Daniel Kitson, ‘After the Beginning, Before the
End’
(seen at Toomler 24 June, 2013)
(seen at Toomler 24 June, 2013)
http://www.danielkitson.com/Site/Kitson.html
Daniel Kitson has a bit of a cult following, particularly among the cult called 'Comedians.' When it was announced that he’d be playing a one-off of his show in Amsterdam on a Monday, the word spread as quickly as the expectations. He did not disappoint.
‘After the Beginning, Before the End’ features Kitson,
sitting onstage behind a couple samplers. He accompanies himself with a
minimalist soundtrack. His through-line is a recorded line of dialogue that
gets longer every time. Technically, it wasn’t ‘stand-up comedy.’ It was much
closer to what the Dutch would call ‘Cabaret,’ to what many people would call
‘performance art.’ It reminded me of the shows I’d go see in Edinburgh: early
Simon Munnery or Noble & Silver.
To start things off, Kitson analyzes time-honored aphorisms,
such as ‘You can’t take it with you’ and gets strong laughs:
‘They say “You can’t take it with you.” Meaning you can’t
take your money with you, and you should spend more time on your loving
relationships. But you know what else you can’t take with you? Loving
relationships.’ After setting up & knocking down a number of them, Kitson
concludes: ‘If it’s snappy, it’s crappy.’
Kitson thus begins the wonderful theme of his show, which is
to question everything. His show felt like a comedy version of Rene Descartes
presenting ‘Discourse on the Method:’ all we truly know is we are thinking at
this moment ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Kitson questions if his own feelings
about people are genuine. Are his feelings about himself genuine? Is his
definition of self at all accurate? Why do people remember things about him
that he’s edited out long ago? Miraculously, Kitson manages to tease out the
Big Questions into genuine laughs. It’s like Louis CK’s bit with his daughter
asking him ‘Why?’ But in this show Kitson is doing the asking. And he really
does not stop.
What is The Self?
‘My definition of Self is based on a collection of memories.
Which ones do I keep? And which ones do I conveniently edit out?’
He encounters a new fizzy drink, which he likes but doesn’t
know why. He stops and meditates and realizes it’s because of a memory he’d shut
out long ago, involving him essentially sucking on garbage.
At one point Kitson even admits he may have taken his
self-analysis too far:
‘I bought a video projector and one of the bulbs broke. So I
decided to take it all apart and see how it worked. And after I took the
not-appropriate tool and had all the pieces spread out across my living room
rug with some key pieces missing, I realized I’d never be able to put it all
together again. Now it sits in a box in my loft gathering dust. I feel like
I’ve done the same thing with my psyche.’
What is Truth? If everyone experiences everything
differently, how can there be any universal truth? Is there any such thing as
objectivity, when everyone’s version of events is so hopelessly corrupted by
selective memory?
The show ends with the conclusion of the through-line story,
whose narrator is – of course – unreliable. At least that’s the way Kitson
remembers it.
It was a great show, and apparently he’s only got a couple
performances left. Thankfully there were so many members of the Amsterdam
comedy scene on hand to witness it. He raised the bar for everyone.
(seen at Toomler 24 June, 2013)
Daniel Kitson has a bit of a cult following, particularly among the cult of comedians. When it was announced that he’d be playing his one-off of his show in Amsterdam on a Monday, the word spread as quickly as the expectations. He did not disappoint.
‘After the Beginning, Before the End’ features Kitson,
sitting onstage behind a couple samplers. He accompanies himself with a
minimalist soundtrack. His through-line is a recorded line of dialogue that
gets longer every time. Technically, it wasn’t ‘stand-up comedy.’ It was much
closer to what the Dutch would call ‘Cabaret,’ to what many people would call
‘performance art.’ It reminded me of the shows I’d go see in Edinburgh: early
Simon Munnery or Noble & Silver.
To start things off, Kitson analyzes time-honored aphorisms,
such as ‘You can’t take it with you’ and gets strong laughs:
‘They say “You can’t take it with you.” Meaning you can’t
take your money with you, and you should spend more time on your loving
relationships. But you know what else you can’t take with you? Loving
relationships.’ After setting up & knocking down a number of them, Kitson
concludes: ‘If it’s snappy, it’s crappy.’
Kitson thus begins the wonderful theme of his show, which is
to question everything. His show felt like a comedy version of Rene Descartes
presenting ‘Discourse on the Method:’ all we truly know is we are thinking at
this moment ‘I think, therefore I am.’ Kitson questions if his own feelings
about people are genuine. Are his feelings about himself genuine? Is his
definition of self at all accurate? Why do people remember things about him
that he’s edited out long ago? Miraculously, Kitson manages to tease out the
Big Questions into genuine laughs. It’s like Louis CK’s bit with his daughter
asking him ‘Why?’ But in this show Kitson is doing the asking. And he really
does not stop.
What is The Self?
‘My definition of Self is based on a collection of memories.
Which ones do I keep? And which ones do I conveniently edit out?’
He encounters a new fizzy drink, which he likes but doesn’t
know why. He stops and meditates and realizes it’s because of a memory he’d shut
out long ago, involving him essentially sucking on garbage.
At one point Kitson even admits he may have taken his
self-analysis too far:
‘I bought a video projector and one of the bulbs broke. So I
decided to take it all apart and see how it worked. And after I took the
not-appropriate tool and had all the pieces spread out across my living room
rug with some key pieces missing, I realized I’d never be able to put it all
together again. Now it sits in a box in my loft gathering dust. I feel like
I’ve done the same thing with my psyche.’
What is Truth? If everyone experiences everything
differently, how can there be any universal truth? Is there any such thing as
objectivity, when everyone’s version of events is so hopelessly corrupted by
selective memory?
The show ends with the conclusion of the through-line story,
whose narrator is – of course – unreliable. At least that’s the way Kitson
remembers it.
It was a great show, and apparently he’s only got a couple
performances left. Thankfully there were so many members of the Amsterdam
comedy scene on hand to witness it. He raised the bar for everyone.