This is the story of Mad Sweeney, a Pagan King who rejected Christianity, fled from the noise of battle and was cursed to be a bird, living in the air until he dies. In this telling, by Martha Knight, Sweeney has taken over from the wren as the King of all Birds and we are on the hunt for the King who will replace Sweeney.

The hunt will go from ancient Ireland to the present day, and it alludes to the colonialisation of Ireland, by Christianity, by the Normans, by technology, by capitalism – even the view of a person’s house, once reserved for the birds, is for sale, photographed by carrier pigeons who will be abandoned, sold door-to-door, an aerial picture ‘of your house, in your house’.

Just as people colonise land, they colonise the air. Billed as a ‘love letter to flight,’ it’s a terrifying passion. Racing through the centuries we’re in the 20th with transatlantic crossings and gruesome deaths as planes crash to the ground, and flies mock spiders from space.

The shocking change in technology is reflected in the many renditions of the song ‘Wild Mountain Thyme’ that dominate the show. There’s a gentle, folky version, a rock version, an electronic version, each of them changing the atmosphere as the technology changed our way of life.

We’re bombarded with facts and incidents in a wry, shyly confident way by Knight, who effortlessly commands the stage and at one point gets on to a high table in one step which looks as if it should be impossible without wings.

The costumes have a self-assembled feel, all feathers, capes, and a jumpsuit. When we enter she’s in situ, her face covered by an alarming beak; the props are chiefly a book and a hat stand.

The DIY, children’s entertainer high spirits, swooping around the stage, looming over the audience her arms outstretched and arched like an eagle, the bitty accumulation of triumphs and disasters, is like a mummer leading the festivities only to remind us that something darker lurks behind the celebration.

On St Stephen’s Day, the 26th of December, a tiny Wren, the bird that outwitted the other birds to become King, is killed and paraded through the streets on a bed of holly, ivy, and tatty ribbons. At the centre of the singing, dancing, begging and drinking, is death. As the story of Sweeney ends, the new King of the Sky pulls away from an ordinary farmhouse, in a once thriving bog, watching over us all.

The King of the Birds is at Former Gents Locker Room at Summerhall until Mon 31 Aug 2026