 “Was Kurt Cobain trans?” That was the unforgettable description of a show I first heard about back in June at the Summerhall Fringe Festival launch. It instantly sold me.
A few months later, on the first Friday of the festival, I made my way to the Summerhall venue to finally experience it for myself. Aside from that brilliant hook, all I knew was that it was inspired by Nirvana’s iconic 1993 MTV Unplugged performance. So it was disheartening to arrive and find that not everyone shared that same curiosity or excitement. A poster outside Summerhall had been vandalised specifically, the words “Was Kurt trans?” ripped out. It was a stark reminder of the hostile environment trans performers still face. The festival was only hours old, and already the vile transphobic backlash had started. The show takes place in the Anatomy Lecture Theatre, an intimate, rounded space where the audience looks down onto a small stage scattered with acoustic guitars and flowers. For anyone familiar with the original Unplugged set, the atmosphere felt instantly immersive and emotionally loaded. Then Emma Frankland takes the stage, channelling Kurt Cobain so completely from the dirty-blonde hair and lean frame to the same iconic outfit worn that night in 1993. At first, it feels like we might be in for a faithful recreation. But that illusion is quickly dismantled. What follows is something far more powerful: a genre-defying, intermedia performance blending live music, movement, poetry, and pyrotechnics. It’s raw, political, emotional and unforgettable. For someone like Emma growing up in the 90s, Kurt Cobain was a deeply resonant figure and a trans inspiration in a time before trans visibility took cultural root. Cobain disrupted rigid norms of gender and masculinity with raw defiance and disarming tenderness. Frankland highlights a famous quote where Cobain said, "I feel closer to the feminine side of the human being than I do the male—or the American idea of what a male is supposed to be." In his openness about wearing dresses, their fondness for queer culture, and his fierce rejection of macho posturing--"I’m not gay, although I wish I were, just to piss off homophobes,"--they carved out a kind of gender nonconforming space that hadn’t yet found language in mainstream discourse. As the show moves on, it doesn’t stay in that gentle acoustic space. It evolves, shifting into louder, punk-infused territory that is gritty, angry, and full of fight. This transition feels deliberate, reflecting not just Cobain’s journey but the lived reality of many trans people today. It’s hard not to draw a line between his death at 27 and the devastating statistics around how many trans lives are cut short through violence, suicide, or systemic neglect. The second half of the show channels that energy: urgent, unapologetic, and electric with frustration. It’s both a tribute and a release carrying the weight of grief for those no longer here. The result is a performance that’s deeply personal but also taps into something collective—a grunge rock howl for every lost sister, brother, and person whose story didn’t get a chance to unfold and a "fuck you" to those who would deny their existence. 5/5 Lee Hutchison No Apologises Venue: Summerhall Dates: July 31st - August 24th Time: 2045 Tickets: https://festival.summerhallarts.co.uk/events/no-apologies/ |
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