I’m sitting in the audience of another Edinburgh fringe show. The month is in full swing and, as a reviewer, I’ve fallen into the pattern of rushing across the city from one venue to another to find my next seat. But, as I sit here, I have a growing sense of discomfort. Like the previous show, and the one before that, I’m the only person of colour in the audience.
I fell in love with the fringe on my first visit to the festival when I was 17. There’s magic in the mass coming-together of creativity in Scotland’s capital. And, although a lack of diversity had always prevented me from feeling entirely at ease in the city, I still managed to sing the praises of a place that championed new, exciting talent and celebrated the wonder of art. But this year, the screaming lack of representation felt like a barrier too big to negotiate.
Edinburgh audiences, according to a recent article in the Stage, are 99% white. While it might be a stretch to expect the Scottish capital to match the diversity of London, with a face so markedly different, you cannot help but feel isolated. The venues are small enough to glance around and confirm, once again, that you’re the only Black or Brown person present. You become aware of it in the silences that follow outdated terminology, or reportedly racist gags by swiftly cancelled comic Jerry Sadowitz, said freely on stage. The few jokes that are placed there for people like us, in different languages, are met with barely a snigger. At the fringe, theatre and comedy do not feel made for people like me to enjoy.
I’m not alone in my uneasiness. Reflecting on being part of such an acute racial minority at the festival, Matthew Xia – the artistic director of Actors Touring Company and this year’s fringe hit Feeling Afraid As If Something Terrible is Going to Happen – tweeted that this might be his last fringe for a while. And if things continue in their current vein, I expect he won’t be the only one choosing to step back.
This year’s fringe had, as a backdrop, an accessibility problem greater than ever before. Even before the beginning, sky-high accommodation costs blocked many from coming at all. Ticket prices to individual shows have rocketed since 2019, as we were forced to say goodbye to the Half Price Hut, along with the EdFringe app. For many performers from lower economic or marginalised backgrounds, going to Edinburgh was too great a financial risk. Many such fans also found it too costly.
And why take the hit if Edinburgh doesn’t welcome us anyway? With seemingly fewer shows than in pre-pandemic times made by global majority artists, and not enough producers developing new talent, the fringe is in danger of becoming a sickly pool of pre-existing names and privilege. Without the right audience, shows created by ethnic minorities that centre on our stories are too often overlooked or misunderstood. It is tiring to be something othered, constantly on the borders.
Still, I find comfort in some of the conversations I have. I meet other Black and Brown creatives and audience members in bars, takeaways and at street corners. Together, we eye-roll at stories of Black cast members being kicked out of clubs for apparently being too drunk, and compare similar experiences of never being handed flyers by the thousands desperate to fill seats. Our invisibility in this bustling city is a shared language we have been forced to understand.
This sense of community with other minorities brings some flashes of beauty – however limited. The moment I hear warm laughter from other Brown audience members at Brown Boys Swim, Karim Khan’s Popcorn award-winning play that actually featured some jokes in Urdu, my heart sings. Wacky Racists, Sophie Duker’s comedy event at The Flick with a lineup of only comedians of colour, is a space where we feel safe to let our usually buried delight out. But these are wondrous instants that pass by all too quickly.
So what can be done? It is an undeniably systemic issue that stretches far beyond the festival, but something has to change. The fringe needs more schemes like The Pleasance’s Generate Fund which gives £10,000 to support Black, Asian and global majority artists to take up work. Venues’ programmes have to include a greater diversity. Things must become more accessible if a different audience is ever to be embraced.
In the unregulated fringe system, we all have a collective responsibility to campaign for change. Uncomfortable conversations should be commonplace. More needs to be done, by everyone, to stop our ongoing experiences of exclusion, loneliness and damage. At its best, Edinburgh is a marvel. But our fringe too has to be one that equally matters.
