5: Risk (1 of 2)

There are, without doubt, risks associated with bringing a show to the Edinburgh Festival Fringe.

The most obvious are purely financial—it can cost a lot to put on a show, especially once you include accommodation costs in a city which some may suggest exploits its scarcity.

Even back in the 1980s and 1990s I heard anecdotes about some locals vacating their centrally-located homes for the entirety of the Festival and earning a sufficient amount from the rent to not just pay for their overseas holiday but also any damage to the premises. Especially if they focused more on performers from the International Festival than the Fringe: yep, concerns have been around for longer than you might think.

Obviously, most performers who come believe it’s worth it, if not for the chance of discovery and career blast-off, then at least “the experience”. But, as has been recognised, even purely financial costs can be a genuine barrier for an event which self-identifies as an “accessible” festival. Not everyone is in a position to max out their credit cards.

Post-Covid-19, post-Lockdown, post-?-cost-of-living-crisis, concerns about the preventative costs of the Fringe remain a concern. Last year, the Edinburgh Festival Fringe Society launched its “Keep it Fringe” fund, helping artists bring work to the city, rooted in the festival’s vision “to give anyone a stage, and everyone a seat”. Which is great—in a sort of “sticking plaster” kind of “great”, given the numbers involved.

But then, as I was reminded during yesterday’s press launch at ZOO Southside, the Fringe is built on risk. The original eight theatre companies which self-invited themselves to Edinburgh to run on the fringe of the inaugural International Festival of Music and Drama back in 1947 had no guarantees. So you could say, it’s part of the deal.