Nothing to lose

The Edinburgh Fringe almost collapsed this year. A major box office system failure meant that the public could not buy the tickets they wanted, and emergency measures were put in place which only partially worked. This seems to have had the consequence that some of the audience stayed away. Guest houses on the Newington Road had ‘vacancies’ signs up in the second week, an unprecedented happening. But throughout this, one institution prospered, and without being immodest, I founded it. That institution is the Free Fringe, and I include in the movement the various spin-offs that now exist, independent of the core Free Fringe but running shows on the same ‘free admission to the public; no charges to the artists’ principle. Audiences at these shows have been full or nearly full throughout. It all started in 1996, with a single show. It seemed obvious to me at the time that, if an artist was unknown, he/she would get nowhere by charging the same price as established artists. No amount of publicity would remedy that imbalance. If you’re the only show in town, then maybe people will see you. If you’re one of 2,000 shows, or let’s say 150 at the same time of day, no chance. And if your work depends on interaction with the audience, as most comedy and much theatre does, then low audience numbers affect the artistic quality of what you do.

Bucketing the trend

At the Edinburgh Fringe, almost all shows run at a loss, usually four or five figures. But can you run at a low price without increasing your loss? The answer depends on infrastructure. If you are renting a space that has been purpose-rigged for all types of performance, and have technical and front-of-house support, then reason demands that you should pay a price that covers the costs. But what if you don’t need this? If the only spaces in town are elaborately rigged, and you don’t need that rigging, then your money is wasted. So, you do what the pioneers of the Fringe did in 1947, and find alternative spaces. If you’re charging anything at all, you need an infrastructure. You need tickets, you need stewards. But if you charge nothing, all you need is a bucket for the collection at the end. That’s how we started. We found rooms in pubs where the landlords would be satisfied with the extra takings from drink sales, we borrowed PAs, we trained domestic spotlights on to the stage, and away we went. Well, I say ‘we’; it was one show in the first year, and I learned as I went along. The public, who would have sat stonily at a £10 performance waiting to be entertained, instead forgave the mistakes, for they had paid nothing and there was a rapport between them and the performers. And when they forgive your mistakes, your mistakes become fun and not disasters. That was 1996. In 2008, we (the Free Fringe itself) presented 115 shows and 1,973 performances. My calculation is that in total, free shows, excluding religious events and other things that are free for different reasons, now make up 15% of the Edinburgh Fringe. This is only the beginning. Edinburgh in August has strange economics. I wouldn’t encourage free shows if it meant the artists were getting less reward. Almost nobody makes a profit on the Fringe, but Free Fringers can break even or make a modest loss in hundreds; they could have lost thousands at the money venues with the same show. The Free Fringe represents a better and fairer deal for performers. They pay, not in money, but in helping each other by communal leafleting and rudimentary front-of-house duties.

Widening horizons

Our roots are in comedy. Most of our programme is still comedy. But in 2009 we’ll make a serious expansion into other artforms. We are already putting on theatre, with seven shows in an unused floor of a former government office, now reborn as Art’s (sic) Complex. I thought that was an error of punctuation, but it turns out to be quite a profound statement. Next year we hope to have more such venues, as our profile raises and the citizens of Edinburgh are more on side with what we do. We get offers of help and indications of available space from them. My hopes are to have theatre, poetry and storytelling, and eventually music, each in their own space(s).

How big can this grow? I think very big, though not, perhaps, the bits under my direct control. There’s a limit to this: as soon as you start to employ people you become ‘An Organisation’, and as soon as you become ‘An Organisation’, you have to charge your members. When you do that, they are entitled to demand service. We would soon become what the mega-venues have become, and this we must avoid. In our comedy section, we pledge ‘no charges to artists, not even voluntary ones’. For theatre, we have had to vary this so that the costs of rigging a dedicated space are shared between the companies. We will in future accept sponsorship for a space (‘this venue provided and rigged by Megabrand Inc.’) but not for the organisation as a whole, which will remain independent.

Dream vs reality

Other free initiatives, independent of us, will arise, as they have this year. We welcome this, as long as they’re ethical and artist-centred. There are some performers who’ll never work for free – and why should they if they can sell tickets and make a profit on their runs? But these people, at the Edinburgh Fringe, are in the minority. For many of the rest, their profit calculations are based on hope, not reality. They dream of a single good review creating packed houses and queues; riches and fame ensue. It is in fact these hope-dreams which finance most of the Fringe, and make people pay for venues that, in a cold hard light, they have no hope of selling out. If people swap their dreams of ‘Fame! I’m Gonna Live For Ever’ for an aspiration to come to Edinburgh and achieve no more than improving as a performer and having fun doing it, then we shall grow more. Otherwise, many performers and companies will continue to lose money they can’t afford to lose. I think the Fringe will be poorer for that. If it doesn’t have a spirit of fun and adventure, it’s not a Fringe.