Battling to Free the Fringe

A number of charges are hurled at the Fringe every year. For some, the sheer scale of the fringe is now unsustainable. The Fringe Programme runs to 389 pages: in 1983 it was only 69. In parts of the Old Town, there is a sense of the Fringe holding the city in some sort of headlock, from which it struggles to free itself. The hoped for reset following the pandemic hasn’t occurred. 

There is also the widely articulated view that the Fringe has lost its way and is a largely commercial rather than cultural event. Boasts that the Fringe is that ‘the world’s largest arts festival’ are perhaps somewhat hollow.That the big venues which have spread their tentacles out across the city are, many believe, providing a pale shadow of a truly rich cultural event. That the many yards of astroturf spread over public spaces (such as George Street and George Square) are a metaphor for something that isn’t quite as advertised. 

Behind it are long-running disputes about the proper relationship between culture and free enterprise.  For some, there has been a dilution of cultural ambition, while others see the primary issues as one of access. Many believe that commercialisation is pricing out many performers and – as ticket prices rise – also members of the public. In short, the Fringe is becoming far less accessible and dominated by a socially narrow set of performers. Fringe veteran Richard Herring has recently commented that the social elitism of the Fringe “makes me sick”. What can be done?

Resistance

While many grumble about this increasing commercialisation of the Fringe, determined efforts have been made to try and counter the big venues. The Free Fringe has, since 1996, led this resistance. It has helped many performers access the Fringe, while making the Fringe more accessible to those ‘punters’ on a limited budget. Their model has been partly adopted by other groups, such as Laughing Horse’s The Free Festival, while other Fringe venues have adopted a ‘pay what you want’ model for some performances. 

Speaking personally, PBH’s Free Fringe was my ‘gateway’ into the Fringe. Over the last decade, the Free Fringe has given me access to a number of very memorable performances. It has provided me with a number of ‘only at the Fringe’ moments, with eccentric, bizarre shows that have illustrated the Free Fringe’s desire to revive the original spirit of the Fringe, providing a showcase for the alternative, the truly fringe. 

The great joy of coming across something magical in a dark room on the wet Tuesday morning. It would however be wrong to see  the Free Fringe as something completely different from the ‘paid Fringe’. The Free Fringe has, since it began, achieved significant ‘mainstream success’ 

The success of the Netflix series Baby Reindeer and the furore that followed it brought Richard Gadd’s name to the attention of many. It was a reminder that Gadd’s initial breakthrough came at the Edinburgh Fringe. More specifically, he first came to prominence through PBH’s Free Fringe, initially via 2013’s Cheese and Crack Whores and culminating in his comedy award winning 2016 show Monkey See Monkey Do. Gadd’s success was a manifestation of the Free Fringe’s role as a nursery of talent and a clear illustration that the Free Fringe deserves to be taken seriously.

Despite such triumphs, PBH’s Free Fringe remains on a constant financial tightrope, threatening to tip into bankruptcy at any moment. The Free Fringe is a significant part of the Edinburgh Fringe, in both scale (over 400 shows this year) and cultural contribution, but faces constant challenges. 

Started by Peter Buckley Hill in 1996, it was inspired by a desire to reform the financial model of the Fringe, making use of the many unused spaces in the city. As he puts it, “instead of paying for a venue and charging for tickets, there should be no hire charge and free entrance for everyone”.The deal is that the venues used will get trade from those attending the shows as payback. In this way, PBH’s Free Fringe supports local businesses, rather than the money going elsewhere via the big venues. Free Fringe venues range from regular spots (such as the Liquid Rooms, and Banshee Labyrinth – where Gadd performed in 2016) to spaces that may open up for a short time-and may then join the roster. In my experience this has meant some creative re-use of spaces; I’ve regularly found myself in areas of the Old Town that I didn’t previously know existed! 

PBH’s Free Fringe is now one of the largest players in the Fringe but its future is deeply uncertain. Speaking recently to Elise Harris, Peter Buckley Hill stated that the Free Fringe is “under attack” from elements of the paid Fringe “who want to see us dead”. He sees a number of other elements of the Fringe adopting aspects of the Free Fringe model but not being truly free, in that they charge performers a fee for the space they perform in. The Fringe is, he believes, “full of profiteers…trying to make money off the performers”. He wants Fringe-goers to “distinguish between the true and genuine free fringe” and those with free admission to the public but “do not benefit the performers”. This model does lead to the constant financial tightrope. The financial situation is particularly severe post – covid, as the Free Fringe received nothing from the Resilience Fund. In contrast, the big venues received substantial amounts. All PBH’s Free Fringe gets comes, as its CEO Luke Meredith puts it, “from the generosity of the general public”.

The Politics of the Free Fringe

I discussed the Free Fringe with Harun Musho’d and Chris O’Neill, hosts of The Political Breakfast. Cannily, this 9.30am show is the earliest starting in PBH’s Free Fringe programme (the Wee Blue Book), drawing in those keen to start their ‘fringeing’ early. On a wet Monday morning (following a thunderstorm), the show played to an impressively full house.

For Musho’d, it is the inherently political nature of the Free Fringe that inspires him. A number of PBH performers are certainly expressly political in their shows, such as Attila the Stockbroker (John Baine) and Kate Smurthwaite. At another level, PBH’s Free Fringe is, by its nature, a critique of a highly commercialised cultural sphere. For Baine, the inspiration for the Free Fringe is “reclaiming the original idea of the Fringe from the corporate monster”. 

Musho’d sees PBH’s Free Fringe as a necessary alternative to the paid fringe, which he considers “exploitative”. PBH’s Free Fringe’s aim is to “stop exploitation of performers by someone”, agents, venues etc. Though he’s not directly involved in the running of PBH’s Free Fringe (“I’m not in the close circle”), Musho’d uses his position on the Board of Directors of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe Society as a voice for the Free Fringe. In his ‘bucket speeches’ he passes on the Free Fringe message and why it needs urgent financial support.

One battle the Free Fringe is constantly fighting is retaining its best venues. Every year, poaching goes on. This has long been part of the Fringe and was the source of a conflict between PBH’s Free Fringe and Laughing Horse’s The Free Festival. Laughing Horse have themselves now lost one of their key venues – Cabaret Voltaire on Blair Street. In its cavernous room, I’ve caught some superb performances, including some of Ahir Shah’s intelligent and impassioned stand-up. Just the Tonic is seen as leading the poaching at present. 

What is particularly irksome to those involved with PBH’s Free Fringe is the unproved suggestion that some of the big venues are using some of the money from the Resilience Fund to induce venues to jump from the free to paid Fringe. However, Musho’d and O’Neill don’t see the paid Fringe as one monolithic force, praising year-round venues such as The Stand and Monkey Barrel for giving performers a fair deal, not fleecing them.

Not only does PBH’s Free Fringe seek to make the Fringe more accessible for performers but also for the public. While the performers do ask for voluntary contributions at the end of their shows, it is on the basis of “pay what you can afford”. With Fringe shows at the big venues getting expensive, this model allows those on a limited budget to enjoy the Fringe. For Peter Buckley Hill himself, PBH’s Free Fringe is “a collective of performers working for each other and the benefit of the public”.

The Leith Hub

Recent years have seen a geographic ‘centralisation’ of the Fringe. As Musho’d admitted, the Old Town has become “saturated” with Fringe venues; more so than in past decades. Most of the PBH’s Free Fringe venues are in and around the Cowgate. This adds to the sense of a city overrun with tourists and Fringe-goers, especially around South Bridge and its ‘environs’. Even a venue such as Brewdog on Lothian Road is considered to be geographically marginal, though it does see good footfall. The need to spread the Fringe out over a wider area is a pressing one. 

Luke Meredith, CEO of the Free Fringe rejects the centralising charge, pointing out that the big venues have led this, while PBH’s Free Fringe has consistently made efforts to disperse further afield, including this year. As Meredith rhetorically puts it, “Where are the outlying venues from the “big four”?”. For Meredith, it is the Free Fringe which has made the biggest effort to ‘decentralise’ the Fringe. 

O’Neill admits that generally “most venues outside the centre have struggled”. This year, PBH’s Free Fringe has made a significant effort to spread, with five venues in Leith and, Musho’d feels, things have started promisingly. Leith’s status as a self-contained community (and one of the most densely populated urban areas in Scotland) means that there are plenty of locals around, without a great need to entice people down from the city centre. Leith is also an established cultural location -and a place to stay. 

As the manager of one of the new Free Fringe venues, the Satyr Bar on Leith Walk, outlined, many Fringe-goers now stay in Leith, having been outpriced from more central areas. This again adds to the potential audience. He admitted that hosting Fringe shows had been a “learning experience”, but, especially at the weekend, the shows at the Satyr Bar had seen good numbers. He felt that PBH’s Free Fringe had potential to establish itself in Leith as there were several venues within a short distance, including the Leith Arches. It was well worth fringe-goers making their way down Leith Walk. Musho’d himself performs at the Strathmore Bar and has enjoyed performing in such a “vibrant area”. He hopes that it will increasingly become “a hub for the Free Fringe”.

Bare bones

Like many Free Fringe performers, Musho’d embraces the communal aspect of PBH’s Free Fringe and the bare bones aspect. The Political Breakfast is, for him, “the epitome of the Fringe” in the rawness of its venue (Burrito’n’Shake”). It’s a very basic setup in the humid basement of an eatery with clanging noises coming from the kitchen. Audience involved in the show (today was a bit low energy, “people were mainly in listening mode”). More broadly, stand-up suits PBH’s Free Fringe because of its inherent simplicity. 

Some have argued that the Fringe is now dominated by stand-up comedy, with other art forms somewhat sidelined. In my own experience, there is certainly a predominance of very competent stand up performers (on the Free and paid Fringe) who ultimately struggled to produce something memorable. A 50-minute stand up show is not something easily achieved. Another Free Fringe performer Neil Davidson describes the Fringe as “an orgy of stand-up”. Musho’d admits that there is truth to this, but defends stand-up because of its “low barriers of entry”. It is, he argues, the “most democratic art form”. Musho’d though would like to see greater diversity within stand-up, “which is generally dominated by white men”.

Enriching the Fringe

In a number of ways, PBH’s Free Fringe manifests a stripped down cultural experience. Many Fringe-goers embrace this while others are more comfortable with the more polished venues of the paid Fringe, with their battalions of t-shirted staff. In contrast, whether PBH’s Free Fringe sinks or swims depends on getting their message out there and getting good numbers through the door. 

Here they are battling against a large publicity machine, dominated by those involved with the big paid Fringe venues. This means, for instance, that getting reviewers to shows can be tough. As a result, many of the awards are dominated by pad Fringe acts. In my own experience, reviewers tend to stick to the renowned venues (such as the Pleasance Courtyard) and top class Free Fringe performers are overlooked. 

Eccentric but enjoyable efforts such as Neil Davidson’s The Thermos Museum  are the type of shows that have that ‘only at the Fringe’ feel but add variety to it. Davison eschews ‘flyering’ to publicise his show and instead lies in a planter outside his venue (the Satyr Bar) – what he terms “lie-down comedy”. The deeply moving theatrical play Piano Smashers is another excellent show that the Free Fringe has supported. Lead performer Rob Thompson praised the support he has received during the run from PBH’s Free Fringe and from the venue CC Blooms. He admitted that without the support of the Free Fringe “we wouldn’t be here”. What impressed Thompson was the “deeply principled” nature of the Free Fringe people he’d communicated with; their sense of common purpose, of comradeship. 

Such unusual shows emphasise the Free Fringe’s role as a nursery for talent, especially those performers we might describe as unorthodox. Rob Auton might be a classic example of this, bringing his themes to life with his mixture of eccentric interactions with the audience, poetic musings, and inspired social observations  He has steadily built up a cult following. Incrementally larger audiences have taken him through a wide variety of the Fringe venues. 

I first encountered Auton in the Banquet Hall at the Banshee Labyrinth, playing in PBH’s Free Fringe. This dark atmospheric space is typical of the type of room used by those performers beginning their Fringe journey. I warmly recall a slightly ramshackle but thoroughly enjoyable performance.  Subsequent performances have been at places such as the 80-seater Just the Tonic Mash House, the sort of intermediary venue suggesting someone on an upward trajectory. A wider audience was starting to take notice of Auton. More recently he has played at some of the Assembly venues; in Fringe terms,  making the big time. The Free Fringe allowed Auton the space to find his feet, to grow as a performer. 

At the same time, some performers have stuck with the Free Fringe.  Shows such as Mark Simmons’ More Jokes and Markus Birdman’s – We Are All in the Gutter, but Some of Us Are Looking at the Gutter demonstrate that established acts are delighted to be part of the Free Fringe. Both could easily do extremely well on the paid Fringe but have chosen not to join it.  

This is evidence of the range of performances supported by the Free Fringe and the way it enriches the whole event. PBH’s Free Fringe adds much to the richness of the Fringe. For how long will it continue to do so?