David Leddy's White Tea

There's always a play on the Fringe that would work on a stage, although it might seem slight, but where a particular atmosphere created in an unusual space makes it an unforgettable experience. This is one of those.

An audience of no more than 28 people file into a small room lined with white paper prayer flags. Around the walls are narrow benches and on each seat a white garment to be put on.

At first, a recorded description of the dropping of the first atom bomb led me to think of radiation protection and a heavily serious message play to come. But no, the garment was merely a kimono-style coat and we were each offered a cup of tea, oriental style.

Then came the first shock. The calm was shattered by Gabriel Quigley's rather gawky, disorganised Scots woman receiving a phone call saying that her estranged Japanese mother has suffered a stroke in Kyoto and she must fly over.

She refuses and suddenly a quiet, shy Japanese girl (Alisa Anderson) is in front of her, insisting on the journey. The two travel, not just to Japan but into the utterly alien world of Japanese customs and manners and the even more alien world of childhood memories. Secrets are revealed, tempers are lost and an ultimate quietude is reached.

The story is slight, the secrets are small, the atmosphere is all. We are held transfixed in that white space with its central low platform. We seem to become involved in the slow rituals. We share the shock of blaring Tokyo as lights and noise assault us.

The two performances are extraordinarily good and the way that Scottish gawkiness is allowed to shatter our own growing Japanese calm is often funny, shocking and annoying at the same time. The moment when Western awkwardness achieves Eastern grace by being clothed in a kimono is one of utterly heart-stopping beauty.

It's a good little play with fine performances turned into something special by the ambiance of the setting and the unique audience relationship created.