Hare and the Hedgehog | Get Your Coats On

“You have to take silly really seriously to make such magic happen.”

Children’s theatre is hard because you have to make it look easy. I once saw newsreel footage of Her Late Majesty inspecting preparations for a sumptuous banquet at Buckingham Palace. Wow, tough crowd. Britain’s longest-reigning monarch was not easily impressed. There was a cake which, a breathless royal watcher solemnly intoned, had taken a team of top bakers and pastry chefs so long to make that several of those bowing and scrapping in the royal presence were the children or grandchildren of the original egg crackers. There was enough gold leaf to Goldfinger a hippopotamus, more layers than a Scandinavia crime drama, and icing as intricate as the plaster cornicing in Brighton Pavillion. HM smiled thinly, nodded and passed on. Ostentatious and insincere displays of emotion were not her thing. The same applies to children for whom everything is a wonder and so nothing is a wonder. It takes a Merlin to captivate such open and shut little minds.

We enter to find Andy Lawrence looking younger than he did 12 months ago. This is a man around who time and space happily bend. As my brood of chicks grows, I am more and more impressed by those saints among us who can turn a gaggle of noisy brats into a gathering of earnest ears, eager to absorb the erudition coming at them. You have to take silly really seriously to make such magic happen and Andy’s tales are gorgeously silly – as light and fluffy as a cake fit for a queen. It looks effortless, but packed into each of Andy’s daily 40-minute Bedfringe morning sessions is the cumulated effort of years of storytelling, puppetry, stagecraft, and experience. Time bends. It folds neatly into a wizard’s bag of tricks.

Daughter 1.0 (8 years) wrote the following in her notebook, the one with sequins stitched onto the cover so that they show a rainbow when rubbed one way and a frog, sitting on a toadstool, playing what I think is a flageolet, on the other.

“Today I went to The Hare and the Heghog. At the front there was some cushions for children to sit on. On stange there was an old wooden chest an old seet and a few music boxes.

He lold a story of a heghog Who beat a Havisham hair in a race and how Havisham hair became kind.

I liked when he used Strings to make the hair move along, I also liked when he got big funny ears to make him look like the hair.

Last year and yesterday I saw pigs and bears don’t come in pairs. Pigs and bears don’t come in pairs is a show of two stories “the three little pigs” and “Goldieloks and the three bears” And I liked seeing the same man doing another funny show.”

Someone somewhere once described heaven as waking up each morning to a fresh P. G. Wodehouse novel on the bedside table. They neglected to follow up by saying that the next item on the agenda of eternal bliss is a saunter down to Bedfringe with your angels to watch Andy Lawrence doing something divine, bringing the young and the young at heart together in another masterclass in the power of theatre.