HAMLET – WAKEFULNESS

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“an intriguing piece, and certainly inhabits new territory for adaptations”

A prequel to Shakespeare’s Hamlet comes to this year’s Edinburgh Fringe, courtesy of Poland’s Theatre of the Goat (Teatr Pieśń Kozła). This is Hamlet as you’ve never seen it, although never heard it, might be a better description. This work is all about the impressive singing that is the distinguishing feature of this company, under the direction of Grzegorz Bral. In sixty minutes or so in the Main Hall at Summerhall, Hamlet – Wakefulness provides a full throated meditation on “wakefulness”. As director Bral explains before the show begins, it’s an awakening to the imagined events on the night that old King Hamlet dies. It is also a mourning, a “wake” for the old King, two months before the events of Shakespeare’s play begin.

Teatr Pieśń Kozła’s was founded in the late 1990’s in Wrocław by Bral and Anna Zubrzycka. It often takes classics by Shakespeare, Euripides and others as a starting point for its explorations. Supported by anthropological and ethnomusicological fieldwork, the company focuses on ancient rituals. These rituals focus on polyphonic laments. Over the years, the company has developed its own specialized techniques for training the voices of its performers, and the result is a distinctive sound that provides great insight into the sacred practices of ancient cultures.

It’s important to approach Hamlet – Wakefulness through the music, rather than the play. Other than a few references to speeches such as “Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I” and a defamiliarization of familiar characters, there’s not much relationship to Shakespeare’s Hamlet. This is not so much a drama, as a liturgy, or even an opera. What catches our attention at the beginning of the show is the setting. There’s a hint of a bed for old Hamlet to lie in state upon, and silver chairs with a vague nod to Scottish symbolism in design, and cleverly constructed to hide swords. The only musical instrument on stage is the Swedish nyckelharpa. This production is nothing but eclectic in its sources for inspiration.

The production hints at Hamlet, no more. We are introduced to Gertrude and Hamlet in a sketch of the closet scene, and it’s Gertrude’s scene, make no mistake. “Hamlet is mad” she proclaims at several points, and her declaration successfully sidelines her son in favour of her new husband. When Claudius isn’t confronting someone in the cast, he is conducting the chorus—often at the same time. And in any case, a hint of Hamlet is fine, because the singing is remarkable. It may well have its origins in the laments women have sung at wakes since ancient times, as director Bral explains, but the music will also remind you of the chants of monks. There is a profoundly spiritual feel to this version of Shakespeare’s story of incest, murder and revenge. Best to let go of expectations, and just lose yourself in the song.

Hamlet – Wakefulness is an intriguing piece, and certainly inhabits new territory for adaptations from Shakespeare. If choral singing is important to you, and you’re intrigued by the idea of a Polish performance company that is justifiably celebrated for its unique approach to ancient music and classic texts, you’ll get a lot out of this show. You’ll carry the sound, and the spirituality, out of the theatre, and on your journey home.

HAMLET – WAKEFULNESS

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

Reviewed on 11th August 2025 at Main Hall at Summerhall

by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Dagmara Przeradzka

HAMLET

★★★

“The subject matter is urgent, and the personal lens has real potential”

Beth Paterson’s one-woman autobiographical show Niusia is built from fragments: family memories, inherited stories, and Holocaust history. It centres on her grandmother, Niusia, a Holocaust survivor who was, in Beth’s words, both heroic and “a b*tch.” The material holds undeniable weight. We learn that Niusia was born in Warsaw, later moved to Australia, and survived in part through her medical training, which led her to work under Nazi physician Josef Mengele. Alongside this history runs Beth’s complicated relationship with her own Jewishness, emphasising the “ish” in “Jewish,” and her memories of Saturday morning visits to her grandmother.

The form is collage-like. Moments about Jewish identity sit beside sections on Nazi atrocities and observations on intergenerational trauma. In theory, this fragmented structure could mirror the challenge of piecing together a family history when the person at its centre is no longer here to tell it. In practice, the show struggles to find a framework that can hold these pieces together. Without a clear through-line, it becomes difficult to track where we are in the journey or why each section arrives when it does.

Much of the delivery is heavily scripted and polished, which creates a distance between performer and audience. In a piece about discovery and memory, it can be powerful to feel as though the performer is working things out in real time, even if they are not. Here, Beth often appears to already know all the answers, which makes the storytelling feel more like a lecture than a shared experience. For a show that seems to promise a journey of learning, there is little sense of surprise or genuine exploration.

Some of the contradictions in the text are intriguing but not fully resolved. Early on, Beth claims to know very little about Judaism, yet throughout she uses Jewish terminology and makes cultural references that suggest a deeper familiarity. This could be an interesting tension to explore, but as it stands it comes across as inconsistent rather than intentional.

That said, there are moments of connection. The idea of a survivor who rejected spirituality, who was angry with both God and her faith, is compelling and could be a powerful anchor for the show. The honesty in calling her grandmother “a b*tch” sits alongside love and respect in a way that avoids easy sentimentality. And the collage form, if more clearly framed, could reflect the messy process of cultural inheritance: the odd blend of trauma, affection, ritual, and the gaps where questions have gone unasked.

As it stands, Niusia feels caught between forms. A clearer sense of Beth’s perspective, a more deliberate structure, and more space for discovery in the performance could help the audience engage with both the history and the person telling it. The subject matter is urgent, and the personal lens has real potential. With a stronger framework, the fragments could come together into something both moving and memorable.

Tag Archives: Summerhall

HAMLET – WAKEFULNESS

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

HAMLET – WAKEFULNESS

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

“an intriguing piece, and certainly inhabits new territory for adaptations”