Wright & Grainger – Say It & Play It

Wright & Grainger are two friends from Yorkshire who have been writing and playing together for most of their lives. In Adelaide, we know them as the storytellers of Orpheus, Eurydice – and new this year, the superb Helios; and the euphoric songs and spoken word of The Gods, The Gods, The Gods. They take their stories and music all over the world, playing in back gardens, Fringe yurts, and the Sydney Opera House. And for two nights in Adelaide, they’re playing a less structured gig, full of poems and songs that are old, borrowed, or new; things that didn’t fit into one of their shows, alongside snippets of those that did.

The venue is the courtyard at the historic Treasury 1860 Hotel – it’s a beautiful spot, surrounded by the old stonework, English box hedges circling a trickling fountain, and a simple stage with two microphones set up opposite each other. Oh, and smart people discretely taking orders for food and drink, to bring them to your table.

Without the skeleton of a story, it does get a bit muddled at times – Phil Grainger forgets the words to one of his new songs, but we all chuckle and wait until he ‘something, something’s to the chorus. Yet whilst different from their unique brand of story-telling shows, it still works – we’re accepting, we know what this pair can give us – and they don’t disappoint.

There are songs of first love, second love; poetry on bus stops, and stone masons, and broken relationships leaving half-empty bookshelves. And there is an epic tale worthy of the Greek mythology with which they are so familiar: a trip to Italy to see Damien Rice play a show. On this journey they take us on, there are references to the Bible, abstract expressionism, a Roman amphitheatre, and Shakespeare’s The Tempest.

Alexander Wright compares our courtyard venue to playing gigs in his North Yorkshire garden – and we recognise that: it does feel less like being an audience, and more like being friends.

Their calm graciousness is refreshing: when the duo called after me as we left the venue, I returned to hear again the profound thoughts they had offered in my direction, instead to discover that they had just said ‘Thanks for coming’.

Yet in a Fringe distracting us with noise and chaos, that gentle gratitude remains profound.

Review by Mark Wickett

To check out our round-up of Adelaide Fringe reviews, click here.