This article on the demise of the Vancouver Playhouse was brought to my attention by Adrienne Zitt, our Canadian-trained associate artist. For those who don’t click the link, allow me to sum it up: the Vancouver Playhouse has closed its doors and the author of the article, Matthew Jocelyn, lays the blame at the feet of his country’s entire performing arts industry. He makes no exemptions and does not spare himself – he is artistic director of Canadian Stage – but instead suggests that this should be the wake-up call that prompts Canada’s theatre industry to evaluate itself before other theatres follow suit.

There are two of his points which particularly interest me. The first is that the arts cannot be treated like an ordinary business – I completely agree with this, and I’m frequently provoked into lengthy rants when I encounter comments about how theatre companies that cannot be financially self-sufficient should be allowed to fold. This is the attitude of people who think that acting isn’t a real job, who see the arts as mere self-indulgence, and it enrages me.

There’s a reason why people need the arts. We are driven to artistic expression as a means of reflecting and understanding ourselves and our societies. From childhood onwards, we learn about our world from stories and these stories are told in a variety of ways – books, music, poetry, visual arts, theatre and all the many other forms that would take too long to list. Art allows us to communicate across cultures and centuries. If the arts weren’t important, it wouldn’t be necessary for them to be censored by regimes that don’t want their actions to be examined and perhaps challenged. If the arts weren’t effective as a means of influencing how people think, they wouldn’t have been used throughout history for purposes of propaganda, subversion or rebellion.

A healthy cultural life allows our society to progress and gives us a sense of community – or perhaps the more appropriate word would be communion. When I see a play or look at a painting or listen to a piece of music that makes me feel that the artist who created it must have experienced the same emotions as me, I feel understood, connected, recognised. I am reminded that the world is not as lonely a place as it can often seem. Sometimes that’s reassuring. Sometimes it’s unsettling to see how little things change…

Mr Jocelyn draws a comparison between demanding profit of a theatre and demanding it of a hospital or a school. This is not to suggest that producing a play should be given financial priority over a lifesaving operation, but it asks an interesting question (particularly pertinent following the 2012 Budget) about whether either should be subject to solely financial considerations. It has been argued that perhaps subsidised theatres, rather than producing endless revivals of classic plays in order to bring in audiences, should be the ones to take the risk on new writing. Since subsidised theatres are run by more experienced artists, new writers could be guided by old hands and their work would not suffer from the lack of resources endemic in fringe theatre in its current state.

So what then happens to classic plays, and indeed to fringe theatre? Classics then become the stuff of fringe. New artists cut their teeth on well written plays that have already stood the test of time. Audiences follow the plays they know and love into the fringe, where they discover new artists and hopefully become fans of their work. As these artists move into the subsidised houses, they take their fan base with them to discover plays by new writers. And of course, if fringe theatre were attracting bigger audiences by doing recognised plays, production values could be higher and we could maybe even get paid sometimes…

But of course, all of that requires people to put artistic considerations first and trust that if we are true to our art, the money will follow. That’s not an easy sell. Hard work, integrity and change seldom are.

The second point that particularly interests me is Mr Jocelyn’s attribution of a portion of the blame to the artists, who were “unable to produce a body of work that makes theatre a truly necessary, truly integrated part of our modern world”.  While I can’t speak for Canada’s theatre scene, I can certainly see similarities in the UK. We have some excellent theatre artists, we have some with great potential, but we also have a lot of work being presented in a half-finished state, not receiving the development it needs to become great.

There’s a great pressure on emerging artists of all kinds to be in work. Fill your CV by any means possible, build up a chunky catalogue of previous productions, regardless of the quality of the work. It’s a trap many of us fall into when we’re starting out, for many reasons. We’re inexperienced, we know we need to get our work seen, we need the validation of being able to answer the dreaded “So what are you up to at the moment?”, we want to be taken seriously as artists.

It’s not just a problem for fringe artists. Even the more established companies frequently produce work that could do with another couple of drafts or another couple of weeks’ rehearsal before being put before the paying public. We’re all trying to keep a high profile, to make sure we’re not out of sight and out of mind while we develop new projects. We’re all bursting with more ideas than a single lifetime will accommodate. Putting in the necessary time and energy to create something truly excellent and necessary means we need resources, but here’s the real difficulty – it also means being willing to take our time, be patient and resist the siren call of other projects. It means holding our nerve and believing in a project enough to give it the time it needs. That’s not as easy as it sounds. It’s always a struggle to silence the inner voices saying “you should be doing more”, but if we really want to create a body of work that means something and serves our art form’s purpose, perhaps the voice we need to listen to is the one saying “you should be doing better”.

Be true to our art. Focus on quality, not quantity. Trust that money will follow where integrity leads. It’s that simple… and that complicated.

At last I’m in front of my computer for long enough to write about yesterday’s meeting of Edinburgh Council’s Regulatory Committee. I was very pleased to see the public gallery so full, including several grassroots theatremakers as well as artists from other disciplines.

The deputation from the Stop PEL Changes in Edinburgh campaign consisted of Neil Cooper and Morvern Cunningham, both of whom did us proud. Neil gave an impressive speech about the history of grassroots arts and their effects on the city’s cultural life, drawing attention to the fact that such cultural icons as the Traverse grew out of small, free readings in bookshops. At the end of it you could feel the artists in the gallery restraining themselves from clapping. Read it for yourself here.

The Committee then asked a number of questions about the impact of the PEL changes on grassroots arts and explained that amending their Resolution to extend the list of specifically exempt activities would take nine months. They could do that, or instead they could specify which activities actually do require a license. Or they could still decide that small scale events need to be licensed, even if it’s without a fee – that is still a possibility, and it’s still certain that six weeks’ notice would kill the spontaneity of grassroots arts so we really need  to keep the pressure on to make sure we don’t end up with that.

However, no decisions can be taken before the next meeting, which is on April 20th. Yes, that’s right, nearly three weeks after the new rules come into force. Small free performances which take place between the 1st and the 20th will require a license. The fee will be waived. You might spot a bit of a problem here – it’s 10 March. April is just over three weeks away. How do we give the necessary notice?

The implication at the meeting was that prosecuting artists for putting on tiny gigs in cafes and galleries really isn’t a priority of the Council’s, but technically any such events held license-free between 1 and 20 April will be illegal, even though we can’t possible get licenses in time.

One thing that was never explained was why Glasgow seems to be able to halt the march of the PEL while they carry out a review (which Nicola Sturgeon doesn’t seem to have a problem with) but Edinburgh can’t. Surely if it’s not against the law for one council, it’s not against the law for the others? But never mind. The point is that they’ll make their decision in April, so we need to keep working with the Council to ensure that it’s a workable, sensible decision (by which I mean ‘a decision that exempts small free events from licenses, not just from fees’).

So, how do you make your voice heard?

1. Take part in April Foolery. Do something artistic on 1 April. Let’s celebrate grassroots culture with as many tiny unlicensed events as possible. Find a space and fascinate, entertain and/or enlighten some people! I believe that part of the reason for all this chaos is that grassroots arts weren’t even considered when the Criminal Justice and Licensing Act was amended. Individually we are not high-profile artists – that’s the nature of grassroots. But collectively we can make an impact. Over a thousand people have signed up so far. Come out to play?

2. Tell the Council your views as part of the public consultation. Again, our strength lies in numbers. If we want Edinburgh to have a thriving grassroots culture where artists can cut their teeth and go on to influence and provide the mainstream arts of tomorrow, we need to let the Council know that. Information about the consultation can be found by clicking here. 

3. Keep spreading the word! If you’re organising events between 1 and 20th, talk to people on and offline and tell us how you find it. If you’re not, keep linking news articles, post links to your favourite emerging artists, go out and try a small, free event of a kind you’ve never been to before and talk to the people there about what they do! We have so many amazing artists of all kinds – discover them before everyone else does…

Let’s start with an update on the April Foolery campaign: We’re now up to 564 artists attending, with over 5000 yet to reply. Considering that I started it off by inviting about 130 people, I’m very impressed with this and can’t wait to see those numbers rise further between now and the 1st of April! I’ve made contact with some excellent, driven people and been reminded of the power of the internet. Let’s keep it going!

Now, local news. Yesterday’s Affectable Acting session was a cracker. Honestly, I am so proud – not just of yesterday’s group, but of all the actors who have been coming to these sessions and giving so generously of themselves. But in particular, I am proud of three ladies who have brought in monologues to work on.

First, a few sessions ago Danielle Farrow let me use her to demonstrate Fiendish Fencing, a game I use to test line learning. Affectable Acting begins with learning your lines flat, by which I mean there’s no interpretation – the meaning of the words comes later. However, being able to recite your lines while walking along the street or doing the dishes is an entirely different matter from being able to do them under pressure, and that’s when we find the weaknesses so the actor knows what to tighten up on. As any of the Regulars will attest, Fiendish Fencing puts them under pressure! It’s based on Boal’s Irish Fencing game, but without the racial epithet and with a few Jen twists… What are the twists? Well, that would be telling. Come to the sessions and you’ll find out.

Second, Hazel DuBourdieu brought in her audition monologues and subjected herself to Fiendish Fencing and several games that involve being pelted with lightweight balls. The difference with Hazel was that she was using monologues she had recently learned and done a lot of work on independently, so rather than testing her lines, we were putting her under pressure to make her work hard for her objective. If you want people to take your seriously or pay attention to you, you’re going to have to use very different tactics when your audience are on their feet and chucking things at you to when they’re sitting politely and attentively. Hazel has been a great sport, allowing us to bombard her and torment her (but always with tea, biscuits and discussion afterwards).

Third, Liberty des Roches-Dueck became the first to work up a monologue from scratch. A few weeks ago I helped her to select a new classical monologue, Paulina from The Winter’s Tale. Yesterday we tested her, tormented her, ran through her Given Circumstances and tried the speech under the Four Conditions. (I will do that post explaining the Four Conditions. I will. Promise.) We’re not finished with the process yet, but this is the furthest any of the actors have gone with it so far and it was thrilling. The speech was truthful, moving and unrepeatable. Well done Liberty, and thank you Greg for standing in as Leontes! I can’t wait to get started on scene studies!

You know you’ve seen truthful acting rather than skilful artifice when you feel privileged to have been allowed to witness the moments you just saw. That’s when I know this technique is really working, when I’m ask caught up watching the scene as I would be if I were in it. I really struggle to sit still. I squirm inside and quite often have my hands clamped over my mouth so I won’t forget myself and shout out. You’d think that after nearly thirty years of regular theatregoing and however long I’ve been making theatre, I’d have learned self-control. But the fact is that when I see something that really rings true, something where the actors are really in the moment and engaging with one another, what little sophistication I have is forgotten. And those moments are why I do this…