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'We haven't made a profit for five years': risky business at Edinburgh fringe 'We haven't made a profit for five years': risky business at Edinburgh fringe
(about 11 hours later)
Ten years ago, at the Edinburgh festival, Anthony Alderson became the not very proud owner of 44 Vauxhall Astras. Alderson, the Pleasance’s director, had bought 22 of the cars from a scrapyard for a show called Auto Auto, staged in the Grand, the largest of the Pleasance venues. But it turned out they were the wrong kind of Vauxhall Astra. The show turned cars into comedy percussion instruments and these all had sun-roofs. So Alderson had to buy another 22. “I think the scrap dealer thought he’d hit the goldmine,” he recalls ruefully.Ten years ago, at the Edinburgh festival, Anthony Alderson became the not very proud owner of 44 Vauxhall Astras. Alderson, the Pleasance’s director, had bought 22 of the cars from a scrapyard for a show called Auto Auto, staged in the Grand, the largest of the Pleasance venues. But it turned out they were the wrong kind of Vauxhall Astra. The show turned cars into comedy percussion instruments and these all had sun-roofs. So Alderson had to buy another 22. “I think the scrap dealer thought he’d hit the goldmine,” he recalls ruefully.
Running a venue in Edinburgh is about more than booking acts, selling tickets and waiting for the cash to roll in. It means knowing where to hire a crane at 3am so you can lift a trampoline through a window, as Zoo Venues’ artistic director, James Mackenzie, had to do one year.Running a venue in Edinburgh is about more than booking acts, selling tickets and waiting for the cash to roll in. It means knowing where to hire a crane at 3am so you can lift a trampoline through a window, as Zoo Venues’ artistic director, James Mackenzie, had to do one year.
Or dealing with a hole that opens up overnight right in front of Pleasance Dome’s entrance. Or ferrying truckloads of water from Leith to fill the Pleasance Courtyard tanks when the water supply fails, so the venues’ toilets can flush. Or working all night, as Tara Kilbourne and Darren Neale of Greenside did when the carpet tiles used as underlay for the stage shuffled out of place during tech rehearsals for a dance show.Or dealing with a hole that opens up overnight right in front of Pleasance Dome’s entrance. Or ferrying truckloads of water from Leith to fill the Pleasance Courtyard tanks when the water supply fails, so the venues’ toilets can flush. Or working all night, as Tara Kilbourne and Darren Neale of Greenside did when the carpet tiles used as underlay for the stage shuffled out of place during tech rehearsals for a dance show.
Running a venue is about crises, queues and managing the expectations of performers. When Greenside suffered a power cut one year, its staff moved the shows into the garden. Nobody seemed to mind.Running a venue is about crises, queues and managing the expectations of performers. When Greenside suffered a power cut one year, its staff moved the shows into the garden. Nobody seemed to mind.
Fringe venues will do anything to make sure that the show goes on, whether disaster occurs through their own error or by an act of god. That’s because the margins on which most are operating are far slimmer than might be imagined. Next time you are sitting in a cramped fringe venue and wonder why they haven’t thought about your comfort, bear in mind that the difference in revenue on £12 tickets from a 50-seat venue and a 52-seat venue can be £4,800 over a 25-day period of hosting eight shows a day. Even for a year-round venue such as the Traverse, Scotland’s home of new writing, August is crucial: a whacking 63% of its annual box office comes during the fringe.Fringe venues will do anything to make sure that the show goes on, whether disaster occurs through their own error or by an act of god. That’s because the margins on which most are operating are far slimmer than might be imagined. Next time you are sitting in a cramped fringe venue and wonder why they haven’t thought about your comfort, bear in mind that the difference in revenue on £12 tickets from a 50-seat venue and a 52-seat venue can be £4,800 over a 25-day period of hosting eight shows a day. Even for a year-round venue such as the Traverse, Scotland’s home of new writing, August is crucial: a whacking 63% of its annual box office comes during the fringe.
One year, a large dance company made back the costs of their entire Edinburgh run with a single gig in South AmericaOne year, a large dance company made back the costs of their entire Edinburgh run with a single gig in South America
Verity Leigh, festival programme manager at Summerhall, often jokes with her colleagues that if they were to stop producing theatre during Edinburgh, and instead turn all the spaces into beds for fringegoers, they would actually make some money. But what would be the fun in that? There are almost 200 venues, with hundreds of performance spaces dotted across Edinburgh this summer, ranging from the hidden pleasures of the Quaker Meeting House (excellent cake), hosting a handful of shows reflecting Quaker values in its Victoria Terrace home, to mammoth outfits such as Gilded Balloon, Assembly and the Pleasance. Last year, the Pleasance was responsible for around one in four of all fringe tickets sold. Twenty per cent of those were sold for the Grand. Get the programming wrong in that space and the black line quickly turns red.Verity Leigh, festival programme manager at Summerhall, often jokes with her colleagues that if they were to stop producing theatre during Edinburgh, and instead turn all the spaces into beds for fringegoers, they would actually make some money. But what would be the fun in that? There are almost 200 venues, with hundreds of performance spaces dotted across Edinburgh this summer, ranging from the hidden pleasures of the Quaker Meeting House (excellent cake), hosting a handful of shows reflecting Quaker values in its Victoria Terrace home, to mammoth outfits such as Gilded Balloon, Assembly and the Pleasance. Last year, the Pleasance was responsible for around one in four of all fringe tickets sold. Twenty per cent of those were sold for the Grand. Get the programming wrong in that space and the black line quickly turns red.
We all know that the artists are the big financial losers during the Edinburgh fringe, and many producers treat the event as a loss-leader or as one big marketing spend. You will almost certainly lose money during your Edinburgh run, but because the show is seen by programmers and promoters, from the UK and abroad, you have a small chance of recouping your investment and earning more through touring. One year, a dance company with a large cast at Zoo made back the cost of their entire Edinburgh run with a single gig in South America. They are, though, the exception, not the rule.We all know that the artists are the big financial losers during the Edinburgh fringe, and many producers treat the event as a loss-leader or as one big marketing spend. You will almost certainly lose money during your Edinburgh run, but because the show is seen by programmers and promoters, from the UK and abroad, you have a small chance of recouping your investment and earning more through touring. One year, a dance company with a large cast at Zoo made back the cost of their entire Edinburgh run with a single gig in South America. They are, though, the exception, not the rule.
Most artists in Edinburgh will self-exploit to perform there, but most venues, even some larger ones, turn only modest profits and sometimes face losses. Over the years, a number of venues have gone bust or pulled out because the economics don’t stack up. That includes significant players such as Aurora Nova, which ran St Stephen’s but now only produces on the fringe, to the tiny Gryphon whose tagline was “more fringe than a flapper in a speakeasy”.Most artists in Edinburgh will self-exploit to perform there, but most venues, even some larger ones, turn only modest profits and sometimes face losses. Over the years, a number of venues have gone bust or pulled out because the economics don’t stack up. That includes significant players such as Aurora Nova, which ran St Stephen’s but now only produces on the fringe, to the tiny Gryphon whose tagline was “more fringe than a flapper in a speakeasy”.
One of the reasons venues build empires in Edinburgh is that it spreads the risk. Smaller venues are more exposed in a poor year. Attendance can be affected by the weather. (Solid rain is a disaster, but a bright day with showers that gets people out and then drives them in to see a show is good.) Other factors include competing events, such as the 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.One of the reasons venues build empires in Edinburgh is that it spreads the risk. Smaller venues are more exposed in a poor year. Attendance can be affected by the weather. (Solid rain is a disaster, but a bright day with showers that gets people out and then drives them in to see a show is good.) Other factors include competing events, such as the 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow.
Some predict that 2017 might be tricky because so many households are feeling a financial pinch; others suggest that the low-value pound attracts tourists and boosts numbers of UK staycationers. The first weekend tends to be a bellwether for the rest of the festival, although London 2012 was the exception when a painfully slow start turned into a bumper year.Some predict that 2017 might be tricky because so many households are feeling a financial pinch; others suggest that the low-value pound attracts tourists and boosts numbers of UK staycationers. The first weekend tends to be a bellwether for the rest of the festival, although London 2012 was the exception when a painfully slow start turned into a bumper year.
The more you dig into it, the more apparent it becomes that the entire economy of the Edinburgh fringe is a mirage. The only real beneficiaries are Virgin trains and the city of Edinburgh itself, its hotels and restaurants and shops, those with performance space to rent and the residents who let out their flats for in August. The festival is estimated to be worth £260m to the local economy.The more you dig into it, the more apparent it becomes that the entire economy of the Edinburgh fringe is a mirage. The only real beneficiaries are Virgin trains and the city of Edinburgh itself, its hotels and restaurants and shops, those with performance space to rent and the residents who let out their flats for in August. The festival is estimated to be worth £260m to the local economy.
Running an Edinburgh fringe venue may help to build a successful all-year round business, as it has for Ed Bartlam and Charlie Wood of Underbelly, who stage Edinburgh’s Christmas and Hogmanay celebrations as well as the London Udderbelly/Wonderground summer season. Or it may be, as Kilbourne and Neale thought when they founded Greenside in 2005, a way to spend six weeks each summer in Edinburgh for free.Running an Edinburgh fringe venue may help to build a successful all-year round business, as it has for Ed Bartlam and Charlie Wood of Underbelly, who stage Edinburgh’s Christmas and Hogmanay celebrations as well as the London Udderbelly/Wonderground summer season. Or it may be, as Kilbourne and Neale thought when they founded Greenside in 2005, a way to spend six weeks each summer in Edinburgh for free.
Greenside has returned a small profit over the last two years, but as Neale observes: “If Greenside was a normal business in another industry and everybody was doing it for such little profit and so much hard work, a lot of it unpaid, nobody would do it. They wouldn’t think it was worth it.” Over the years, Kilbourne and Neale have drafted in mums and dads to run the box office and friends to sell cups of tea.Greenside has returned a small profit over the last two years, but as Neale observes: “If Greenside was a normal business in another industry and everybody was doing it for such little profit and so much hard work, a lot of it unpaid, nobody would do it. They wouldn’t think it was worth it.” Over the years, Kilbourne and Neale have drafted in mums and dads to run the box office and friends to sell cups of tea.
So why do so many rage as much against the festival’s venues as the landlords and hotels who ensure that Edinburgh is one of the most expensive cities in the UK to visit in August, with shops routinely raising prices during the fringe.So why do so many rage as much against the festival’s venues as the landlords and hotels who ensure that Edinburgh is one of the most expensive cities in the UK to visit in August, with shops routinely raising prices during the fringe.
Underbelly’s Bartlam reckons that bigger venues might only have themselves to blame. “Maybe we haven’t been as transparent as we might have been about telling people what it actually costs to run a venue in Edinburgh. Nobody thinks about the fact that its costs £25,000 to put Astroturf on George Square to protect the grass, or that we spend £300,000 every year on accommodation for staff and crew, that we have a wage bill of £350,000 including £60,000 on security, and that we spend £140,000 on lighting rigs and £40,000 on cabins for storage and dressing rooms in George Square.” Underbelly’s Bartlam reckons that bigger venues might only have themselves to blame. “Maybe we haven’t been as transparent as we might have been about telling people what it actually costs to run a venue in Edinburgh. Nobody thinks about the fact that its costs £25,000 to put Astroturf on George Square to protect the grass, or that we spend £30,000 every year on accommodation for staff and crew, that we have a wage bill of £350,000 including £60,000 on security, and that we spend £140,000 on lighting rigs and £40,000 on cabins for storage and dressing rooms in George Square.”
Last year, the 16 Underbelly spaces in Edinburgh cost £2.4m. The Pleasance spends around £1.5m simply to make its venues operational. Summerhall’s Leigh says that when companies turn up during the year to see a space they hope to perform in – which could be anything from a university lecture theatre to a church hall – they are often puzzled that it bears so little resemblance to the same space they saw last festival. “It’s because we spend £10,000 on technical equipment to get it performance operational.”Last year, the 16 Underbelly spaces in Edinburgh cost £2.4m. The Pleasance spends around £1.5m simply to make its venues operational. Summerhall’s Leigh says that when companies turn up during the year to see a space they hope to perform in – which could be anything from a university lecture theatre to a church hall – they are often puzzled that it bears so little resemblance to the same space they saw last festival. “It’s because we spend £10,000 on technical equipment to get it performance operational.”
Ah, you say, but venues sell all those tickets. They do. Last year, Underbelly sold around 234,000 tickets. An average ticket price of £12 would create an income of about £2.8m. But not all of that money goes to the venue. Most of the bigger spaces split the box office 60/40 with companies – in favour of the latter.Ah, you say, but venues sell all those tickets. They do. Last year, Underbelly sold around 234,000 tickets. An average ticket price of £12 would create an income of about £2.8m. But not all of that money goes to the venue. Most of the bigger spaces split the box office 60/40 with companies – in favour of the latter.
Of course, there are other ways for venues to make money, particularly from food and the bars. Yet the Pleasance, for instance, don’t run the bars; the university and students’ union do, and the Pleasance gets only 10% of the takings. A nice little earner, but not quite the money spinner it appears on a crowded Friday night in the courtyard. Underbelly are in a much better position because they run their own bars, with 10% of takings going to their landlords on top of their rent.Of course, there are other ways for venues to make money, particularly from food and the bars. Yet the Pleasance, for instance, don’t run the bars; the university and students’ union do, and the Pleasance gets only 10% of the takings. A nice little earner, but not quite the money spinner it appears on a crowded Friday night in the courtyard. Underbelly are in a much better position because they run their own bars, with 10% of takings going to their landlords on top of their rent.
Just as accommodation costs in Edinburgh have sky-rocketed, rents for spaces have increased much faster than inflation over the last 10 years. Most venues have good relationships with their landlords. Greenside could never have established the venue if it wasn’t for the understanding of Greenside Parish Church on Royal Terrace. Zoo’s Mackenzie, who recently won a new three-year tender for Zoo Southside, points out that the space is used as a community centre outside of August and the income they get from Zoo is crucial, representing about 25% of their annual income. Rising rents are not always about greed but about necessity. But that doesn’t make it any easier for venues, particularly the smaller ones.Just as accommodation costs in Edinburgh have sky-rocketed, rents for spaces have increased much faster than inflation over the last 10 years. Most venues have good relationships with their landlords. Greenside could never have established the venue if it wasn’t for the understanding of Greenside Parish Church on Royal Terrace. Zoo’s Mackenzie, who recently won a new three-year tender for Zoo Southside, points out that the space is used as a community centre outside of August and the income they get from Zoo is crucial, representing about 25% of their annual income. Rising rents are not always about greed but about necessity. But that doesn’t make it any easier for venues, particularly the smaller ones.
It’s tough to run a venue, and it’s getting tougher. People do it because they are addicted to Edinburgh in AugustIt’s tough to run a venue, and it’s getting tougher. People do it because they are addicted to Edinburgh in August
“A third of our spend is on rent,” says Mackenzie. “We try hard not to raise the guarantee we ask from companies because we know how hard it is for them to come to Edinburgh, but we are being squeezed by rent. We haven’t made a profit for five years. We break even on a turnover of around £350,000. There are those days when it’s all going wrong and I think I could give this up, but my life has been governed by August in Edinburgh since I was 20 and I’m addicted. But I worry about the future, particularly for smaller venues.”“A third of our spend is on rent,” says Mackenzie. “We try hard not to raise the guarantee we ask from companies because we know how hard it is for them to come to Edinburgh, but we are being squeezed by rent. We haven’t made a profit for five years. We break even on a turnover of around £350,000. There are those days when it’s all going wrong and I think I could give this up, but my life has been governed by August in Edinburgh since I was 20 and I’m addicted. But I worry about the future, particularly for smaller venues.”
A large venue such as the Pleasance, which operates year-round, can ride out a big loss, such as one in 2014, and have a chance of clawing it back, as they did last year. But a small venue can be sunk by a bad year. Some such as Greenside – which has grown to 138 shows at three sites and seven performance spaces – try to moderate the risk: they don’t look for a guarantee and a box-office split, but instead charge a flat-rate hire that ranges from around £800 to £1,500, depending on the time of day and size of space, with the company retaining all of the box office. It suits some companies, particularly school and student groups, who know exactly where they stand financially. The downside is that the venue has already taken its money so it has no particular incentive to get bums on seats.A large venue such as the Pleasance, which operates year-round, can ride out a big loss, such as one in 2014, and have a chance of clawing it back, as they did last year. But a small venue can be sunk by a bad year. Some such as Greenside – which has grown to 138 shows at three sites and seven performance spaces – try to moderate the risk: they don’t look for a guarantee and a box-office split, but instead charge a flat-rate hire that ranges from around £800 to £1,500, depending on the time of day and size of space, with the company retaining all of the box office. It suits some companies, particularly school and student groups, who know exactly where they stand financially. The downside is that the venue has already taken its money so it has no particular incentive to get bums on seats.
There is definitely a hierarchy of venues in Edinburgh (“We’d all be lying if we said there wasn’t,” Mackenzie admits), and the bigger you are the more clout you have. But even those running the biggest venues know their future success is built on the smaller entry-level or feeder venues such as Zoo, Greenside, the Quaker Meeting House or Paradise in the Vault, which are a crucial part of the fringe ecology. Many companies and individuals get their first taste of the fringe there, and decide they want to return to Edinburgh, maybe to bigger spaces.There is definitely a hierarchy of venues in Edinburgh (“We’d all be lying if we said there wasn’t,” Mackenzie admits), and the bigger you are the more clout you have. But even those running the biggest venues know their future success is built on the smaller entry-level or feeder venues such as Zoo, Greenside, the Quaker Meeting House or Paradise in the Vault, which are a crucial part of the fringe ecology. Many companies and individuals get their first taste of the fringe there, and decide they want to return to Edinburgh, maybe to bigger spaces.
“The fringe needs to refresh and regenerate or it stagnates, and that doesn’t just mean new companies wanting to perform but also new venues run by new people,” says Bartlam. “But it is more difficult than when we started Underbelly.”“The fringe needs to refresh and regenerate or it stagnates, and that doesn’t just mean new companies wanting to perform but also new venues run by new people,” says Bartlam. “But it is more difficult than when we started Underbelly.”
Smaller venues are most likely to be driven under by rising rents, expensive temporary performance licences and increasingly higher accommodation costs, which deter the graduate companies and students who once would have considered the fringe a rite of passage.Smaller venues are most likely to be driven under by rising rents, expensive temporary performance licences and increasingly higher accommodation costs, which deter the graduate companies and students who once would have considered the fringe a rite of passage.
From the bottom to the very top, the financial foundations upon which the fringe is built are fragile. If small venues pack up or new venues don’t emerge, then the big boys and the ethos of the fringe itself will be in trouble.From the bottom to the very top, the financial foundations upon which the fringe is built are fragile. If small venues pack up or new venues don’t emerge, then the big boys and the ethos of the fringe itself will be in trouble.
As Neale says: “We couldn’t start up Greenside today – the risk would be too great. So I do wonder where the new venues will come from. The fringe needs to have venues operating on different models and on different scales. But it’s tough to run a venue, and it’s getting tougher. People do it because they are addicted to Edinburgh in August, not because they want to make lots of money. They won’t.”As Neale says: “We couldn’t start up Greenside today – the risk would be too great. So I do wonder where the new venues will come from. The fringe needs to have venues operating on different models and on different scales. But it’s tough to run a venue, and it’s getting tougher. People do it because they are addicted to Edinburgh in August, not because they want to make lots of money. They won’t.”