Frontline Arts Festival – a brilliant: warm, welcoming, engaging, thought-provoking, fun day, where I have felt included and I feel a sense of belonging to this wonderful creative community.
Photography by Jenny Harper
Article by Caroline Butterwick…
“I was a bit nervous about coming along today, but everyone seems really friendly,” a fellow festival attendee says as we sit and chat over coffee in the Main Hall of the Catalyst Building at Staffordshire University. We’re here for the Frontline Arts Festival, a celebration of disabled, d/Deaf and neurodivergent artists, taking place for the day on 28th March. Led by FRONTLINEdance, the event is filled with performances, panels and networking.
As a disabled writer – I’m visually impaired and have experienced mental ill health – I’m curious to discover what today brings. One of the things I’m particularly interested in is the accessibility of a big event like this, as I know that access and inclusion is an important part of FRONTLINEdance’s approach. As much as I enjoy arts events, I often face barriers, from not being able to see what’s happening on stage to feeling anxious in crowded spaces. Like the participant I spoke to earlier, I admit to being a little nervous too, as much as I’m looking forward to the day.
And like my fellow festival attendee, I’m already reassured. There are lots of volunteers, sporting FRONTLINEdance t-shirts, who make sure to welcome people as they arrive, and who explain how the day will work. Being given a printed out schedule on arrival has been helpful too, as I’m someone who likes certainty and structure.
And soon, I’m speaking with Tim Calvert, a professional audio describer, who sets me up with a headset so I’ll be able to hear his live audio commentary of the day. I often use audio description when going to the theatre, and am pleasantly surprised that the headset Tim hands me is comfier than ones I’ve used previously. It had one earpiece, which rests gently over my right ear, and a couple of cables connecting it to a small control so I can change the volume and turn it on and off.
I filter into the Gallery room, an impressive space with a stage at the front and then rows of chairs that are already filling up. I take a seat near the front, and listen as musician Katy Rose Bennett strums her guitar and sings her ethereal folk songs. Tim is sitting at the back of the room, and I hear him through my earpiece as he fills in the visual details, everything from Katy’s blue Gibson to the layout of the room. I can still hear Katy’s music clearly over the audio description. Tim points out that there are two British Sign Language interpreters working today, one of whom is currently at the front of the room giving a BSL interpretation of Katy’s lyrics.
Rachael Lines, who’s the Artistic Director of FRONTLINEdance, takes to the stage. She gives an audio description of herself, and introduces the event. “The whole point of today is that you meet someone new,” she says, and I realise I’ve already met one new person, and it’s not even 10.30am. She explains how the Frontline Arts Festival aims to get more disabled artists work, and the plan for there to be more performances throughout the year.
The day brings a mix of talented people to the accessible stage. We enjoy poetry from Shaun Fallows that weaves together humour and emotion; and confessional, poignant poems from Louise Fazackerley and Natasha Tingle exploring mental health.
There is an engaging panel discussion, chaired by Kelsie Acton, who is a neurodivergent access consultant, and researcher, where artists discuss the reality of working as disabled, d/Deaf and neurodivergent creatives. The audience makes the most of asking questions to the panel on topics such as what best practice looks like in supporting disabled artists, and I find myself nodding my head at so much of what they say – everything from the issues of tokenism in the arts to what makes an event truly accessible.
Tim’s audio description is helpful throughout, but for me, it’s most valuable when it comes to the premiere of the screen dance film, What? Me, Worry?, shown on a large screen at the front of the room. The film is by FRONTLINEdance associate artist Kayleigh Price and filmmaker Jay Gearing, two neurodivergent artists who have collaborated to create a screen dance film exploring Kayleigh’s lived experience of anxiety.
As the film plays, Tim describes the action on the screen: the scene at the start, and then Kayleigh’s dance – how her body arches, convulses, how she reaches for the sky. It isn’t just a literal description of her movement – there is a level of insight and depth that helps me fill in the emotion. I learn of how she is “moving her body like she has no control over it”, how she’s “struggling with what she’s experiencing”, how “her face is totally still, showing no emotion like frozen in time”.
Ordinarily, a film like this – especially one without dialogue – would leave me feeling left out. But with this audio description, I feel part of the shared experience.
So, what does make an event truly accessible? I wonder this as we filter back into the Main Hall for lunch – provided in individual carry bags, so none of my awkward trying to figure out what’s in a buffet. This is also a helpful approach for those with smell sensitivity.
I ask Gay Hoban, who is an active part of the North Staffs Pensioners’ Convention, about how she has found today’s experience so far. “It’s very inclusive and welcoming,” she says as we chat over lunch. She tells me how the North Staffs Pensioners’ Convention want to run an event around disability, and that her experience at the Frontline Arts Festival has shown the ways an event can be accessible and inclusive. “Today has inspired me,” she says. “And I feel I have contacts now to help make that happen.”
After lunch there is a fascinating presentation with James Lake, a sculptor who works with cardboard, and dancers Welly O’Brien and Victoria Fox-Markiewicz, where they discuss their joint FRONTLINEdance commission which gave the three of them the time to explore new creative ideas through a residency together. Again, Tim gives audio description throughout, describing the images displayed on the screen, like James’s impressive sculptures of people and buildings, crafted entirely from cardboard. This audio description helps me feel included.
The last main event of the day is a ‘Pitch and Mix’ speed networking event, which is a structured form of networking. It feels more accessible: I’d usually find myself loitering by the drinks table at a standard networking event, nervously scanning the room for someone to speak to and hoping no one notices I’m glugging my fourth cup of coffee. Half of the participants are seated at tables, and the rest of us go between them, with five minutes per table before being asked to switch. This makes it much easier to start conversations as you don’t have to try to find someone to speak to, and is also a great way of meeting a range of people. I have interesting conversations with new people, as well as reconnecting with existing contacts. There are people working across a range of creative disciplines: I speak with dancers, poets, and ceramicists, and leave with new connections made.
The day ends with more poetry from Shaun and folk music from Katy Rose, and a real sense that this is an event that has impacted so many people positively. Access has been very much woven through the day, which has included BSL interpretation, a chill out room, and lots of staff and volunteers on hand. And, for me, it’s having audio description that allows me to feel an equal part of this experience.
The day has been brilliant: warm, welcoming, engaging, thought-provoking, fun. I have felt included. I have lots to think about as a disabled artist, and I feel a sense of belonging to this wonderful creative community.
Caroline Butterwick
