EdFringe Review: Chopin’s Nocturne

I last caught Aidan Jones at the Fringe in 2019, the year before lockdown reintroduced him to the piano and Frédéric Chopin. Well, if he was a good comedian before, this classical Renaissance has boosted him to a whole new level.

Which is an odd thing to write about a Stand-Up set based upon Chopin’s Nocturne in Eb Major, but here we are. However, whilst he walks on stage in wig and morning suit, he begins the hour as his own warm-up act.

For 5-10 minutes, he introduces himself, starting with teenage dreams of a career in music, before 14 sackings and the no-experience-needed hobby of recreational drug use. He gets the audience laughing plenty with his final day at Coles supermarket, before launching into a tip-top bit imagining a government support service for the recently dumped.

The self-described “bald, Australian dickhead with a beard” then starts talking about Chopin, and the set becomes something very special indeed. Because as he starts pulling notes and sequences from the Nocturne, he begins riffing on everything from the comforting “Cord of Home” to intrusive thoughts. Here’s the ‘what if I stabbed my flatmate?’ question notes, followed by the ‘of course, I don’t want to do that!’ phrase.

Simultaneously, he’s laying down a colourful biography of Chopin, pointing to his Parisian exile from his beloved Poland, and the physical frailty which limited his capacity to perform. Chopin didn’t have the strength to play big concerts.

This show, he says, only exists because he’s taken a leaf out of Chopin’s book and stopped worrying about playing the biggest rooms or making the most commercially viable work. Hence, he’s playing a morning slot at Summerhall and talking about the synergy between right and left-hand melodies.

This being Aidan Jones, he doesn’t let the set fly away to highbrow heights, however. There’s a long-running gag using sections of the Nocturne to describe a drunk’s train journey, and tossing in cheeky Hip Hop references. Then there’s the story of Chopin’s contemporary, Hector Berlioz’s planned triple-murder-suicide, to highlight the problems with self-pity. Sure, he let’s some of the bits run a bit too long, but it’s nothing egregious.

“Well, if he was a good comedian before, this classical Renaissance has boosted him to a whole new level.“

All the way, he’s consistently pulling the Nocturne apart to show everyone his favourite bits, and to explain in relatable terms, what makes it tick.

Overall, it’s a delightful mix, well-structured, full of laughs, and genuinely interesting. It turns out that when Aidan Jones stops worrying about making the audience laugh all the time, the payoff is better quality schtick. Now he’s free to share his revelation of the importance of C-flat to the Nocturne and have the audience cheer for him.

He saves some of his best for last, though, when he introduces Francisco Goya to the mix, based on a trip to an art gallery. Once you’ve popped Chopin, why stop there? Cue a really cracking bit on Goya’s brother-in-law, who turns out to be another hero of Aidan’s. Cue a recreation of ‘Saturn Devouring His Son, ‘ an audience won’t soon forget!

You also have to salute the sheer showmanship of teasing the Nocturne in snippets throughout before closing with the whole piece played through with buckets of feel. Technically perfect it may not be, but it’s still the most satisfying end to a Fringe show as you’re likely to find this year.