Somebody I Used to Know

Apparently, we can only cope with a finite number of close friends at any one time. To make room for someone new, someone else has to be bumped down the list. Everything I Own’s intimate, one-on-one show prods its single audience member into thinking about those friends who got left behind, the onetime best mates who have drifted away.

For theatre-maker Claire Gaydon, that person was Andrew: a floppy fringed, cigarette smoking drummer who went to drama club. Hunkered in a sort of den, walls plastered with posters and drawings, Gaydon shares sweets, spirits and anecdotes. She recalls her and Andrew’s first meeting aged 14, their friendship in the following years, and their gradual estrangement as they entered adulthood.  

It’s familiar stuff, heavily scented with nostalgia, but endearing nonetheless. The one-on-one format, meanwhile, has the advantage of inherently questioning the nature of human connection. Performer and audience member are close, but remain separated by an invisible barrier. Through both content and form, Somebody I Used to Know asks how much we can ever really understand another person and tests the links we forge between one another.

This all gains another dimension in the age of social media. We might have hundreds of Facebook friends, but how many are we truly friendly with? Somebody I Used to Know dips little more than a toe into this territory. But the brief, sweet pause it offers in the middle of the Fringe is a welcome chance to think about those we know and have known.