Thought-provoking poetic theatre interrogating Scottish history.
A single finger of shortbread hangs limply over the stage. You expect it to be torn down in righteous anger at the Scottish stereotyping that plagues art created about Scotland – but instead, our narrator cheekily helps himself to his own, dunked in tea, hidden behind a majestic (cardboard) stag.
Through the Shortbread Tin isn’t a show about the black and white – it’s an intricate cross-examination of the murky truths and deceptions behind not only James MacPherson’s 1766 poetic epic Ossian, but himself and the Scotland of now. While Ossian may have been a fabrication, one of the greatest deceits of literary history, its impact rang true for so many people. It helped kickstart a returned feeling of Scottishness that had been cowed into submission after Culloden and the suppression of Scottish culture – and doesn’t that mean so much more, even if it is a lie?
Writer and performer Martin O’Conner’s verse guide us through the blended timelines of himself, MacPherson, and Ossian with humour and power, absolutely nailing all the collective hang-ups held by both Scots and outsiders (“Scots are funny, but they’re just not happy”). His verse is cheeky, clever, and unexpected, deftly switching from Ossian quotations, history, and monologues, calling out issues like masculine emotional repression and feeling a lack of connection to your own culture and language. The different sections of the narrative are connected and underscored with a beautiful a capella Gaelic trio of Josie Duncan, Claire Frances MacNeil, and Mairi Morrison, whose lilting songs sound angelic and powerful by turns, along with an occasional sly bit of humour.
For me, the show felt slightly let down by Lu Kemp’s staging. The movement was so pared back it felt lacklustre and robotic at times, with the cast stuck in formation, waiting for their next cue to move again. There were good moments such as when we’re told Macpherson is in a bar as the toast of the literary world, when the trio of singers line up on bar stools, beers in hand, inviting us into his space; or the excellent interactions between O’Connor and Katherine King, an on-stage BSL interpreter who is as much a comedic sidekick as a translator – but on the whole, it lacked movement and motivation for such an expressive, wide-ranging script.
The other issue was that the show had come to its finale – only for there to be at least another 20 minutes of show. I loved the final emotional beat when O’Connor finally expresses his feelings to his granddad in Gaelic in his granddad’s native tongue – but it whimpers away after that, neither triumphant nor wistful. The story of Scotland, whether true or myth, needs to go out with a bang.
Through the Shortbread Tin is thought-provoking, constantly pulling the rug from under you, making you reexamine your relationship to both your own story and that of Scotland. I had never heard of Ossian before this show, and it’s a great show for people who haven’t heard of Ossian and want to interrogate why they haven’t. It doesn’t veer into nationalist jingoism, it doesn’t allow Scottish culture to be seen as lesser – it’s a carefully walked tightrope, finding something true in a muddle of mythology.