During my caravan holiday in the Lake District last month I embarked on a rainy day pilgrimage to Lanternhouse, home of the former legendary participatory arts organisation Welfare State International (WSI). Although I knew I wouldn't have access to the interior of the building as it is now in private ownership, having read Artistic Director John Fox's Eyes on Stalks and the organisation's handbook Engineers of the Imagination (edited by Tony Coult and Baz Kershaw), I wanted to sense for myself what it was about Ulverston that nurtured such a unique company and mull over why -when WSI became building-based- the physical anchor appeared to lead to its demise.
Sadly I never got to experience WSI's work first-hand and instead became interested in the dynamics of spectacular immersive events through seeing an outdoor performance in 1998 of Autocrat by te POOKa, a performing arts organisation associated with the Beltane Fire Society in Edinburgh, and also through the lantern parades and performances of Newcastle-based Dodgy Clutch. Time and time again I heard the kind of large-scale immersive work that excited me spoken about in the same breath as WSI, and I came to understand the company's pioneering role in the field.
Standing on a damp, overcast day staring at a quirky but crumbling building that gave no hint of the colourful community engagement of which I'd heard, provided some food for thought. Change is of course inevitable with the passing of time, but in light of funding cuts and alterations to Arts Council England's policies, I feel the post-Y2K changes to the arts have been damaging, not just to the sector, but to the wider community.
I feel that focusing upon creating and maintaining grand centres of single disciplinary excellence, and cutting access to the arts in formal education and interdisciplinary centres such as Lanternhouse, are helping fuel a situation where the arts are becoming the exclusive preserve of the middle classes. I can't imagine my life without art. To me, creativity is an approach to living and a reason for staying alive - it's an essential connection to something, anything, when I'm not plugged directly into nature at The Lakes. Many people now do not have that need fulfilled because of the new gatekeepers to spaces and resources.
Since the turn of the millennium, the trend in arts investment has veered towards swanky buildings with high-end cafes. Locked rooms with pass cards. High spec equipment that mere mortals are not allowed to use. It reinforces that art is 'not for the likes of you.'
Growing up I was lucky enough to experience being part of a procession and stage entertainment for North Shields Fish Quay Festival, I participated in school shows and attended the annual Rotary Club-supported carnival which culminated on Beaconsfield in Tynemouth. My generational cohort was surrounded by culture and it was easy to get involved. Access to space was key, which I was lucky enough to enjoy at six form college and university. I learned that interdisciplinary group arts can not only offer huge physical and mental health benefits, but can offer many transferable skills, opportunities for ongoing meaningful human contact, and if done well can nurture a a feeling of belonging and a sense of community and collective identity, entirely independent of political or religious allegiances. People can engage on a variety of levels and interdisciplinary art offers lots of different in-routes and ways of trying new practices that may have not been considered were it not for the collaboration.
During a guided tour of the formerly sprawling BBC powerhouse Television Centre in London's Shepherd's Bush, I was stuck by the stories of how many of the great familiar light entertainment shows came to fruition because of chance meetings in the staff canteen or by bumping into colleagues when walking across the circular courtyard. Scenery construction, production, decision making, rehearsing and filming all happened under the one roof.
This is why I like the old, slightly rough around the edges, arts centre model. Somewhere that you could belong and be exposed to new experiences in a non threatening environment. Somewhere that you weren't worried about damaging the branding or the pristine aesthetic by pasting up posters or lounging in paint-spattered clothes. Somewhere where cross-pollination of ideas was possible. The spark of the new.
Lanternhouse closed when it lost its Arts Council England NPO funding in 2012. Buildings take a lot of time and money to manage and come with a raft of staffing, maintenance and operational demands, so perhaps moving WSI into Lanternhouse shifted the focus and limited resources of the company? Perhaps the (then) shiny building was at odds with the company ethos of getting involved and getting your hands dirty? Perhaps it was a change in leadership following John Fox's stepping down in 2006? Perhaps it was a change in ACE priorities or perhaps it was a combination of these factors?
On a policy level I am not so excited by paint-by-numbers, well behaved, formulaic single disciplinary art and suspect that I am not alone in craving novelty, innovation and wonder in a way that is not so heavily dependent on new technology which has understandably been the go-to angle for exploring unchartered territory over the last 30 years. As an audience member you expect a certain format of work in a lovely theatre or a lovely gallery - to an extent the buildings dictate the conventions, there are parameters. WSI/Lanternhouse broke out into the wider world where anything could happen.
I am sad that Lanternhouse is not what it was. In a micro-fragmented society addicted to waging culture wars on each other we need these communal places more than ever now.