We have a remembrance in this issue of Bob Cuddihy, a well kent face around Leith and STV, in the 1970s and 80s. One of his great loves was setting up The Islander paper on Arran and the Inner Hebrides in the early 1960s straight from school! Here’s a sample.

There Was A Man

This deep dive into Rabbie Burns’s work requires the actor John Cairney to embark upon a major feat of memory, as it is the longest piece of spoken literature today {circa1960}, also deserves attention because its author, Tom Wright, has used Burns’s own words and letters to bring the poet back from a neutered limbo where he has festered for many years.

John Cairney, who first acted the part 4 years ago at Edinburgh Festival, commissioned the play from Wright; partly because of his close resemblance to the poet.

In the play, there are few unusual approaches to theatre production, but there are touches which bring the audience into contact with the actor. Burns leaves the stage a number of times and rather than entering ‘stage left’ or ‘stage right’ he enters from the back of the hall.

“This unnerves people,” says Cairney, “because they want an actor to be far off and out of touch, rather than in immediate contact with them.”

However, the few unconventional stage directions probably reflect the limitations of the Traverse Theatre, where it was premiered. The stage at Traverse Theatre is very small and the audience is practically sitting on the footlights. Last year the Edinburgh’s Peoples Theatre, handed out wine during one performance and carried out one scene in the back seats of the stalls.

What is striking in this play is the similarity between another Festival production staged last year, Tom Paine. Which was performed by the highly controversial and very good La Mana Troupe. Both Burns and Paine are immersed in the common weal; one expresses this in poetry and song, the other in political rabblerousing.

Both were fired by the French Revolution and its hopes. Both hated the upper classes and the nobility. Not unnaturally these two people, living during the same time, might have had like attitudes, especially in pub scenes in both productions, presented to the audience in a similar fashion.

The human side of Burns: his revulsion with Edinburgh and disdain of the Kirk and the relish of the little fornicator, are well developed. Rather than a ‘haggis-bashing’, ploughman’s poet, Burns emerges as a complex character who would demand attention at any period in history. Cairney suggests he could easily have made a fine MP – in a Nye Bevan type government.

Naturally the play is not continuous deep insight; the humorous side is well developed. Cairney suggests that his recital of Tam O’Shanter is the one time that he actually acts during the play. I found it a most energetic, whip smart, humorous piece of acting.

To Lunch…Or Not to Lunch

That is the question. Buying something to eat at midday in Port Ellen seems to be a none-to- simple matter for the uninitiated. We met Mr and Mrs Cooper, day trippers who were exhausted after having tramped all over looking for somewhere to get a spot of lunch. Mrs Cooper said they had tried to purchase a couple of filled rolls from a shop that had remained open during the lunch hour. But in spite of the fact that the rolls were right in front of her the assistant behind the counter informed them, “they were all sold out.”

We thought we had struck lucky when we entered a restaurant to the smell of food being cooked. When we asked for a table we were told that the staff only cooked for themselves at lunchtime. Anyone else had to book a meal. We were offered cold drinks. Not even tea or coffee.

There is a lunch room in a hotel across the harbour which, unfortunately, gave us no indication inside or out as to what food it served, or at what price. Speaking later to a local at the ferry terminal; she told me they do soup, mains course, pudding, cheese and coffee for 12/6. ■