Kate Copstick is a legendary figure of the Edinburgh Fringe, a doyenne among reviewers. Scribbling away busily on her notepad at the back of Edinburgh’s dank basement venues, her words have caused many comedians discomfort.
In fairness, she has also lavished praise and stars on many performers; her imprimatur a significant badge of honour. Copstick has strong views of how the Fringe needs to change in order to remain culturally vital. She is not happy with its current state, considering it bloated and dominated by corporate values.
In recent years, Copstick has become a prominent public supporter of the Free Fringe, aka PBH’s Free Fringe (after its founder, Peter Buckley Hill). As I outline in my article in the latest edition of the journal Scottish Affairs (published by Edinburgh University Press), the Free Fringe has been a sustained and substantial attempt to address the various challenges faced by the Fringe, especially issues of access.
The heart of the action
I chatted to Copstick and Buckley Hill in Whistlebinkies, one of the Free Fringe’s key venues, right in the heart of the action. Whistlebinkies is a manifestation of the labyrinthine nature of the Old Town, with entrances on both South Bridge and Niddry Street. It was here, in 2023, I witnessed one of the best Free Fringe events, A Show for Gareth Richards, the slot vacated by the tragic death of the young comedian Gareth Richards. The show featured leading lights of the comedy scene, including Stewart Lee. The show was an excellent advert for the collective character of the Free Fringe at its best.
A swirling mess
According to Copstick, the Free Fringe is a key part of the Fringe’s ecology, injecting a much needed element of authenticity into it. For her, it represents the true values of the Fringe, with a focus on artistic freedom and accessibility, not profit. The Free Fringe is, she believes, an important counter to the “swirling mess” of the contemporary iteration of the Fringe, which is inspired by “how much money can be made…how much people can make”. This is, for Copstick, a perversion of the true values of the Fringe which should be to give those on the margins the ability to reach an audience. In short, breaking down barriers to culture.
She felt that the Free Fringe’s example ought to encourage others to “take a stand” against the corporate takeover of the Fringe. Though now an established part of the Fringe, the Free Fringe constantly teeters on the verge of financial collapse. Keeping it afloat is a constant battle. It would, Copstick believes, be “a tragedy” if the Free Fringe were to disappear. This is why the Free Fringe “has to be a community”, of performers working together to free the Fringe.
Together as a cooperative
If it, instead, absorbs the competitive values of the paid Fringe, it will soon collapse. This is why Buckley Hill, and other senior Free Free figures, have to constantly encourage performers to stick to the principles of the Free Fringe. This includes offering the Free Fringe’s programme (The Wee Blue Book) alongside flyers. In short, performers need to promote the Free Fringe more generally, not just their own shows. Free Fringe CEO Luke Meredith states that, “we stand together as a cooperative” implying that if this collaborative aspect is not maintained, the whole thing will collapse.
Copstick has supported the Free Fringe’s excursion into Leith, where it now has 5 venues, including the Leith Arches. She feels that the Leith aspect could provide the Free Fringe with a USP, helping to broaden the Fringe out geographically. The Leith extension seems the best chance of viably expanding the Fringe beyond the centre. Kate Copstick believes that the Free Fringe needs to “take over Leith” as “a Free Fringe zone” before the “big boys” come. The Free Fringe can legitimately argue that they are leading efforts to decentralise the Fringe.
Stolen biscuits
As I approached, Copstick was busily pounding a review into her battered laptop. Alongside her, Free Fringe “Overlord” Buckley Hill was looking rather agitated. Though he was due on stage in 15 minutes, it was not pre-show nerves that had him flustered…but missing biscuits! He was on the hunt for packets of pink wafer biscuits, which had been lifted from his bag. “Someone’s stolen my biscuits!” These were to be a prop for his performance, a bribe to get the audience on his side. Instead he had to rush out to get some replacements. After a period of ill-health, Buckley Hill is back performing regularly, with two (almost) daily slots at this year’s Fringe. It was, Coptsick mentioned, great to see Buckley Hill back in action.
The show that followed reflected much of the character of the Free Fringe in that it was engaging – and sometimes chaotic. Peter Buckley Hill and Some Comedians (aka PBHASC) was the founding show of the Free Fringe, first performed in 1996 at The Footlights & Firkin pub on Spittal Street. The place (now just Footlights) should really have a plaque outside commemorating this. There was some highly enjoyable stuff (mainly from Buckley Hill himself, in full self-deprecating form), mixed with a brave attempt…and, frankly, a minor car-crash.
Like an eternity
After Buckley Hill treated us to a series of his witty comic songs, the second act was overambitious. It was somewhat foolhardy to attempt to explain and perform a complex activity, based around recalling the figures of Pi. However, the way it went off the rails was, in itself, entertaining. The performer successfully kept the audience on his side. I, like many, was a little lost, but amusingly so.
The third comedian rather died a death, with his interactions with the audience painfully awkward. He was unable to turn this awkwardness into a feature, as more skilled, more relaxed performers might have. He rather summed-up his own slot when he asked “how much longer do I have…it feels like an eternity”. Indeed, we were all relieved when Buckley Hill brought things to a close with his bucket speech reiterating the values of the Free Fringe. Peter Buckley Hill and Some Comedians has a different line-up every night, so you never know what you might be watching. The serendipitous discovery of great acts on such compilation shows is a key aspect of the Fringe.
Free is not rubbish
The battle the Free Fringe has to fight is countering the notion that “free equals rubbish”. This is clearly not the case, but the perception lingers. The Free Fringe is seen by many as an option but not really the proper Fringe. It’s something they might dip into if they find themselves with a free hour (or if they get a good flyer pitch), but not their first choice. No one would deny that poorly executed shows exist on the Free Fringe. Even Free Fringe CEO Luke Meredith concedes that “you might see something terrible” but adds the caveat that “but you might see something terrible at a ticketed show too”. Significantly, with a free show, that terrible experience is not going to cost you.
To illustrate the quality available on the Free Fringe, there are many performers who could easily do well on the paid Fringe but choose to perform via the Free Fringe. Mark Simmons is an obvious example, filling the Liquid Rooms (on the Free Fringe’s most professional venue) every day, as is Markus Birdman. So too is the well-established improv troupe Men with Coconuts. One of their founder members, Charlie Hindley relates that the experience of being on the paid Fringe “didn’t sit well with us”. They have now returned to the Free Fringe fold and have become evangelical about its role in improving cultural access.
The brutal reality
For Buckley Hill, the great scandal of the Fringe is the amount of money lost by Fringe performers. Buckley Hill’s summarises his early experiences as a Fringe performer as: “I came, I saw, I was ripped off”. He came to see the Fringe as an event largely financed by the dreams of performers, dreams that were very rarely realised. Through the pay to play model and shady middlemen, most performers made a “massive loss”, which led Buckley Hill to think “How can this cycle be broken?”.
Chris O’Neill, a comedy performer and promoter, as well as a prominent part of the Free Fringe suggests that most performers are likely to lose in the region of £10,000, even if they have decent audiences. “They are looking at about £25,000 lay out…they might get back £15k.” That this sort of brutal reality has become the norm for performers is what inspires the Free Fringe.
The Free Fringe has very creditably flourished since 1996. This year it is putting on almost 6000 performances of 500 shows. However, can it help Edinburgh deal with what Kate Copstick considers its “swirling mess”?
