If you’re a regular reader of these pages you’ll know the Artspace Lifespace/Invisible Circus artistic mandate by now: locate neglected buildings and transform them, safely, for free, to be used for hugely popular artistic and performance purposes. Joe Spurgeon catches up with Naomi Smyth, a documentary-maker who’s filmed their journey from the start.

There’s a moment in Naomi Smyth’s long-gestated, expertly spliced, insider’s view documentary, when you grasp the Artspace Lifespace dilemma. The group – having grown from a medium-sized squat putting on donations-only performances in an old car showroom on Cheltenham Road – have just secured temporary residency of their biggest venue to date, the former police and fire services HQ at Bridewell Island. Ambitions are high. Discussing how to meet the rent imposed on them by their landlords, property developers, Urban Splash, an offer is put on the table. Volkswagen are keen to use the crew’s vast space for a promotional event and will pay a lucrative fee for the privilege. Sniffing corporate sell-out, a variety of variously articulated arguments develop, and the group decline the manufacturing giant’s offer. A few days later, Volkswagen pay Urban Splash directly and rent the space anyway. The Invisible Circus gets nothing.

It’s this occasionally thorny relationship with commercial partners, and an increasing need to organise and structure themselves, that has threatened – and ultimately been pivotal to – their success, though the ethos – to make art in criminally neglected buildings that would otherwise have been left to rot – admirably remains the same. And plenty, from Stokes Croft and beyond, have followed suit.

Should cash-strapped, Arts Council-ignored organisations take greater heed? Is it a sustainable solution for the arts? How do we nurture and provide space for developing local talent? And why are owners so unforgivably profligate when it comes to using their buildings? Perhaps wisely stopping short of pure hagiography, Naomi’s documentary, which screens at the Cube on Sat 5 Feb, touches on all these questions and hints at some answers as she charts the group’s – and her own – journey from 2006-2009.
 

Why did you make this film?

In 2006, round the corner [from where I lived] there was a squat in the old Audi garage – a mysterious four-storey hulk of a building where pictures kept appearing in the windows. One night the doors were thrown open. It was teeming with people – they'd built a stage, a set, draped the broken old walls in red velvet and they did these cabarets that were a mix of very polished acts and people who were just trying things out. [Performer] Ed Rapley’s first few goes at a one-man show were not the Bristol Old Vic sell-out standard they are now. But he was up there doing it, finding out what worked.

It reminded me of the leap of faith necessary to create something. I fell in love with the people that gave that excitement back to me and I wanted to show them and everyone else what I felt. 

I kept talking about filming them, but I was shy. Then the eviction hearing was announced and I had to do it, or I might have been left without a record of that time. I jumped in and didn't stop for three years.
 

Did you have any idea of what the Invisible Circus and Artspace Lifespace would become in Bristol? I could feel from the first night that it was something special. It wasn't just the Invisible Circus involved at that stage, there were lots of people from all over the Bristol squat, activist, street art and performance scenes. Bristol does that stuff very well. But the performance element was very strong, and the look of it gave the place an identity. When I first started asking people about doing interviews I was directed to Doug [Francis – see below]. He seemed to have the clearest idea that this was a base from which to develop both Artspace Lifespace and the Invisible Circus. The names and the projects were his from the beginning – one coming from the squat world and trying to legitimise the use of empty buildings in London, and the other from performing at festivals. But they had developed quite sporadically and gradually over 13 years or so.

It's the culture of the crew and it's taken us to where we are today. It's more mainstream now, fully licensed – and maybe some in the DIY scene think it's sold out. But the determination and solidarity within our community comes from the positive side of that scene – contrary to the stereotype of chaotic, ketamine-addled hippies.

I have always had mixed feelings about the growing success of the Circus and the current stability of Artspace. For the Circus, there are always times at ‘Carny Ville’ after-parties when you look around and it's very fashionable and sparkly and you think back to the filthy old Audi garage and think... where were you then? But the shows have got better and tighter, and I think a lot of the anarchic madness and the feeling of liberty to act and interact at the shows is translated to people who would never have gone to a squat show. Hopefully, it's thought-provoking and inspiring as well as hedonistic. 

As for Artspace, I think taking over derelict buildings is necessary; leaving them empty is a crime. But it runs on rent from artists. ‘Landlord' is a dirty word in some squat circles, but it needs money to run. There are also problems with projects like Artspace providing homes once they go legit, as there are so many regulations. Housing is one of the uses I think derelict space should be put to first, before art studios or performance space. Affordable housing is such a problem and sometimes arts projects in derelict buildings make it worse by pushing up property prices.

You must have had a lot of material for your final cut... I ended up with about 300 hours of tape. The overflowing box of tapes I show in the film is about a third of it. Contemplating the scale of turning those tapes into a real film made me panic. I had a G4 Powerbook – £500 off eBay – some hard drives and a freezing studio where I lived for months on end. At one point I would sleep for three hours on a mattress next to my desk, get up, edit for 18, sleep for three, do it again and at some point collapse at home, and my husband Sam would cook me some food and pat me on the head.

What was the filming process like? I started out shooting it, usually by myself, but if I had to work my husband Sam would step in. Then, as I got involved in the shows, camera friends would step in and shoot the shows at the Cathedral. Probably 20 people or so over the years. The Zen Hussies, one of my favourite bands, agreed that I could use six of their tracks for free. My best mate El Morgan, local musician John Jennings and The CarnyVillains also donated tracks. Then I edited it myself on my laptop, and occasionally showed it to friends and noted down all their criticisms. That was a tough job, especially if I hadn't slept! Like telling someone their baby is ugly. Around that point I realised I had to work on it solidly for a few months and not take any other work. In order to fund that, I sent emails around and created a page where people could pledge £10 or more to pay me to work on it. Those who pledged over £20 got an invite to a private premiere and everybody who donated will get a special DVD when they're ready. About 80 people chipped in and I managed to raise £1,200, which kept me going for about two and a half months. Artspace provided a free space for me to work in.

Then, when I thought it was nearly done but still needed 20 minutes cutting, I realised I'd lost all perspective. I advertised on www.shootingpeople.org for knowledgeable people to watch and critique it, and I heard back from 12 people who ranged from laymen to film festival directors and heads of distribution companies. The feedback I got enabled me to make the final cut. After that, a guy called Will Young agreed to mix the sound for me. Unfortunately, I was far too flaky and sleep-deprived by that point – I was racing for a film festival deadline – and I wore him out by being insane and demanding. So after the deadline I got my friend Rich Wood to do the mix on a more leisurely schedule. I did see Will at the last ‘Carny Ville’ and apologised. I think he forgave me. Another friend Jamie Worsfold did the colour grade. Once it was done, my friend Vanessa Bellaarspruijt helped me to make plans about distribution and get some perspective on it as a finished thing – which wasn't easy for me. I kept wanting to go back and change bits but you have to let go at some point. The Cube have shown faith in it by putting it on, and loads of friends are doing music and performance for free at the premiere night. So although I pushed it through at every stage and I sometimes think I made it by myself – I really had a big support network behind me. I'd like to thank them all.

What was it like living/working/being around with the group? I never lived with the Circus and I don't think I could have finished the film if I had. To be with, and work with, they are a constant frustration and joy combined. There's not much separation of friends and work colleagues. That's why it's good that people have periods of other work outside of it, otherwise it gets a bit too intense. There's such a variety of skills, individuals, builders, makers, technicians, riggers. Generally, they're creative, funny and libertarian and they work very hard. They are rarely paid any more than a token amount, if that. It seems very cliquey if you come to it from the outside, but I've noticed that when people come to work hard and do some dirty jobs without asking what's in it for them, everyone in the group respects that – because that's what we all did.

What do you think the group’s impact has been? I think Artspace were on the crest of a wave that has since engulfed Stokes Croft. As Hinch says in the film, waves like that where artists 'take over' whole derelict chunks of a city are part of an old tradition. And much as we might like to think it's revolutionary, it's also part of a city's regeneration cycle and can represent the thin wedge of gentrification. There are positives and negatives. Having a lot of cheap or free space for artists to work in is part of what makes Bristol such a creative city. Groups like Artspace, who put the work in, do the renovations, do the paperwork, invite the inspectors in and get their work seen as legitimate and beneficial by building owners, are carrying the flag for lots of similar projects. As far as the Circus goes, again we are part of a tradition. When I studied theatre, my favourite parts were the big art projects in vast factories and abandoned places – Paris and Berlin in the 1910s, San Francisco and New York in the 60s and 70s – huge crews of artists from different disciplines congregating and creating spectacular and weird shows about busting though the line between performer and audience. It's been great for Bristol and long may it continue. I want people across the world to know more about it and get inspired to do it themselves.

You began as an impassive documentarist, and became a heck of a lot more involved as a performer. How did that happen? I never intended to be impassive, it's a stance I'm quite suspicious of in documentary. When I watch films I am always on the look-out for the film-maker – are they being honest about their involvement? Do they acknowledge that they were there? I respect it when they do, even in very subtle ways. Not that the film is about me, but I had to be honest about the fact that I was getting involved, that I was in the shows, I had opinions, I was forming friendships. As that developed, I stopped referring to the circus as 'them' and it became 'us'. I think if I hadn't got so involved, the film would have been different – people would have been more guarded, but it might also have gained something – a greater ruthlessness or distance perhaps. Making the film was initially motivated by love and excitement so that had to remain the driving force of the film, so in that sense my involvement was totally appropriate.

Is there an angle/agenda that the film follows? I initially intended to document until the end of the Audi garage, but when I interviewed Doug I realised he had all these schemes for how the project could develop. It involved a lot of engagement and collaboration with the council and property developers who own the buildings, and getting much more organised as a group. I saw then that the success of the project would come down to how the group managed to get through the changes ahead. It's quite common in groups like this to have big, damaging splits on ideological or financial grounds. The film became about those contradictions and how they are worked through by a group of people who love each other, but also have a need to live and a desire to succeed in a world that is essentially commercially driven. The biggest challenges were the moments where Artspace came up to a choice between doing things the 'normal' mainstream way in order to get a building, funding, or a licence – and staying ‘underground’ and keeping the project at the level it was at. The step forward was always made but never without a great deal of discussion, discontent and a feeling of loss for some people. Many of the crew came from activist backgrounds where corporate collaborations were something they never aspired to and felt very suspicious about. The closer I look at things, the more they open up new questions. I think new ways of working should always be tried and getting locked into an 'us and them' mentality is a dead end. 

Tell me about some of your favourite memories? The shows really stick in my mind. 'Road to Nowhere' in the Audi garage was really powerful because I showed up with no idea of what to expect. Some of my favourite footage comes from that first show – it was a four-story epic, insanely ambitious on a total shoestring. Singing in the Cathedral for 'Judgement Day' was a real high point for me. It was a tough show to make but that was a really serene moment. Rowan Fae was swinging from the rafters on her trapeze dressed as a crow, and I sang Ralph Stanley's 'O Death' acapella. People's mouths would drop open and you could feel the excitement. 

Would you say Bristol and the bodies AL dealt with were generally receptive to AL's work? Is this a city that enables things to happen? I think Bristol has been really supportive to the Invisible Circus – especially in the past few years. They're easy to love. As for Artspace, they're doing the boring bits of managing buildings and there has been support from volunteers and artists renting spaces but not much in the way of funding. Ruth Essex from the council arts department was a great champion when they were evicted in 2006-7. She persuaded the buildings department to grant Artspace a peppercorn rent on a derelict council property – it was the first vote of confidence that helped get them established. In general, I think Bristolians who've seen the shows are Invisible fans for life. Bristol is very supportive indeed for collaboration and making things happen. The next thing is to get people nationally to recognise what's going on in Bristol.

The Arts Council has less money. The city council has less money. Do you think arts organisations in Bristol can learn anything from the AL’s/The Invisibles’ model? We got through those years when there was relatively much more funding for the arts without really getting any, and now that there's a recession, it's just business as usual. We've always funded shows from ticket sales and the bar. Getting the crew paid is another battle – it can be done but the shows need to be smaller for the same ticket price. I'd like to see Artspace working with other groups to take on buildings, in Bristol and across the country. The group has gained a wealth of knowledge on the issues involved, but can't keep taking on more and more buildings without other groups to manage them. The Circus is moving to our new HQ at Paintworks, so Artspace will be running the Island and making lots of changes now that there is so much free space.

Finally, how was following the Invisibles/AL around changed you, ultimately? At the end of this process I can say that I'm definitely a working artist, and although I have a lot to learn, I have confidence in my talent. I wouldn't have been able to say that four years ago, and that comes from the sheer amount of practice I've had in making films and shows over the past four years. That's worth much more than money to me, which is lucky because, out of all creative pursuits, theatre and independent documentary are among the least lucrative in existence!

The Invisible man

Doug Francis reflects on five years of site-specific spectacle in Bristol.

It has been an epic journey here in Bristol for the Invisible Circus, a crazy five years. Watching Naomi’s film really was an emotional experience, seeing it all condensed into a couple of hours was amazing – it seems more like 10 years has passed when you look at where we have got to. I used to joke during cabarets at the Audi garage that next we would march on the city centre… never thinking we would one day take over an ex-police and fire station HQ.

The film shows we have spilt our fair share of blood, sweat and tears too, a lot of people have helped along the way and without them, none of this would have happened.

Money – or rather the lack of it – comes up quite a bit [in the film] and that’s an issue that always divides and generates questions, especially now we appear to be turning over larger amounts of it. Alas, ‘turn it over’ is really all we do, because as our shows have grown, so have our overheads and [consequently] so have our ticket prices.

We have always had a policy of putting everything back into the pot, there has never been anyone creaming off profits. Originally, we all did it for the love, investing everything back into our projects. More recently, we have begun paying our crew on smaller productions and for key roles on the Artspace Lifespace projects.

‘Carny Ville’ has been one of our most amazing achievements and without it, we would never have managed to open here at The Island. Although most of the turnover pays for the expenses of doing the show, we did raise substantial funds for major building works and bills here, as well as creating a resource for our next phase.

I am incredibly proud of all the crew who have made it happen and I’m honoured to be a part of such a big family. We came to Bristol with nothing and have built something unique.

The audiences who have come and supported us have been a big part of what we do and the passion and creativity of the people here has made it take off.

I am not sure where we go from here. We have managed to establish two companies [ArtSpace LifeSpace Co-operative and The Invisible Circus CIC – that’s a Community Interest Company] and they both now have legs to stand on, so can hopefully keep serving the people and raising the profile of the city. We would like to stay here and make it the production base for our aspirations of being a touring company.

I have travelled for a long time and lived in a lot of different countries and cities, but Bristol has become home. I have made a lot of friends here, seen a lot of dreams come true and all I hope is that we can continue doing what we do and people continue to enjoy it. Hopefully, Naomi’s film will inspire others that anything really is possible.

Life is not a dress rehearsal.

THE INVISIBLE CIRCUS: NO DRESS REHEARSAL SCREENED AT THE CUBE, BRISTOL ON SAT 5 FEB. FFI: WWW.INVISIBLECIRCUSFILM.COM/PREMIERE
 

Copyright Joe Spurgeon 2011

Tweet