Lesson time

As we entered 2008, much of the arts community resonated in response to the Arts Council England (ACE) cuts with an audible sound of relief, a collective “phew, thank God we’ve survived…” As this obscene culling of arts organisations took place I reflected on my own sense of ‘phew’, imbued by the knowledge of what it felt like to be cut. However, for some, the moment when they heard the light patter of the franked envelope popping through the letterbox was not one of relief but of pain. To be told that ACE, the flawed but very necessary development agency for the arts, no longer wants to invest in your organisation is at best discouraging, at worst humiliating. In reflecting on some of the lessons learnt from my disinvestment experience, my purpose is simple: to suggest alternative ways of turning a negative into a positive.

Moment of truth

On joining Snap Theatre Company in July 2005, my role was not only to take on the legacy of 25 years, but also to give the Company a new future. What I didn’t know was that within six weeks of starting my job, and as a result of a review and a plan to create a new regional theatre plan for children and young people, our funding was going to be cut from the beginning of the next financial year. We decided to look at this as an opportunity. As David Jubb (Artistic Director of Battersea Arts Centre) puts it, “Treat it like a chapter in a story rather than an act of war.”

The decision to disinvest was for the right reasons – poor quality work, which reflected a lack of vision and leadership – though the process towards the decision had, of course, been less than transparent. Perhaps this is the first thing to reflect on: focusing less on the dysfunctional process and more on the reasons why. Hand on heart, how many of us in our community were surprised by some of the recent decisions? Should we be asking ourselves what stopped us from warning our colleagues of this potential outcome? Has it really taken Brian McMaster to reveal how poor we are at being honest and frank with our peers? Except of course when it comes to putting our work on the stage, when we become revealing and direct in stunning and imaginative ways.

At Snap we reflected on what had happened. In order to survive, we had taken on a lot of what I call ‘social engineering’ projects. Ensuring that young people understand good sexual health practice was and still is essential, but so is creating brilliant theatre. By chasing the local authority pound, the company had diluted its artistic vision. Chasing the funding is bad practice, and it leads to bad art. Snap needed to regenerate the artistic vision and win the tender to become the new regional beacon organisation for young people in the east. We had a vision about placing young people at the heart of the theatre-making process: a vision which would place research and development at the roots of our new evolving organisation. We admitted that the old way hadn’t worked, not because an Arts Council review said so, but because it was true.

Who your friends are…

We needed allies to realise that vision: people and organisations who would bring expertise and resources. The lesson here is to get on your bike and find partners. If we were to survive and grow, then we needed to shrug off the shame and be positive about the future. Our strategy and carbon footprint were not well researched. We drove 6,000 miles and met 46 organisations in just three months. A lot of time was spent in the company of well-meaning people who normally ended our meeting by saying “sounds great, we haven’t got any money but do let us know how you get on”. Despite this we found three. First, Greenwich and Lewisham Young People’s Theatre (GLYPT) wanted to create theatre for young people which reflected the culture of the young. We saw the benefit of combining our skills and infrastructure. Our relationship with GLYPT continues, which proves that it wasn’t just about mutual convenience: GLYPT now tours outside of its south-east London confines. Second, Hertfordshire County Council funds us to be a beacon arts organisation. We aren’t asked to be a tool of social engineering: they understand that ultimately it’s about creating great new theatre. Lastly, the most fascinating relationship is with the University of Hertfordshire’s Faculty for the Creative and Cultural Industries (UHCCI). UHCCI is an academic organisation with an ethos which is outward facing to the world of business. It has become evident that the world of higher education and that of the creative industries are inextricably linked: education and employment in the creative industries must work in harness. If we are to achieve our mission of making great new theatre for, by and with young audiences, we have to find resources that allow us to do so. Higher Education could provide those resources.

Learning the lessons

What were the lessons learnt from the development of these relationships? Firstly, keep an open mind, listen and you may hear an idea that chimes with your ambitions. Don’t be fixed in what the future may look like, and allow yourself to be surprised. We never envisaged a relationship with higher education. Without an entrepreneurial approach we probably would never have developed one. It is immensely important to have a vision, but do allow others to shape it with you.

We are a community, but we often fail to extol the importance of what we do. To regenerate our vision, we were forced to demonstrate a moral imperative: young people aren’t just the audiences of the future, they are the cultural leaders of the future. It was crucial that our board understood this. Our Chair, Tim Freathy, understood that it wasn’t enough to be merely fiduciary. He used every strategic bone in his body, every contact in his phone book, to create a momentum towards Snap evolving into Theatre Is. The lesson? Boards should be about vision, not about book-keeping.