on their bullshit in a way they didn't know they needed but appreciate ever so much. Jake Sulli holds it all together as we rough-and-tumble our way through the tumult that is 'modern romance'.
The show explores expectation and reality, and in a poignant conclusion by slam champion Jesse Oliver it seems that reality comes off best. It is the realness of love that keeps us going, the catastrophic, untamed way of it that is beyond what we can imagine or hope for. This show is that; beyond what can be imagined or hoped for, an excavation into the heart that sits deep in your chest for the week to come.
It harnesses the honest power of poetry, although each show is tailored for an audience there is an authentic energy to every word uttered in this show. It only takes one look at the poets; eyes closed as they walk us through their memories as if for the first time, to know there is something real here, a promise of an answer to the age-old question 'what is love?' though you may have to find it out for yourself. For anyone who has been in love, out of love or even speculated the concept, there is something here for you. Come hear it through a lover's lungs and a poet's tongue, you know you want to.
