Comedian Holly Spillar on how working class artists are disappearing from the Fringe
With costs continually on the rise and little financial support to hand, low-income background artists increasingly can't afford to come to the Fringe. Comedian Holly Spillar speaks for and to the comics priced out of this year's festival
It’s a dangerous time for people from low income backgrounds to try and be artists. Whilst we are more aware than ever of what diversity looks like, and the many kinds of barriers that face artists, class often falls by the wayside.
There is little to no support for working-class artists, and the funds and schemes that do exist are effectively working blind. It’s impossible to truly ‘means-test’ support, and the applications for these limited resources are inevitably self-described. And let’s face it - almost everyone wants less financial risk, so these funds are hugely over-subscribed. As a result, financial support often doesn’t reach the people who need it the most, and the artists who lose out and truly cannot present their work without funding are nowhere to be seen at the Fringe.
If it wasn’t for the Phoebe Waller Bridge bursary scheme Keep It Fringe, this would have been me. I had to borrow money to perform my debut show in 2023, and it took me and my producer a year and a half of working minimum wage jobs to pay that back. Without that bursary, it would have taken me much longer than two years to return to the Fringe.
The Fringe website claims that the ethos of the festival is “to give anyone a stage and everyone a seat”. But it’s clear that making professional work as an artist is becoming more and more a class exclusive sport.
Like the problem of class in the arts in general, the steady disappearance of low-income background artists at the Fringe is easy to overlook. It’s painful for me that the comedians that continually inspire me to keep making my work are those who can’t afford to bring their own to the Fringe.
The Edinburgh Fringe is comedy’s moment in the spotlight, and more interviews with comedians fill the pages of papers than at any other time of year. But of course, this coverage won’t reach the comedians who can’t afford to go, so our awareness of the problem is limited. It’s a vicious cycle. Which is why I took the opportunity to speak to some of the comedians unable to bring their work to Edinburgh, about how the financial barriers facing them have impacted their career.
Artists like Nikola McMurtrie, a sketch comedian and writer with commissions from BBC Scotland. Despite being a regular finalist at competitions such as the Musical Comedy Awards and Sketch Off, Nikola has not been able to bring a debut show to the Fringe. She told me: “I don’t think artists should have to go into debt to share their work… I just can’t afford to.”
Australian comic and clown Alexander Richmond says that for international performers from low income backgrounds Fringe costs are completely impossible. “To be able to stay here and move onto a new VISA I need to spend well over £5000 - I could not possibly afford to also do the Fringe.”
Alex told me that not attending Edinburgh Fringe “inherently harms” his career. On one hand, this is about missing opportunities, although the financial rewards of Fringe are few and far between. Any potential professional opportunities will benefit few of the over 3000 shows being presented. Instead, the currency of the Fringe is “markers of success” - reviews, award nominations, buzz - which rarely translate to financial reward. This is high-risk for anyone for whom “losing money” means not being able to make their rent.
What we see from the outside is some artists smashing out show after show, and others having to take more time, or never being able to bring work to the Fringe at all. The assumption is: you’re not ready. As is often true with class, people don’t see poverty - what they see is incompetence. This is the real harm to burgeoning careers.
Performers from a low-income background cannot always put their life on hold for a month - especially not when working off the debt of a previous trip to the Fringe. This is without even considering the other demands artists can have on their time - I spoke to working class comedian and mum Freya Benteaux about how parents can feel pushed out of the festival. She told me “the biggest barrier is the cost - I can't afford to travel through from Glasgow every day, couldn't afford the posters/space in the brochure etc… I also have a neurodivergent child so childcare would be an issue - I can't put my them into holiday clubs and there isn't really a community of artist parents who could help.”
Improving access for working class and low-income background artists isn’t just about money. It is about understanding what the specific needs of these artists are, and responding with creativity and sensitivity. For Freya, that means “a pool of childcare providers. If artist parents had a base where they could drop off their child during their show and then look after other artists' kids during their show, that would be amazing.”
The Keep It Fringe Fund offers £2,500 to successful applicants - but £500 of that is given after the festival is over. It’s a start, but funds like the Keep It Fringe Fund are an absolute bare minimum if the Edinburgh Fringe is to be an arts festival, not a festival of wealth. The arts have to be more than just a playground for the wealthy and well connected.
Holly Spillar: Tall Child, Underbelly Bristo Square, 5.45pm, until 24 August
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