Stubborn Optimism: Navigating Loss With Grace
Plus: Phoenix Dance Celebrate Afro-American Writer James Baldwin, And Other Top Choices Mar 1-7
Have you ever been to a happy funeral? I went to one yesterday in Sheffield. Finding New Paths: Resilience And Entrepreneurial Thinking In The Arts was a wake for Ignite Imaginations, a community arts charity which, until recently, laid on participatory arts events for people who are usually excluded from such activities.
To paraphrase President Clinton (when he was still one of the good guys): It’s the funding, stoopid. For 22 years they made it work, one way or another, through a mixture of paid and volunteer effort, until they couldn’t. Don’t think they didn’t try — they really, really did. But sometimes, as in Fred Eaglesmith’s haunting Canadian folk song Water In The Fuel, you just have to admit you’ve reached the end of the line.
So far, despite being an arts funding whore myself for over a decade, I have purposely refrained from speaking of such matters. My reasons are simple: public funding always comes with ideological baggage; there is no secret sauce for ensuring that funds will go to the most deserving places; and funding rounds are contentious — in my experience, every funding row is the biggest row since the last one.
As anyone who has read their The Art Of War or their von Clausewitz knows, certain military principles always apply. But every battle is different and it is essential to understand the enemy, the particular terrain and the assets you’re working with. So it is with arts funding. Ignite Imaginations went to the wall because of a particular combination of macro-economic and Sheffield-related reasons.
But I said it was a happy funeral, and it was. On one level it was your typical arts networking jamboree — I came away, Ed Reardon-style with two satsumas and a pack of gluten-free sandwiches in my handbag from the buffet. But the arts, being driven by freelancers, do need such events occasionally to thrive. Otherwise individuals and organisations become too siloed — cut off from each other and from sources of expertise.
And if you’re, say, a novice set designer, a free satsuma goes a long way.
The high-quality panel included Jodie Marshal of A Mind Apart, community arts organiser Linda Rivelin and career coach Marina Larios. Certain themes came through loud and clear:
This is not a good time to be seeking public arts funding,
British creators are too hesitant when approaching private donors,
Artists — highly creative people by default — abandon their creativity when they consider business solutions,
Arts organisations ignore potential income streams in the digital sector,
And (oh, I know all about this) we sabotage ourselves through rigid patterns of negative thinking.
My own contribution was to point out that nothing lasts forever. Shifting sands mean effective partnerships, funding sources, even client groups, can disappear. Structures that used to work, no longer do. The most creative individuals are ruthless about moving on when their current set-up no longer serves them. The saddest theatre companies I encountered during my decade in the Guardian Guide data mines were the amdram companies celebrating 75 years of existence. In most cases (not always!) you could smell the dust. No professional company could last that long without radical reinvention.
I was a hypocrite, of course. I might have stood up and pointed out that the arts funding issue would be solved overnight if the UK found a way to slash the £4.7bn that was spent in 2023-24 alone to house and support illegal migrants. (By an odd coincidence, this is the same amount that the public sector spent on ‘cultural services’ during that year.) But, in this City of Sanctuary, such an observation would have been greeted with an icy and uncomprehending silence. Nobody would have looked me in the eye. A physical space would have opened up around me in the tea queue. Someone might even have reported me to the police as the perpetrator of a non-crime hate incident.
And anyway, I was in a room full of people who regarded migrants and asylum seekers as a potential client group.
There are ways of pushing back at this argument, of course. You could point out that even if that extra £4.7bn could be steered towards the arts sector, it might not be. You could observe — to the dismay of poor communities who have experienced the accompanying decline in social trust — that a degree of cultural diversity enriches us all.
You could even brave the wrath of those millions who must count every penny by arguing that, in the grand scheme of things, £4.7bn is small beer. And, while tactless, that would also be true.
In reality, I wouldn’t dream of lobbing such a bomb into such a sweetly good-natured farewell occasion. What could have been a moan-fest was determined to stay upbeat. But it’s nevertheless true that at gatherings such as these we dance around within the confines of a mental cage built of unspoken political assumptions, an unknown number of arts professionals thinking their forbidden thoughts in silence. No-one dares observe that, in terms of values, the subsidised arts sector is seriously out of alignment with the taxpayer.
It’s not just that the cage exists, it’s that we can’t mention the cage. Like the fish can’t see the water.
And so when the reckoning does come, in the shape of a populist British government, the arts will be so out of touch with mainstream opinion that we will receive no sympathy and have no prepared fall-back position.
Top Picks Mar 1-7
TOP PICK: A new work by Leeds-based Phoenix Dance is always an event. Founded in 1981 by three Black British men from the Chapeltown area of Leeds, it’s now one of the UK’s leading contemporary dance companies. Full-length dance production Inside Giovanni’s Room is inspired by Afro-American writer James Baldwin’s ground-breaking 1956 novel Giovanni’s Room, and explores themes of love, sexuality, guilt and self-acceptance. Leeds Playhouse, Mar 6-8, £15-£35, plus nationally.
There’s more dance action from Motionhouse at the Lawrence Batley Theatre, Huddersfield, Mar 1 (Saturday), £16-£20. Best known for their spectacular outdoor performances at festivals, which incorporate circus techniques, Hidden travels North for a single performance before disappearing off to Germany and then touring nationally in the UK. You can catch it again at CAST, Doncaster, Nov 6, tickets not yet on sale.
Two musicals are particularly worth drawing attention to in Yorkshire this week. A touring production of the legendary Broadway hit The Book Of Mormon visits the New Theatre, Hull, Mar 4-22, £15-£72.50. Described by Entertainment Weekly as “the funniest musical of all time,” it tells the story of a pair of clean-cut American missionaries dispatched to a remote Ugandan village to preach the Word.
And Calamity Jane rides into Leeds this week with Carrie Hope Fletcher in the title role. As musicals go, it’s an oddity. The “how we won the West” foundational myth it’s based on hasn’t worn too well in recent years, but it ‘queered’ the musical before queering was even a thing. One suspects ladies of a certain disposition will predominate in the audience, but your ancient gran (possibly even your ‘lesbian nana’) will also love it and the songs are great fun. Grand Theatre, Leeds, Mar 4-8, £30-£57.
If drama is more your thing, there’s A Teaspoon Of Shampoo at The Theatre In The Mill, part of the University of Bradford campus. An in-house production by a venue which, if I’m honest, seems away with the fairies most of the time, it tells the extraordinary-but-true story of a local doctor who practised for 30 years without any complaints from his adoring patients, only to be revealed as an utter fraud. Written by Dr Shabina Aslam, who grew up in Bradford, and who is artistic director at Theatre in the Mill, it’s the vehicle for some bigger themes about the founding of the NHS, the Partition of India, and the migration that has shaped modern Britain. Mar 5-8, returns only
And the Grand Opera House, York, is the only Northern date for Myra’s Story, the tale of an alcoholic woman struggling to survive by begging on the streets of Dublin. Written by Irish playwright Brian Foster and starring acclaimed actor Fíonna Hewitt-Twamley, it’s a small reminder of which small English-speaking country has actually set the global literary pace since James Joyce wrote Ulysses. (Clue: It isn’t the UK or the USA.) Mar 4, £15-£55.
And finally, for the mainstages: British politician Margaret Thatcher worshipped the Queen — at first. Rumour had it that the sentiment was not reciprocated — but was that just wishful thinking on the part of those who feared and hated Thatcher? Set to a pop soundtrack from the era, Moira Buffini’s comedy-drama relives the political turbulence of the 1980s with a playful reimagining of the private conversations the pair (possibly) had. This is a Queen’s Theatre, Hornchurch and National Theatre production. CAST, Doncaster, Mar 4-8, £14-£30, Theatre Royal, Wakefield, Apr 1-5, £15-£32, plus nationally.
Solo Shows
I dunno. There are certain venues I check every week in the hope of striking paydirt, and I find nothing but exercise classes and tribute shows. But then there’s this: Edy Hurst’s Wonderfull Discoverie of Witches in the Countie of Himself at the Frazer Theatre, Knaresborough. Edy Hurst is a neurodiverse man with an unrequited passion for Eurotrash group The Vengaboys. Then he discovered via his mother’s ancestry research that he descends from an accused woman in the notorious Pendle Witch Trials. The resulting comedic collision is superficially bonkers but cunningly crafted. Mar 1, £10.
And finally, Look After Your Knees is a joyful solo work by theatre maker, performer and physical comedian Natalie Bellingham. Based around an observation by film director Baz Lurhman “Look after your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone,” it’s a meditation on growing older. Lawrence Batley Theatre, Huddersfield, Mar 5, £15, Harrogate Theatre, Mar 18, £14, theatre@41, York, Mar 18, £12 & £15, Barnsley Civic, Mar 27, £7 & £13.50, plus nationally.
That’s my round-up for this week. Don’t forget that by clicking the purple venue link you can go straight through to the event page to book the show. A like, a share or a comment would also be great.
Liz x