Who says capitalism and socialism can’t get together in a spirit of fun?
While many expect these competing ideologies to be like oil and water, The Edmonton Fringe Festival (Aug. 15-25) proves them wrong.
While Fringe Festivals have spread to 41 cities worldwide, Edmonton still has the biggest and oldest such event in North America, with more participation than major cities including Toronto, San Francisco and New York.
David Cheoros, who oversaw five Edmonton Fringes including last year’s, hints that Edmonton’s success might have a lot to do with the city’s character, which combines an entrepreneurial spirit with socialistic leanings.
The concept behind the Fringe originated in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1947. A small band of amateur performers staged musical and dramatic shows in “found spaces” such as churches and halls, and timed them to coincide with the upscale Edinburgh Festival.
Today, the first “fringe” festival has grown to become the largest arts festival in the world.
In 1982, the Edmonton Fringe Festival was born, the first North American attempt to replicate what had succeeded so well in Edinburgh: small, inexpensive, accessible theatre.
Since then, Edmonton’s version has grown steadily. It now attracts dozens of theatre troupes from around the world, and last year drew more than 500,000 visitors.
Using the Fringe name involves submitting to restrictions imposed by the Canadian Association of Fringe Festivals.
As with any socialized system, the rules can be Byzantine. The one overriding principle, however, is that wealth shall confer no advantage. This principle is almost
anathema to free-market, cash-rich Calgary. But Edmonton has always been more liberally democratic than Calgary.
To succeed as a performer at the Fringe, you need everything but money. The same holds true if you want to see a show. Standing in line, hustling for position and getting the early word on hot tickets are tricks learned by experience and smarts in the fast-paced Fringe environment.
Here are some rules tied to the trademark: All venues must be open to all applicants either on a first-come, first-served basis or lottery – no favourites, no juries.
All performers must sell tickets at “affordable” levels, mandated by price caps.
No one may restrict what performers do on stage, as long as it’s within the law.
The application fee and production fee for performers must be reasonable (performance groups keep 100 per cent of the ticket sales).
In general, venues are small. In Edmonton’s case, the largest theatre seats 200 people.
The effect of these rules is that patrons who step into a Fringe show early in its run often have no idea what to expect and risk attending a dud. Late in the run, they risk battling crowds.
Fringes are not for the risk-averse.
In the case of Edmonton’s Fringe, a quota guarantees that 50 per cent of the performance groups will be Edmonton-based. Similar quotas determine the number of Alberta shows, non-Alberta Canadian shows, and international shows.
If willingness to spend does not determine one’s place in the queue or quality of seat in the theatre, something else must. Figuring that out is naturally rule-intensive, labour-intensive and potentially controversial.
The Edmonton Police were called when an altercation broke out a couple of years ago – one performer, seeking a venue slot, hired a substitute to stand in line for him. When this was questioned, all hell broke loose.
Cheoros said the line for the coveted performance slots had stretched into four days that year. “I have total respect for people who are willing to go through the lineup process. It is just not in any way humane or related to theatre,” he said.
After that incident, Cheoros implemented a lottery system to decide which performance groups earned spots on the
playbill.
Such complex rules and their justifications, while interesting, don’t capture the true Fringe experience.
The Fringe thrill arises from the entrepreneurs who spend months preparing shows and staging them.
These are the Dudley Moores of tomorrow, angling for the innovative artistic idea that will draw crowds. These business people/artists risk their time and money hoping to get good PR and sold-out shows when the festival arrives. No one is forced to attend, after all.
Trevor Schmidt, the new artistic director of Edmonton’s Northern Light Theatre, has been a participant of the Edmonton Fringe for six years with The Unconscious Collective.
“For me, it’s the one time of year when I don’t have to worry about art with a capital A,” he told me.
“It’s fun. The selection is so big, everyone will find something that they’re comfortable with. There are people doing the Odd Couple and there are people doing
performance art where they roll around in the mud and read the phone book.”
Like any capitalist system, it does not work without much risk-taking, and Albertans provincewide understand that well. Rewards can be monetary, but are often much deeper.
In the case of the guy reading the phone book, the rewards must have been very difficult to quantify. But, “you can make a lot of money,” said Schmidt.
No doubt, Edmonton’s climate, short summers, long days, and isolated location help create the festive festival atmosphere. But more than anything, Edmonton is the perfect city to match Alberta capitalist artists with socialistic principles that make Edmonton’s Fringe Festival so enormously successful.
