When people make reference to legendary live performances, Nirvana’s 1993 MTV Unplugged concert will often get a mention. The haunting beauty of the music, the subdued, funereal atmosphere, the tragedy of it’s recording just months before the suicide of Kurt Cobain. It’s a powerful set, adorned with white lilies and candles, and one that Emma Frankland uses to frame a defiant show that delves into the intricacies and realities of the trans experience.
No Apologies uses the enduring internet conspiracy theories about Cobain being a trans woman as its focal point, but ultimately, this is not a show about Cobain’s trans identity. It doesn’t matter whether you buy into the discourse or not – No Apologies delves into the act of wishful thinking, deftly questioning the impact of what might have been.
Frankland is a captivating raconteur, her rousing monologues switching from conversational retelling to emphatic call to arms with a warmth that draws parallels between Cobain’s own Icarus-like journey and the choice to live one’s life authentically. The show’s direction, by Harry Clayton-Wright, and the arresting use of lighting and glitchy Nirvana samples throughout contribute to the overall noise, both physically in the room and more generally in reference to wider conversations around trans identity.
The elaborate chandelier, a recognisable motif from the Unplugged set, swings like a pendulum, its unsteady movement looming over Summerhall’s Anatomy Lecture Theatre like a harbinger of chaos. No Apologies is part-tribute and part-vigil, to the heroes we hold up high on pedestals, and the trans lives that deserve so much better.
No Apologies, Summerhall, until 24 Aug (not 5, 11, 18), 8.45pm