Daniel Kitson unveils new show at Latitude Festival As well as learning that Robin Ince once took ecstasy in a field, one of the key things Latitude taught me is that even when Daniel Kitson hasn't got a show ready, he's still got a show. Billed as "work-in-progress," his 90-minute appearance at the Theatre Arena on Sunday, the highlight of the weekend in my book, largely consisted of a series of ad-libbed asides, mainly fuelled by the constant audience coming-and-going that the festival is prey to. To be fair, more people were trying to get into the packed tent than were trying to leave, allowing him to quip "You build it, I'll fill it" but he had better entertainment at the expense of those trying to slip away, reaping five minutes of gold interacting with a guy in shades who went backwards and forwards across the auditorium, in the face of a growing chorus of derision, as he struggled to locate the (obvious) exit. True to form his as yet untitled new work, which premieres at the Manchester Royal Exchange in the autumn (Sept 11 - 21, royalexchange.co.uk) and will tour next year, has gone on sale surrounded by a dearth of information: "There is currently no running time, no marketing copy, no programme image," runs the blurb on the website. It'll sell-out anyway, no doubt, long before it's been written, a task Kitson is undertaking over August, while much of the rest of the comedy world is toiling away in Edinburgh. We got a taster of the first page or so of dialogue, involving a man at the bottom of a tree talking to a character further up in the branches (out of sight) protesting against, and protecting it from, a neighbourhood campaign of felling. He would probably play the bloke in the tree, to spare him getting into costume, Kitson advised us, as he peered at the script on his laptop. If I said it sounded promising enough so far, from what I'd heard, this would be of no reassurance to the writer. "We all know what we've just experienced," he wryly suggested as he wrapped up, aware of the "the ocean of sh*t I have to wade through." It's a brave artist who shares not just an idea but a vulnerable work-in-embryo; most would leave such an exposing event with their head in their hands. Not Kitson, though, chuckling his way through the ordeal, and giving a textbook example of how theatre-makers shouldn't take themselves and their work too seriously, at least in public. "I'm a legend!" he joshed, mock-arrogantly, at one point. No kidding.