A death in the family can be a trying time for anyone. Particularly the death of someone who brought the whole clan together. For the characters of Singing Sands, this departed person is their grandmother.
Singing Sands is a gritty and true performance of grief, told in all its shades of delirium, pain, and hypocrisy. The actors breathe life into the difficult dynamics of a family with all the secrets and resentments of a real one. How do you divide up the furniture, possessions, mementos of a life which was so dear to you? How do you get past years of hurt and argument, now that you’ve reunited for the funeral of the one who brought you together in the first place?
Singing Sands shows these conflicts gracefully. The tiny setting on the isle of Eigg in the Hebrides is further narrowed to a single living room, a single cardboard box of possessions. A family kilt, a mostly empty bottle of whisky, a traditional song book: these are the talismans of daily Scottish life which the play trades in. Its highly localised approach to grief is effective- Oor Theatre has done an excellent job of making the drama feel lived in.
It’s relatable first and foremost. The sibling dynamic between estranged cousins is one that reminds me my own family. Overachiever eldest daughter, wildcard middle son, and dozy youngest child who everyone picks on. I’ll not spoil the ending, but it’s one that brought all of the emotions of the play together and sent me off on my way feeling very satisfied, wondering if I could find a way to sneak into their other sold out show this Fringe.
Singing Sands, Zoo Playground, 13:25, until August 25.
