Resource Category: Resources

Why Support Inclusive Arts?: with Fundraising Assistant, Shania Selvendran

A photograph of Shania, a mixed raced Sri Lankan woman in her early-mid 20's. She has long black hair in a plait along her right shoulder. She is wearing a black headband, a strip pink-white long sleeve top, black dungarees and a small green bag with the strap across the left shoulder. In the photo, she is smiling and happy, looking as though she is having an engaging conversation with another fellow peer. The image was taken at a networking event run by peer-led group, Young Arts Fundraisers.

We sat down for a chat with Fundraising Assistant, Shania Selvendran, to talk about her time with the company this year. In this blog, Shania lifts the lid on why supporting inclusive arts is vital now more than ever, paving the way for a thriving creative sector where everyone holds the power to make change.

Let’s get straight into it! Why do you think supporting inclusive arts matters?

Creativity is a human right. The act of supporting inclusive arts in today’s world matters more than ever: to reclaim spaces; to disrupt assumptions placed on marginalised communities; to better address the inequalities echoed in society from a radical new perspective.

One of the major obstacles is the huge gaps in public funding. The pandemic and cost-of-living crisis brought to the fore the lack of high-quality accessible arts experiences available in the UK. While the new government sets out its plans to unlock Britain’s £126 billion creative industries, there is still much more progress that needs to be made in the sector to celebrate disabled voices at the front and centre of the world stage.

By supporting inclusive arts, we can together build the infrastructure that supports a pipeline of extraordinary work that will challenge the world. Experiences that are bold, ever-growing, ever-innovative. Experiences that open up fairer, and equalising, spaces for all.

There is much untapped potential in the private sector too. Individual supporters can play a critical role to invest in the high value growth and sustainability of inclusive arts, now and forever.

What has been your journey into fundraising?

It all started when I hosted my own art fair at the age of 12 to raise money for a local cause… 12 years on, I’ve been bridging a career between the UK arts and charity sector, using fundraising as a catalyst to challenge attitudes, develop inclusion and ignite shared activism. I’ve not looked back since!

I’m also a Board Member with Young Arts Fundraisers – a peer-led professional network led by volunteers with a mission to champion the next generation of early-career fundraisers in the arts, cultural and heritage sectors.

A photo from the rehearsal and development of Joyride. An adult and young person are seated next to each other in a specially-created vehicle. They are outside in a school playground. The vehicle has a yellow bar across the front, and a folded-down red canvas roof and big wheels at the back. On the right, the vehicle is attached to a bicycle being ridden by a man in a white shirt and sunglasses. Two women stand on each side of the vehicle as it passes. Their arms are raised jubilantly as they release colourful balls into the air.

A panel of 3 photos of families experiencing A World Beneath Us. Photo 1 is a girl shining a torch on the mycelium mat. Photo 2 is a girl reaching into a bowl of water which is illuminated by a torch underneath. Photo 3 shows the a young person in a darkened room, looking at a coloured shadow of leaves projected on a sheet.

Current projects during Shania’s time with Oily Cart. 1. Our co-production with Ockham’s Razor, JOYRIDE (working title). 2. At Home show, A World Beneath Us 3. Baby show Great Big Tiny World

What does supporting inclusive theatre look like?

Every piece of inclusive theatre has a tiny thread of rebellion in it that binds all of us. Throughout the history of disability rights, leading activists used performances as a form of live protest, to communicate campaigns around identity, visibility, unity, connection and justice. Breaking barriers, their movement (alongside allies and clear public support) changed the law and made extraordinary artworks born out of collective action, igniting a new wave of pioneers within a forward-thinking disability culture.

From my viewpoint (and that of many peers), how companies raise money should always come back to collective action.

What are 3 best practices to think about?

Through co-production with disabled people, the communities’ voice, influence and power should be at the heart of fundraising efforts – what they want to see happen, how a campaign is run, and how their story is told. This is what I’m calling ‘expanded listening’, where strategic business development is really led by lived experiences, and to see this ripple out towards change.
We are all a philanthropist*: It is important to note that the idea of being a ‘Supporter’ is not only exclusive to high-net individuals, and becomes part of a bigger strategy. A cake sale, nature trail or even a sponsored run, theatre is better when we are all in this together.
The true spirit of giving is one where everyone holds the power to change: from one-time donations to major, multi-year gifts, you, I and the rest of society can ignite a big movement that advocates with and alongside inclusive theatre for years to come. An approach whereby every person can contribute to a democratic giving ecology is one that we should fully back.

The art of being a fundraiser is to always really interrogate, deeply reflect and question what we do and how we do it. A key aspect is how we communicate about lived experiences that might not be our own across all our fundraising efforts.

Everything we do at Oily Cart is guided by the social model of disability. From funding proposals through to grassroots campaigns, the language we use should always come from a place of ownership led by disabled people.

I think, as charity sector professionals, we can all do better through active learning, active training and active responsibility. To review best practices and share failures. To be more responsive to where we can improve, and the decisions we make, today and into the future.

A young woman with short brown hair sitting in her wheelchair. A middle aged woman with short grey hair and glasses sits next to her. They are inside the When the World Turns performance space, with a billowing tent overhead and surrounded with wooden crates and plants all around. There is atmospheric low lighting, illuminating their faces with a golden glow and casting shadows of the plant leaves. Hanging just above them is a metal bin lid.

Current projects during Shania’s time with Oily Cart. 1. Our Associate Artist (2023-25), Greta Chambers-McMillan. 2. Sound Symphony: Sensory Film 3. When the World Turns

What would you like to see happen in the future of arts fundraising?

In the future, I would like to see more organisations look to perhaps reimagine the role of being a ‘Supporter’ as being an ‘Activist’, to offer a more ethical, powerful approach to fundraising, i.e. Ambassador led patron and membership schemes or setting up a community-led fundraising board in every organisation to support with all funding streams.

Growing up as an unpaid carer for my brother, shared activism is really important in everything I do. Activism is a form of collective action, and I believe that this is the key to the future of fundraising where equality is infinite – in the arts, cultural, and heritage sector and beyond.

Let’s Donate Together; Be Together
Oily Cart, alongside a growing community of disabled young people, families, artists and allies, are a force to be reckoned with. To join us in our mission to fight for inclusive and equal access to theatre, please support us and become part of a loyal network of supporters.

*Key terms:

Philanthropy: the giving away of money, especially in large amounts, to organisations that help people (Cambridge dictionary). Greek playwright Aeschylus coined the term philanthropy in the 5th Century BCE, ‘philan’ means “the love of humanity”.

Connect with Shania on LinkedIn.
Check out the Young Arts Fundraisers website to see the latest events, and opportunities to get practical tips on all things fundraising. You can follow them on LinkedIn or Instagram.

Sensory Theatre: How to Make Interactive, Inclusive, Immersive Theatre for Diverse Audiences

Front cover of Tim Webb's book. The title is in white text: Sensory Theatre: How to Make Interactive, Inclusive, Immersive Theatre for Diverse Audiences. It is overlaid on a photo from an Oily Cart show, Blue. A performer wearing a red baker boy cap and trousers with braces extends his arm and points to something out of shot. Behind him is a projection of a starry sky. The lighting is low and blue-tinted.

At Oily Cart, we are often asked for guidance around the development and practice of Sensory Theatre. For anyone interested in learning about and making this work, Oily Cart’s Co-Founder and former Artistic Director Tim Webb MBE has published an incredible resource. Sensory Theatre is an accessible step-by-step guide to creating theatre for inclusive audiences. It’s available to purchase here and from other retailers.

For more on Oily Cart’s history and the development of Sensory Theatre, take a look at Our Story and our resources for artists. You may also be interested in Oily Cart: All Sorts of Theatre for All Sorts of Kids. Founders, actors, reviewers and audience contribute to this essential source book for anyone interested in Sensory Theatre.

Conventional theatre relies on seeing and hearing to involve its audience; sensory theatre harnesses the power of five or more senses to address its audience members who have different ways of relating to the world around them.

a groundbreaking book that opens the doors to all theatre practitioners
TYA Today Magazine, TYA/USA

This book is an insightful history of Oily Cart and its pioneering development of work by Oily Cart co-founder and former Artistic Director Tim Webb. It gives a clear introduction to the fundamental concepts of sensory theatre, suggests a host of practical techniques drawn from over forty years of experience, and describes some of Oily Cart’s most radical innovations, including theatre on trampolines, in hydrotherapy pools, and with flying audiences in the company of aerial artists.

Dive in anywhere into this fascinating book by one of the founders of the great Oily Cart Theatre Company and you will learn something refreshingly new about theatre and how it can speak to ALL of us.
Tony Graham, Freelance theatre director and former Artistic Director of Unicorn Theatre

The book also includes copious photos from the Oily Cart archives and links to video examples of the company’s work. Readers will learn how to:

Research the intended audience while not being led astray by labels.
Create a welcoming, immersive sensory space in classrooms, nurseries, school halls, and playgrounds.
Devise sensory stories that can be adapted to suit different audiences.
Recruit, audition, cast, and run rehearsals.
Ensure that the production is truly sensory and interactive.

Written for Theatre for Young Audiences, Drama in Education, and specialized Applied Theatre courses, as well as educators and theatre practitioners interested in creating inclusive, interactive productions, Sensory Theatre offers a goldmine of ideas for making work that connects with audiences who can be the hardest to reach.

Come check out Tim Webb’s exciting, engaging, and important new book!
David Montgomery, Director of the Program in Educational Theatre at New York University

Much like the shows that Oily Cart creates, this book is a wonder. Based simply on the company’s reputation alone, anyone who has ever attended an Oily Cart performance should grab a copy. But the text is much more than a compilation of past achievements. Instead it is guidebook, a reference, an encyclopedia into the worlds of TVY (theatre for the very young), Sensory Theatre, into theatre that is truly created for ALL audiences
Mark Branner, Professor of Theatre, University of Hawaii at Manoa

Vitally important book that every theatre professional and student must read.
T.A. Fisher, Associate Professor in the Department of Communication Arts and Sciences at Bronx Community College (CUNY)

Aerial view of a performance of Mr and Mrs Moon. Performers and audience member play, make sandcastles and draw pictures together inside a big circular sand pit. — Mr and Mrs Moon 2012. Sandy played by Natasha Magigi in the giant sandpit where she and the participants all make sandcastles and draw pictures together

Production shot from Big Balloon. The aeronaut (played by Griff Fender) is in his hot air balloon, overseeing the action. A huge inflated balloon-shape lies on its side in front of him, and glowing orb shapes hang from the roof. — Big Balloon 2008. The aeronaut (Griff Fender) in his hot air balloon oversees the action at the Unicorn Theatre. An Oily Cart production for under-fives.

‘Finding the space between’: Sensory Theatre and Community

Siobhan, a blond white woman in her 20s wearing a black and white striped top, sits inside a drum-shaped ball pool. Next to her is a baby holding onto the edge of the ball pool. Siobhan is throwing a ball out, towards a figure in the foreground also wearing black and white.

Written by Participatory Artist Siobhán Wedgeworth

Over the past year, I have had the chance to immerse myself in the world of Oily Cart and sensory theatre. It’s reinforced to me that my creative world and practice is much better when it is theatre which we can taste, touch, smell, feel, see, hear and experience together – not in isolation. Doing maternity cover as Access and Engagement Officer, my tasks ranged from carrying several bunches of red roses across Edinburgh’s Royal Mile to leading Oily Cart’s first community workshops in our Sensory Play Programme.

A baby held leaning on a parent's knee looks at a drum with torch light being shone through it. — Baby Drum Sensory Play Session. Photo: Rosie Simsek

Community is an interesting word when it comes to theatre. It’s often talked about as a ‘communal space’, but as this illustration by Play Radical’s Max Alexander shows, it’s a different thing entirely being together in commune in a way that feels authentic to each person, especially if much of the audience is disabled.

Two illustrations side by side. On the left ‘BEING TOGETHER’ a uniform graphic with blue circles on a page. On the right ‘BEING OURSELVES, TOGETHER’ a graphic with varied shapes and colours - squiggles, circles, ovals, curvy lines, spiky lines, small lines splattered across the graphic. — Illustration by Max Alexander

Community participatory arts is often seen as lesser than ‘main stage’ theatre shows. While this statement is not a new revelation and there has been growing development of wonderful engagement and community projects nationally, there is still more to be done for projects which involve and invite children and families who experience the most barriers to access (often labelled as PMLD – Profound and Multiple Learning Disabilities). I’m interested in the space between the two: where high quality theatre can pop up in unexpected, everyday, familiar places, and people feel ownership and have more power in their everyday communities and spaces.

Organisations can learn from community arts projects how to build a community around the work they are touring by building long term relationships with the local community through regular free sessions, visiting schools and development opportunities to name a few. By doing this, arts organisations would get to understand the bread and butter of each community, how news travels from Whatsapp group to Whatsapp group or at the local caff.

“Working in non-arts contexts offers opportunities for new conversations: creative and verbal, collective and individual”
Nicola Naismith, 2019

Despite the importance of working in non-arts contexts, I wonder: how can we dissolve the idea that we must go to “them”? Instead, let’s see theatre makers and arts organisations shift their practice to a sustained and focused effort on making our creative spaces welcoming; becoming part of the community, rather than a closed space.

I am currently working with Spark Arts for Children as one of their Vital Spark Artists, a movement addressing the lack of diversity in the Performance for Young Audiences (PYA) sector. Spark have found an exciting balance of these two worlds, with shows taking place in families’ homes, school halls, libraries and local arts venues across Leicester. With families and children at the heart of the festival, I feel excited by how this model could be adopted nationwide with touring throughout the year. I feel inspired by my time with Oily Cart to continue exploring sensory theatre and how I can make ambitious, high quality work that sits neatly bang in the middle between these two worlds and really own it!

“Sensory Theatre might even be seen as not a different or special way of making theatre, but maybe just the way that makes the most sense, so everyone can come?”
Young artist Coery Nicholson at Oily Cart’s 40th Celebration

If you would like to find out more about my work and have a chat you can find me at
siobhanwedgeworth@gmail.com
https://siobhanwedgeworth.carrd.co/
Twitter @siobhanwedge

References:

Max Alexander, Play Radical. Communal Space as an autistic person or: What’s the big deal about other people? 2020 [online]. https://playradical.com/2020/02/27/communal-space-as-an-autistic-person-or-whats-the-big-deal-about-other-people/comment-page-1/?unapproved=638&moderation-hash=13df8389821f542fd3ec249cf853b4d3#comment-638

NAISMITH, N. 2019. Artists practising well. Aberdeen: Robert Gordon University [online]. Available from: https://doi.org/10.48526/rgu-wt-235847

The Spark Arts for Children About the festival [online]. https://thesparkarts.co.uk/festival/about-the-festival

Positive Risk

Two white women in their 20’s on a beach. The beach is covered in slushy snow. Behind the women you can see wiggly wheelchair tracks. One woman is wrapped up in a coat, with the furry hood up and a red woolly hat underneath, she has a big pink blanket on her lap and is sitting in a wheelchair, this is Mary. The woman next to her is standing up, they are holding hands. This woman is also wrapped in a thick coat with the hood up. This is Esther. They look cold but they are smiling.

Listen to the audio version of this blog

Oily Cart are collaborating with contemporary circus company Ockham’s Razor, known for their spectacular shows that blend circus and visual theatre. Last time we worked together, we created a show that took audiences up into the air!

For this show, we’re excited to explore the unexpected again, and play with positive risk and the kinaesthetic sense (the sense of movement). We spoke with Esther Veale about her sister Mary, and the value of risky experiences for people who experience the most barriers to access.

What does Positive Risk mean to you and your family?

When I think of positive risk I think, with my heart full of love and of pride, of my older sister. Mary was born in April 1983 with severe disabilities and lived a life full of colour and music and outdoor adventures. She lived far longer and more fully than the doctors at the time suggested she would. Very sadly, Mary died in 2017, just a month before turning 34, but through positive risk taking, Mary was able to wring every wonderful ounce out of life.

Can you tell us about some of Mary’s riskiest adventures?

Mary loved to cycle using a wheelchair tandem called a Duet: eyes wide and exhilarated at going fast downhill, then giggling as we would very slowly struggle, pedalling up the other side. My family would often paddle in canoes up and down a nearby canal in all seasons, and take walks in the beautiful Devonshire countryside with Mary using a wheelchair called a Rough Rider. With will and determination from Mary and family and friends supporting her, there were few places that we couldn’t get to. Moorland, muddy paths, pebbly beaches.

Being by the sea was really important. Not just being by it – it was important for Mary to be on it and in it! A local surf shop made an accessible wetsuit so she could stay warm enough to play in the water and bounce around in a dinghy in the waves.

This photo is taken from the top of a climbing wall on a sunny day. It shows Mary in her late teens, wearing green trousers, a teal jumper and a red climbing helmet. There are ropes attached to her wheelchair with several knots and slings. Next to Mary is an instructor wearing shorts, tshirt and an orange climbing helmet. He has one hand on the handle of Mary’s wheelchair and one hand on the rope. Both Mary and the instructor look focused but relaxed. — Mary abseiling.

Mary loved drinking tea. She would communicate that she wanted a cup of tea by smacking her lips. One of my most striking memories of Mary is of her abseiling. Just before going over the edge, Mary communicated that she wanted a cup of tea, so a tea break was had partway down the abseil, 15 feet up in the air!

Later on in Mary’s life, her physical and medical needs meant a change of pace but positive risk taking was still important. It meant delaying the fitting of a gastrostomy tube until it was needed rather than as a precaution, so Mary could continue to enjoy tasting and swallowing those favoured cups of tea for that bit longer.

From your perspective what is the value of risk for people who experience many barriers to access?

I think there’s a good understanding that taking positive risks is vital for anyone’s wellbeing; we acknowledge that it is by taking risks that we achieve and grow.

If you don’t experience barriers to access, you can make these decisions about risk for yourself. If you are dependent on others for your basic needs to be met then you are somewhat reliant on others around you to manage the experiences that you have. As friends, family, teachers and supporters of people with physical, sensory, communication and cognitive differences it is our duty to listen deeply to what the people we love and care for are telling us about what they experience and what they enjoy and to provide more of these. We need to be brave, willing co-adventurers.

This shows Mary in her late teens, she has light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and is wearing sunglasses. Mary is lying in a yellow and red dinghy,she is wearing a purple and black wetsuit and neoprene gloves cover her hands. Someone out of shot is holding Mary’s hands and both of their hands are in the picture. There is movement in the water around her and Mary has a broad smile, you can see her teeth and the dimples in her cheeks. — Mary in a dinghy

Why should theatre makers consider kinaesthetic sense (the sense of movement) and risk when they are making shows that are inclusive for everyone?

We all have a need to experience movement, be that hang gliding, or drumming fingers to a beat. When your bodily movements are restricted because of your physicality, there is a risk that this need to move is unmet, or that it happens in functional ways like being hoisted or pushed in a chair. We need to consider kinaesthetic experience for fun, creativity and expression too. It seems a natural fit with theatre: as an audience member, you want to go on a journey and be emotionally moved, and being physically moved can be an important part of that.

Mary is pictured here in her early 30s in some woodland in early Spring. Mary is seated in an electric wheelchair, with a pale leg cosy covering her lower half. Mary is looking upwards and to her left with a beaming smile on her face. — Mary in woodland

There is a powerful connection element to this too; sharing an experience of movement together can shorten the distance between people who understand and experience the world in very different ways, and invite communication without words. I felt very connected to Mary when we cycled together. We would both notice the differences in speed and respond with synchronicity through squeals and giggles! “Did you feel that lurch as we went over the bridge? Me too!” Here we are experiencing the same thing together in this very moment and isn’t it thrilling? For Mary, connection and communication could happen at their deepest through kinaesthetic experiences. Movement has the potential to be moving.

In honour of Mary’s life, the ‘Mary’s Beat’ fund has been created which awards grants to disabled people in Devon and Somerset so that they can access musical or outdoor adventures

Note: Oily Cart follows the social model of disability. We acknowledge that different people use different language, as reflected in this interview.

Why loos are important

A spacious Changing places toilet. The far wall is blue, the wall to the right is white. There is a sink and bin on the left. A toilet and seat are on the back wall with grab rails and support walls. There is a hoist in the ceiling, and a blue change bench on the right.

Talking about loos used to make me squirm with embarrassment. But since being diagnosed with a chronic pain condition 15 years ago, I’ve realised just how important they are. Did you know, you’ll spend more of your adult life on the toilet than you do at school, or socialising, or laughing? We all need access to safe, clean facilities, which is why the Changing Places campaign to install toilets for disabled people who experience the most barriers to access is so vital…

The pandemic forced us to talk about toilets. At the start, we stockpiled Andrex; later on, a socially-distanced drink in the park became a quest to find places to pee. The closure of many public loos during lockdowns meant that the next best option was a secluded bush – or just staying home watching Tiger King (again). This limit to people’s freedom impacted not only on personal wellbeing, but created a public health risk.

As a nation, we’ve collectively experienced the frustration and indignity of a lack of loos. So we should collectively exercise empathy – and action – for those who experience this as a daily reality, even after the lockdowns. What’s known as the ‘urinary leash’ impacts marginalised communities the most. The lives of women, pregnant people, disabled people, the elderly, trans people and others can be majorly restricted based on the availability of public facilities. Like many, my disability means I plan my day and my movements around access to loos. Like many, I have intentionally dehydrated myself, spent hours in pain, or been trapped at home.

Blue circular symbol. Figure by changing bench on the left. Figure using a wheelchair underneath a hoist on the right. — The Changing Places symbol

Today, public toilets are under threat, for instance half have been closed in London over the past decade. But even the available toilets are not accessible for everyone. A quarter of a million people in the UK need Changing Places toilets. Changing Places toilets provide the space and equipment, like a bench and hoist, needed by disabled people who experience the most barriers to access. Without them, the only option is to be changed on the floor – or not leave the house at all. This is, as the Changing Places Consortium says, ‘dangerous, unhygienic and undignified.’

The number of Changing Places toilets is rising, but there are still nowhere near enough. Lack of a suitable toilet might make the difference between a child being able to go and see a show or not, and yet theatres are still being built without these facilities. The Changing Places Consortium is campaigning for Changing Places toilets to be installed in all public venues so that spaces we all have a right to – like the theatre – are accessible for everyone.

Why are loos important? Because offering free, clean toilets is one of the easiest ways to improve individual and public health and make the community accessible to everyone. Loos offer us freedom, and their availability, upkeep and closure is a political statement about who is welcome, and who belongs.

You can find ways to support the Changing Places campaign here.

Removing barriers for people with invisible disabilities

Illustration of a woman of colour standing with her hands on her hips. She is wearing a pink top, yellow shorts and red roller skates, and winking. Next to her is text in red: 'Not all disabilities are visible'

Flossie Waite, Communications & Advocacy Officer

I’m one of the 70% of disabled people with an invisible (sometimes called hidden or non-visible) disability. Many disabilities aren’t immediately, or ever, visible, including mental health conditions, autoimmune conditions, and neurodivergence. Though my disabilities can’t be seen, that does not mean I don’t experience barriers to access.

For me, a huge part of my experience of having an invisible disability is the struggle to be believed, both by society but also by myself. I struggle with other peoples’ assumptions – I look fine, so I must be fine – but also my own internalised ableism: that I’m not disabled, I’m just making a fuss. I’ve often policed myself, choosing not to use disabled toilets or seats on the tube for fear of judgement from others that I don’t ‘look’ disabled.

I want to share some things the arts industry can do to remove barriers for employees and freelancers with invisible disabilities. These are based on my personal experience, so they balance practical tips with strategies for lifting the burden of proof that I, and maybe others, feel. I’d encourage everyone to also look to other incredible artists and organisations like Daryl & Co, Graeae, TourettesHero, Birds of Paradise, Unlimited and Access All Areas for guidance on how to work inclusively.

avoid disabled people having to advocate for or explain their needs. In my experience, it can be easy for people to forget what they can’t see, so the responsibility falls on the disabled person to offer reminders. This can feel like having to evidence your disability, which is daunting.
ensure that access audits and access riders are active documents. (You can find an example access audit here and access rider template here). The Access Lead should be really familiar with the contents and offer regular opportunities to update the information
don’t ask people to disclose more than they want to. The hidden nature of invisible disabilities can make it difficult to understand how they impact a person’s life. However, it’s important to accept and believe the access information offered to you.
frame accommodations as a statement, not a question. Rather than asking if someone would like a break, or like to use the Quiet Room, build breaks into all sessions and make clear the Quiet Room is always available. Making lots of choices can be tiring, and when your choices might impact on the people you’re working with – for instance, by pausing a meeting – it’s easy not to prioritise your needs.
don’t be afraid to be proactive. For instance, an artist might need regular rest breaks but get into a work flow and lose track of time – it’s okay to gently draw attention to the time and suggest a pause.
be aware of dynamic disabilities. Some invisible disabilities mean a person might be able to do certain things on some days but not on others. Create an open, flexible environment so that this can be communicated and accommodated without judgement.

Finally, remember that many people have both visible and invisible disabilities. The most important guidance is perhaps the most simple: “Do not make assumptions. Everyone’s experience is unique.”

Header image by Ananya Rao-Middleton. Ananya is a disabled illustrator and activist. You can find out more about her work here

Something Love: Accessible Creative Practices

Zoom screen with 3 participants, including a young person sat on a rug surrounded by different colour and shaped plastic balls and holding two orange balls. The other participants are also holding up one plastic ball to their eye and holding their other hand up close to the camera in a C shape.

When the pandemic began, we found we weren’t allowed into theatres and schools, or any of the places we normally perform. We couldn’t create close-up, interactive shows that used touch as a central technique, either. We quickly realised we needed to reimagine the entire format of how we usually work. We called this our ‘Uncancellable Programme’. Our priority was to make sure that audiences who have barriers to access were still being served during Covid-19 and did not become invisible. We took our shows onto doorsteps and into playgrounds, delivered performances through Zoom and posted packages. And, for the first time, we did an R&D to ask the question: how can sensory theatre translate into film work?

The project was called Something Love, and it was made for and with neurodivergent and Autistic young people. It was process-driven, rather than outcome-driven, to give us plenty of space to play without pressure, and to explore how to make the creative process accessible. Standard creative processes, even those with some access built in, can create barriers for disabled and chronically ill artists, including expected working hours, lack of flexibility, and physically inaccessible and / or non-relaxed spaces. Something Love stemmed from one of the artists reflecting that the creative solutions found for remote working when the pandemic hit did not feel wholly positive. He had not been able to work in the industry for a decade as it was deemed not possible to structure processes in a way that he could access; suddenly, working remotely enabled him and it became clear that there were approaches that could have worked all along.

We wanted to understand what creating remotely offered us, that we could take forward as accessible working practices when Covid is over. Here are some thoughts from the Something Love creative team, with thanks also to the many incredible companies and artists like Graeae, Access All Areas and Daryl Beeton who are so generous in sharing accessibility best practice.

Firstly, one of the biggest things that makes a creative process accessible is its structure. To understand what structure we needed to build, we sent access audits to the whole team at the very start (with the option to go through this together on the phone and / or have a follow up chat), and welcomed access riders (there’s more information about access riders and templates here and here). Whilst the creative team spoke at the beginning of the project about access being everyone’s responsibility, we also found it really helpful to have someone leading on access, whose role it was to ensure all access requirements were being supported. By having this person present, and their role reinforced at every meeting, they became the go-to person for the whole team for anything related to access. Some artists may also want to work with a Creative Enabler – a term coined by Graeae theatre company for a support worker who collaborates artistically with the creative.

Working remotely, it was important to find ways to keep the team connected. Before the first meeting, we sent everyone a red squishy heart (an image connected to the project) which we all had to hand in meetings and sessions. We set up a Slack channel where people could share footage, images and audio of what they’d been working on and keep in touch. And to mark the end of the process, we organised an online premiere, with a pack of goodies sent to each person as a thank you.

Agendas and plans were sent out a couple of days before any meeting or session. All meetings were held on Zoom, in a relaxed format – we started each session with a reminder that everyone was welcome to turn their camera and mic off and on, to move around and stand up, leave and come back as needed. We limited the length of meetings to an hour and a half, including a 20 minute rest break, and finished with a ‘soft ending’ – 15 minutes after the end of the meeting agenda for anyone who wanted to stay online to ask a question, give feedback, make a point or just have a chat.

Zoom screen with four participants, all holding up a red squishy heart. — Zoom creative session

It’s important to put as much in place to support mental health and wellbeing as you do any other illness or disability. We found that emotional support is required for this – a member of the team was a Mental Health First Aider and we also worked with an external artist wellbeing consultant. During this process, we had a wellbeing check-in mid-way through the creative process with each member of the creative team – just an informal phone call or Zoom to see how they were doing and whether there was any additional support we could put in place for the remainder of the project. This might be something you consider doing more than once during a creative process.

Of course, creating remotely might not be the most accessible format for everyone – that’s something the access audits and chats can help you to understand at the start – so as the world opens back up, you could consider a blended approach that allows for both ways of working.

It’s important to acknowledge that there were things we found hard, we got wrong, and we would do differently next time. It was difficult giving the clarity needed for timetabling and planning, for instance, in a devised process where the project was constantly shifting and the team was figuring it out as they went, creatively. Whilst having a range of ways to keep in touch was positive, in future we will have a focus for how each platform is used, and limit who from the organisation delivers information, to reduce communication becoming overwhelming or confusing. We also found it can be tricky to create budgets that balance supporting flexibility within the process, with having the widest reach and impact for the audience. And there are limitations on how flexible you can be as a small company, which is possibly why many organisations focus on access for either audience or artists. As part of an inclusive cultural recovery, we should all want to move towards projects being accessible for both.

Top Tips on working more accessibly from the Something Love team:

Elements of the creative process, or the whole creative process, can be done online, which can really open up access for some artists. It allows for shorter bursts of activity where energy is focused purely on the project rather than travel etc.
Do Access Audits and welcome Access Riders from the whole team at the beginning of the process to ensure you can put the right support in place, like working with Creative Enablers.
Slow the process down – allow plenty of time and be flexible to meetings needing to be rearranged last minute.
Be mindful of language. Using phrases like ‘it will just take a minute’ or responding to requests for support with ‘Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take too long to do together’ can minimize the experience of artists who, for instance, have energy management conditions, and reinforces an expected speed of working that creates barriers.
Listen. No one gets it right all the time – the most important thing is to really genuinely be trying to listen to the stuff that is difficult to hear.