300 PAINTINGS
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
★★★★
“compelling, funny, and, at times, quietly challenging”
Sam Kissajukian opens 300 Paintings by telling us he is quitting comedy to become an artist. It is a ridiculous premise, he admits, and one that becomes the launchpad for a fast-paced, funny, and unexpectedly thoughtful hour that straddles stand-up, TED Talk, and autobiographical theatre.
In 2021, during a six-month manic episode, Kissajukian created 300 paintings, unknowingly documenting his mental state through the process. The show charts this period and its aftermath, skipping at speed through his evolving artistic styles, obsessions, and experiments. One recurring joke is just how quickly he abandons each new phase in pursuit of the next, a habit both comic and revealing. His philosophy, he tells us, is quantity over quality.
The set-up could feel minimal – just Kissajukian, a projection screen, and his story – but his charisma more than fills the space. He knows how to land a punchline, how to keep a rhythm, and how to pull the audience along even when the journey veers from art-world satire into something stranger and more personal. His recounting of a phase in his journey to create 30 inventions in 30 days, and eventually securing a $10,000 investment, is both absurd and oddly moving, throwing up questions about what art is, how we measure its value, and how business and creativity intersect.
There is a self-awareness here about form, too. Kissajukian uses the tools of stand-up to deliver a show that is not quite stand-up, playing with audience expectations of comedy while giving us something closer to a storytelling lecture. The effect is both disarming and refreshing, and it gives space for more serious reflections to land.
Those reflections are often on mental health, specifically his experience of bipolar disorder. At points, he shows us the symptoms of bipolar and depression, triggering that familiar audience reflex of self-diagnosis, only to turn it on its head with a comment about the creative peaks such states can sometimes bring. It opens up a fascinating tension: how far should we push ourselves for our art, and is great work worth it if it comes at the cost of wellbeing?
The simplicity of the staging keeps the focus firmly on Kissajukian as a storyteller. There is a thrill in watching someone take such big risks, not just in the work he makes, but in the way he shares it. His willingness to embrace absurdity and to place his mental health experiences at the centre of his art makes for an hour that is compelling, funny, and, at times, quietly challenging.
There are moments when the pace dips, but the overall effect is one of openness and curiosity, a show that invites us to think about art and mental health not as separate concerns but as intertwined processes. It is messy, human, and really very funny.
300 PAINTINGS
Edinburgh Festival Fringe
Reviewed on 10th August 2025 at Main Hall at Summerhall
by Joseph Dunitz
Photography by Limor Garfinkle
