Have a Gander – HoneyBEE and MEAT

Returning to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe after a smash success in 2019, HoneyBEE pulls its audience into a gritty, sexy festival atmosphere with a banging soundtrack. Fleabag meets Kae Tempest, with a dash of dirty bass.

This marathon feat of gig theatre follows Kate as she flits & stumbles through her twenties fuelled by highs & hedonism. With a heady mix of music, stand-up and spoken word, Kate represents a generation’s search for purpose and the need to dance in the face of adversity.

HoneyBEE is Elle Dillon-Reams’ debut play, and won The Scotsman Best Newcomer Award and the ThreeWeeks Editor’s Award at Edinburgh Fringe 2019, and was even tattooed onto an audience member’s arm post-fringe. Elle also brings her brand-new show MEAT to the fringe, in a split-day double-bill alongside HoneyBEE. Across her work, Elle builds in responsible theatre-making practices and safeguarding that supports mental health in the arts – working with safeguarding consultants alongside the creative team to support herself and her audiences.

MEAT is an electrifying roar of fury, a rallying cry of protest and a unifying celebration of strength packed with heroism and heart. A playful and poignant exploration of identity, MEAT is conceived and performed by multi-award winner Elle Dillon-Reams.

The story follows ‘A girl’ from age 9 into her 30s, detailing her journey through puberty, misogyny, and identity. ‘A girl’ is all of us; a victim, a phoenix, a superhero. A dirty dive into the foundations of power, an injection of a new narrative – MEAT is a theatrical hybrid of poetry, clowning, cabaret and dance featuring original music.

Would you mind giving us a brief insight into what your show is?

My name is Elle Dillon-Reams, I’m a queer, neurodivergent artist originally from Brighton, bringing my two self-written solo shows HoneyBEE and MEAT up to Edfringe this year.

Tell us about the creative team and process involved?

The process for MEAT was a big elevation in my career, we were fortunate enough to receive ACE funding for an R&D which meant I was able to work with a brilliant team of creatives including musicians & composers Porscha Present and Rachel Barnes, a sound designer Xana, choreographer Chess Dillon-Reams, and had the magnificent Len Gwynn and Roann McCloskey at the helm as directors.

HoneyBEE was first written in 2018, then had a wonderful time debuting at Brighton then Edfringe in 2019. It was my first play, a spoken word solo show and won both the Three Weeks editors award and Best Newcomer from the Scotsman. We had big plans to nationally tour the piece in 2020, and managed one date at Storyhouse – and we all know what happened in 2020. I’m so excited to bring the show back, I wasn’t done with it in 2020 and am so proud to be giving it the audience it deserves and that it wants to dance with.

How does it feel coming to the Fringe?

I wanted to bring my work back to the Fringe since 2019 but due to the pandemic and the subsequent financial strain, I haven’t been able to. I was up last year with the brilliant Spies Like Us and knew the following year that it was time to bring my own writing up again. My plan was to bring two shows up to the Fringe as a double bill in 2020 so this August has been a long time
coming. I’m really excited, and nervous, but mainly really excited to be returning.

There are over 3,000 shows at the Fringe. So, what sets your show apart?

My work merges all my favourite live art forms Spoken word, Dance, Music, Movement, Stand Up, and storytelling. There is no set and limited props, but audiences are given a super high-energy show, always with the purpose to entertain, to bring joy, reflection, and hope.

Is there anything specific you’re hoping the audience will take away?

Empathy and understanding. A sense of community. I want to make work that makes people feel less alone. That starts conversations and asks questions. Work that transports audiences elsewhere, makes them want to give their inner child a cuddle and then play a game with them. Work that diminishes shame, alleviates it from festering in silence. Work that leaves audiences with hope. My art is activism, my art is an antidote to the hopeless.

Your ideal audience is in attendance, who’s watching? Or more importantly – who isn’t there…

HoneyBEE is for anyone who’s felt like they don’t belong anywhere like they’re the odd one out, and like everyone else seems to know what they’re doing. It’s set at a festival so expect glitter and dancing and portaloo poetry, and I hope it’ll leave you feeling hopeful. It’s for all 20-somethings and for anyone who’s ever been a 20-something. I think everyone could be done with being told they are enough. I’d love Billie Piper to come and watch, I think she’d enjoy the final track…

MEAT is a rallying cry of protest, an exploration of feeling like one’s own body is a commodity, a lack of autonomy, but takes you on a journey through the silly and bizarre, the weird and the funny. I want people to have an even balance of breaths, sighs, guttural cries and belly laughs. I want to start conversations and diminish shame. Anyone aged 14 and up should be there.

It’s an intense month, so where you’re able, how do you plan to relax, and are there any other shows you intend to see or want to recommend?

I’ll be making sure I get to yoga classes when I can and will be doing my own practice every morning as much for my mind as for my body.

Recommendations:
After the act by Breach Theatre
Jade Anouka at Roundabout
Voloz collective – silly brilliant physical theatre
High steaks by Eloina
Public by Stroud and Notes
Lucy & Friends
Bloody Elle is back at the traverse for a limited time (Read our five-star review)
There are some really exciting works as part of the horizon showcase.
Go to a ceilidh move your body
Go to the beach
Walk up Arthur’s seat

In your ideal world, how can we improve the world of the Fringe, of performance, and the industry?

The expectations on theatre workers be it performers, technicians, producers, directors, SMs etc. across the Fringe but also the industry is to work longer, harder, for less money if you “want it enough”. The pay doesn’t reflect the cost of living nor the hours put in. I wouldn’t have been able to take up a show that had more than one cast member in, if you’re working class it’s still a complete financial stretch/gamble/chokehold trying to come to the Fringe. The representation of voices is still an imbalance, and I’m worried under our current government that it will only get worse. It feels less of a platform for experimentation, and more that there’s an expectation to be the ‘next big thing’. I’d love there to be more funding, bursaries, and schemes to get marginalised voices involved, I’d love the accommodation and rent prices to have a cap, that would be an amazing start.