Reaching Audiences: Distribution and Promotion of Alternative Moving Image 1841501573, 9781841501574

Citation preview

9 781841 501574

intellect | www.intellectbooks.com

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Julia Knight is a professor in moving image at the University of Sunderland. Peter Thomas is an independent scholar/visiting lecturer at University of Bedfordshire and a member of the Exploding Cinema collective.

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developed over the last 40 years by an array of small companies on the periphery of the beleaguered UK film industry. That their practices are now being replicated by a new generation of digital distributors demonstrates that, while the digital ‘revolution’ has rendered those practices far easier to undertake and hugely increased their scope, the key issues in securing a more diverse moving image culture are not technological. Although largely invisible to outsiders, the importance of distributors and distribution networks are widely recognized within the industry, and Reaching Audiences is a key contribution to our understanding of the role they both do and can play.

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From Hollywood blockbusters to artists’ film and video, distributors play a vital role in getting films to audiences. Their acquisition policies, promotional practices and level of resources determine what is available, shaping the very nature of our film culture. Reaching Audiences is centrally concerned with the distribution practices that have been developed to counter Hollywood’s traditional dominance of the marketplace, and ensure audiences have access to a more diverse moving image culture. Through a series of case studies, the book tracks the inventive distribution and exhibition initiatives

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Reaching Audiences

To Lance, Sam and Jake, and to Maisoon, Heather and Pamela. Our most sincere thanks for all your support and patience.

Reaching Audiences

Distribution and Promotion of Alternative Moving Image

Julia Knight and Peter Thomas

intellect Bristol, UK / Chicago, USA

First published in the UK in 2011 by Intellect, The Mill, Parnall Road, Fishponds, Bristol, BS16 3JG, UK First published in the USA in 2011 by Intellect, The University of Chicago Press, 1427 E. 60th Street, Chicago, IL 60637, USA Copyright © 2011 Intellect Ltd All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Front cover: Portraits of the Flat Iron, New York 2010 and Portraits of Spitalfields, London 2010, Terry Flaxton (Photo: Charlotte Humpston) Light Music (2 screen version), Lis Rhodes, Paris 1975 (courtesy of the artist) Video sharing website interface, 2010 (courtesy of Peter Thomas) Cover designer: Sarah Newman Copy-editor: Macmillan Typesetting: Mac Style, Beverley, E. Yorkshire ISBN 978-1-84150-157-4 Printed and bound by Hobbs, UK.

Contents Acknowledgements 7 Foreword by Geoffrey Nowell-Smith

9

List of Abbreviations

11

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

13

Chapter 1: DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: The London Film-Makers’ Co-op

37

Chapter 2: Exhibition, Political Agendas and Access to Audiences: The Other Cinema and Cinema of Women

69

Chapter 3: Technology, Television and Seeking Wider Audiences: London Video Access/London Electronic Arts and Albany Video Distribution

99

Chapter 4: Promotion, Selection and Engaging Audiences: Circles, Film and Video Umbrella, London Video Access and London Film-Makers’ Co-op

137

Chapter 5: Changing Conditions, Under-Resourcing and Self-Sustainability: Cinenova 185 Chapter 6: Questions of Strategy, Policy and Agency: The Lux Saga

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Chapter 7: Understanding Distribution

261

Appendix: Research Sources

277

Select Bibliography

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Index

293

Acknowledgements

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his book is one of the outcomes of two research projects undertaken between 2002 and 2005 with funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC). Full details of the projects can be found at alt-fv-distribution.net. We gratefully acknowledge the AHRC’s support, without which the research would not have been possible. For their various assistance in helping with the research on which this book is based, and with the accompanying Film and Video Distribution Database at fv-distribution-database. ac.uk (which was also AHRC funded), we would like to offer our sincere thanks to the following: Tom Abell, Karen Alexander, Dominic Angerame, Steven Ball, George Barber, Eddie Berg, Simon Blanchard, Steven Bode, Elaine Burrows, Jo Cadaret, Ian Christie, Ben Cook, David Critchley, David Curtis, Larry Daressa, Peter Dean, Helen de Witt, Tony Dowmunt, Mark Duguid, Mick Eadie, Deb Ely, Andi Engel, Sonali Fernando, Terry Flaxton, Alan Fountain, Rudolph Frieling, William Fowler, Chris Garratt, Peter Gidal, Clive Gillman, Jane Gowman, David Hall, Sue Hall, Liane Harris, Sylvia Harvey, Jackie Hatfield, Emma Hedditch, Gill Henderson, Judith Higginbottom, John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins, Sophie Howarth, Laura Hudson, David James, Mick Kidd, Edith Kramer, Mike Leggett, Steve Littman, Abina Manning, Paul Marris, Murray Martin, Michael Maziere, Steve McIntyre, Eileen McNulty, John Mhiripiri, Karen Mirza, Peter Mudie, Laura Mulvey, Kate Norrish, Mike O’Pray, Jane Parish, Stephen Partridge, Richard Paterson, Jim Pines, Rick Prelinger, Duncan Reekie, AL Rees, Maisoon Rehani, Lucy Reynolds, Lis Rhodes, Graeme Rigby, Chris Rodrigues, Peter Sainsbury, Philip Sanderson, Erich Sargeant, Nancy Sarre, MM Serra, Guy Sherwin, Caroline Smith, Mark Smith, Felicity Sparrow, Mike Sperlinger, Rod Stoneman, Geoff Stow, Mike Stubbs, Bronwyn Tarrier, Mike Taylor, Anna Thew, Gary Thomas, John Thompson, Albie Thoms, Margaret Trotter, Sarah Turner, Marion Urch, Mark Webber, Jeremy Welsh, Sandy Wieland, Irene Whitehead, John Wyver and Debra Zimmerman.

Foreword

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ommodities, Karl Marx observed 150 years ago, do not go to market all on their own. Someone has to take them there. Goods must be moved, prices agreed, and only after a long and complicated process will the commodity in question be there for the end-user to enjoy. This applies to films and videos as much as it does to any other commodity, and it applies even in that sector of the film and video business that likes to think of itself as remote from and even antagonistic to the regular processes of commodity exchange. But perhaps because of this aversion, the process by which commodities get to market – generally referred to in the film trade as distribution – is the least studied of all the aspects of cinema and other forms of moving image. A lot is written about film and video production, about the films and videos produced and about how they are perceived/ received by the spectator, but very little about the intermediate stages between production and consumption. Sometimes it seems as if, in the world of cinema and the moving image, commodities do indeed mysteriously get to market all on their own. Now admittedly films and videos are quite special commodities and sometimes may appear not to be commodities at all, particularly in those parts of the art world which manage to hold vulgar economics at a comfortable distance, cushioned by patronage, subsidy and the like. They are special because the needs and desires they satisfy are spiritual rather than material. Their field of operation is cultural rather than (or as much as) economic. Again Marx anticipated this objection, remarking right at the beginning of Capital that it makes no fundamental difference whether the need the commodities in question satisfy is that of the belly or the fantasy. Something circulates, and at some point in its circulation it becomes subject to the laws of commodity exchange. To some extent this is received wisdom. The notion of cultural industries (or in the New Labour variant, creative industries) is now widely accepted and with it the notion of films or videos as commodities, or culture-goods as I would prefer to call them. What is striking about this book is that it extends the analysis of the two-faced nature of these goods – at the same time economic and cultural – into the rarely trodden and generally held to be arid field of distribution. For, unlike the mainstream film industry, in the world of artists’ film and video it was distribution where cultural interchanges were at their most intense. The artist might perform a solitary labour (in extreme cases, just him/herself, a camera and

Reaching Audiences

a landscape), reception might be no less solitary (particularly with the advent of video), but the intermediate world where films were assessed and ways devised to bring them to prospective audiences was one throbbing with collective life and political-cultural debate. Of course the mechanics were important, since the life of a small organisation could depend crucially on whether it could send films out to customers in a cost-effective way. But the mechanical parts of the operation were only carried out because workers in the field had a passionate commitment to the type, or types, of film and video for which they were finding an audience. As Julia Knight and Peter Thomas point out in their Introduction to this volume, the types of film and video grouped together under the generic heading of ‘independent’ were indeed many and varied, ranging from the most practically political to the most aesthetically refined. They shared what the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein called a ‘family resemblance’ rather than any form of doctrinally defined unity. Although some might have a fringe relationship to the world of commercial cinema, what they most crucially had in common was a need to locate audiences outside the world of mainstream cinema-going. This externally conditioned common cause was not without effects of its own, fascinatingly documented in the book. On the one hand it led to internal arguments, often incomprehensible to the outside world. But on the other hand it could also contribute to a genuine unity of purpose in a counterculture which did not merely co-exist with but actively opposed the values of the mainstream. Film and video distribution was vital to this counterculture throughout the 1970s and into the 1980s and beyond, and the lessons of that period are of continuing relevance even in a world where films and videos are distributed via the internet rather than by cyclists carrying cans of film from venue to venue. Geoffrey Nowell-Smith

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List of Abbreviations ABW ACE ACGB ACTT AFC AFSC AFVC AFVSC AVD BAFTA BAFVSC BFI BOD CoRAA COW DCMS DNH EGM ERDF EVE FACOP FMC FMOT FMVAoT FVU GLA GLAA GLEB GLC GOL

Association of Black Workshops Arts Council England and Arts Council of England Arts Council of Great Britain Association of Cinematograph Television and allied Technicians Art Film Committee and Artists’ Films Committee Artists’ Films Sub-Committee Artists’ Film & Video Committee Artists’ Film & Video Sub-Committee Albany Video Distribution British Academy of Film and Television Arts British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection British Film Institute Board of Directors Council of Regional Arts Associations Cinema of Women Department of Culture, Media and Sport Department of National Heritage Extraordinary General Meeting European Regional Development Fund Espace Vidéo Européen Friends of the Arts Council – Operative The Film-Makers’ Cooperative (New York) Film-Makers on Tour Film-Makers and Video Artists on Tour Film and Video Umbrella Greater London Arts Greater London Arts Association Greater London Enterprise Board Greater London Council Government Office of London

Reaching Audiences

ICA ICW IFA IFVA IFVPA IRAT IT JFSG LAB LBGS LEA LFMC LFVDA LVA MCC MOMI NAC NATFHE OAL RAA RAB RCC RFT SEFT SWA TOC UKFC VAL VCR VET WFTVN WMM

Institute of Contemporary Arts Independent Cinema West Independent Film-Makers’ Association Independent Film- and Video-Makers’ Association Independent Film, Video and Photography Association Institute for Research into Art and Technology International Times Joint Funders Strategy Group London Arts Board London Borough Grants Scheme London Electronic Arts London Film-Makers’ Co-op London Film & Video Development Agency London Video Arts and London Video Artists and London Video Access Metropolitan County Council Museum of Moving Image New Activities Committee National Association of Teachers in Further and Higher Education Office of Arts and Libraries Regional Arts Association Regional Arts Board Regional Consultative Committee Regional Film Theatre Society for Education in Film and Television South West Arts The Other Cinema UK Film Council video access library video cassette recorder Video Engineering and Training Women’s Film, Television and Video Network Women Make Movies

12

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

I

t is widely recognised by those working in the film and video sector that distribution is the vital link which connects producers to audiences throughout the whole sector, from the commercial film industry to grassroots community initiatives. But to those outside the sector, that link is largely invisible, and has become all the more so in the age of ‘broadcast yourself ’ websites such as YouTube, Vimeo and Dailymotion. The term ‘distribution’ has often been thought to simply be the physical means by which a film is transported from its distributor to an exhibitor, and this is why video sharing websites, by removing the necessity for even that physical real-world delivery process, seem to give producers the potential to bypass traditional distributors and connect directly with their audiences. This invisibility has meant that the distribution link in the ‘supply chain’ has been critically neglected in cinema and moving image scholarship. In the history of film studies as a discipline, it has tended to be the ‘text’ and those prestigious roles most overtly associated with it – the director and the star – that have enjoyed most critical attention, with a growing interest in audiences, spectatorship and exhibition practices. Next to the scale of critical energy invested in those subjects, the distribution process and its crucial links with promotion and exhibition have been addressed by only a small (albeit growing) body of work. A few books have appeared which deal with some of the processes involved in delivering films to audiences, such as Tiiu Lukk’s Movie Marketing: Opening the Picture and Giving it Legs (1997), Jonathan Rosenbaum’s Movie Wars: How Hollywood and the Media Limit What Films We Can See (2000), Tom Shone’s Blockbuster: How Hollywood Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Summer (2004) and Peter Grant and Chris Wood’s Blockbusters and Trade Wars: Popular Culture in a Globalized World (2004). At the same time, a small number of books have appeared which examine the rise of the more distinctive independent distributors such as Angus Finney’s The Egos Have Landed: The Rise and Fall of Palace Pictures (1996) and Peter Biskind’s Down and Dirty Pictures: Miramax, Sundance & the Rise of Independent Film (2004). Over the years there have also been a handful of chapters in edited anthologies, including, for instance, Archie Tait’s ‘Distributing the product’ in Martyn Auty and Nick Roddick’s British Cinema Now (1985), Lee Baupré’s ‘How to Distribute a Film’ in Paul Kerr’s The Hollywood Film Industry (1986), Justin Wyatt’s chapter on Miramax and New Line in Steve Neale and Murray Smith’s Contemporary Hollywood Cinema (1998), a .

Reaching Audiences

chapter on theatrical distribution in Jason Squire’s revised The Movie Business Book (2006), and Philip Drake’s ‘Distribution and Marketing in Contemporary Hollywood’ in Janet Wasko and Paul McDonald’s The Contemporary Hollywood Film Industry (2008). While most of these publications deal with the mainstream industry, there has been some academic interest in other areas, such as a section in Charlotte Brunsdon’s Films for Women (1986) and a handful of articles in Screen on feminist distribution and exhibition initiatives,1 Margaret Dickinson’s inclusion of interviews with left-wing film distributors Contemporary Films and Plato Films in her edited collection Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (1999) together with a brief discussion of the implications of video distribution, a chapter on Film Co-ops by Jack Stevenson in Xavier Mendik and Steven Jay Schneider’s Underground USA: Filmmaking Beyond the Hollywood Canon (2002), Michael Zryd’s article on ‘The Academy and the Avant-Garde: A Relationship of Dependence and Resistance’ (2006), the publication of Scott MacDonald’s Cinema 16 (2002) and Canyon Cinema (2008), the appearance of books on the film festival circuit – in particular Marijke de Valck’s Film Festivals: From European Geopolitics to Global Cinephilia (2007) and Dina Iordanova’s Film Festival Yearbook series (2009, 2010) – and the University of Salford’s conference ‘Europe on Screen: Issues in the Future Distribution and Exhibition of European Cinema’ (June 2008). The fact that this area of scholarship continues to gather pace indicates that the influential role the distribution link plays is now more widely acknowledged. This is perhaps most crucially evidenced by the addition, since its original publication in 1979, of an introductory chapter on ‘Film Production, Distribution and Exhibition’ in David Bordwell and Kristin Thompson’s key text book, Film Art: An Introduction (2010), now in its ninth edition. Yet, despite this emerging body of literature, moving image distribution remains a relatively under-researched and little understood area. Through their acquisitions policies, their promotional and marketing practices, and their links with production and exhibition, together with their relationship with national arts policies, funders, and financiers, distributors play a crucial role in determining what we as audiences get to see and hence in helping shape our film culture. Thus the distribution link does far more than simply provide a physical delivery system. Maintaining the availability of collections and promoting that work are crucial to ensuring films reach their potential audiences. The distribution link has also played a key role in shaping our film history. As Ian Christie, Vice President of Europa Cinemas (and formerly of the British Film Institute’s Distribution Division), has stressed, our understanding of film history has been dictated by those films that have been distributed – unless films are seen, they do not get written about.2 David Sin of the UK’s Independent Cinema Office recently echoed this argument and went on to assert that distribution, with its links to programming, is ‘the most important aspect of the film chain’.3 Indeed, in assessing the needs of the film and video sector, together with the music and the press/publishing industries – collectively termed the ‘cultural industries’4 – the former Greater London Council accurately observed: ‘It is clear that control of distribution, of the route to the audience, is the key site of power in the cultural industries’ (our italics).5 In a practice and policy document written in 1984, they argued that, however, 14

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

‘the distribution of all forms of cultural product remains firmly in the control of a handful of companies which are geared to providing a narrow range of high turnover products’.6 Hence there has been a long tradition of filmmakers and other communities of interest setting up ‘alternative’ distribution organisations and exhibition venues in order to ensure the circulation of both a wider diversity of cultural products and ‘alternative’ sources of information. In the UK, for instance, the Federation of Workers’ Film Societies – founded in 1929 specifically to circumvent censorship regulations prohibiting public cinema screenings of ‘communist’ films – set up their own distributor, Atlas Films, to keep them supplied with appropriate films,7 while the London Film-Makers’ Co-op was set up in 1966 to expand and improve the availability of experimental film in the UK. Although the success and sustainability of such initiatives have been variable, Ken Worpole of the Cultural Industries Unit at the Greater London Enterprise Board nevertheless argued in 1985 that ‘distribution’ had to be considered as ‘the key element in any definition of radical cultural practice’.8 Over the years a significant part of the appeal of new media technologies – cable television, the VHS cassette, satellite television, DVD and the internet – has been the perception that they offer the potential to expand the diversity of our moving image culture and allow previously marginalised or under-represented voices to be heard by wider audiences. As early as 1981 the UK’s Independent Film-Makers’ Association stressed the need to take on board the ‘video-cassette revolution’.9 A decade later at an Arts Council of Great Britain seminar addressing how best to nurture innovative moving image work – arranged as part of a consultation process for the drafting of a National Arts and Media Strategy – facilitator John Wyver posed the question: ‘what place is there for other forms of distribution including cassettes, laserdiscs and related interactive systems?’10 More recently, both DVD and internet technology have been heralded as offering new opportunities, paving the way for new distribution models,11 and have given rise to international forums devoted to exploring their potential. In September 2005, the Canadian non-profit organisation Digimart held the first Global Digital Distribution Summit to consider the ‘new business opportunities created by the digital revolution’,12 followed just over two years later by the inauguration of the London based Power to the Pixel conferences to explore new ways of connecting with audiences. Whilst cable and VHS met with limited success in terms of expanding the diversity of material available to wider audiences, developments in internet technology now mean that anyone with a broadband connection can make available their own content or ‘collection’ – can take control of its distribution, of ‘the route to the audience’ – by uploading it to sites such as YouTube and Vimeo, which has resulted in a proliferation of so-called ‘usergenerated’ content. Although a significant proportion of this work could be described as falling within the ‘home movies’ genre,13 not necessarily aimed at wider audiences, video sharing sites have also facilitated the availability of a wider range of politically or socially engaged work, together with experimental work, that might have traditionally struggled to find a distributor. Much of the content on sites such as YouTube is also recycled TV programming, but other sites such as UbuWeb and the Internet Archive, together with the download/streaming facilities at DVD rental sites like LoveFilm, Netflix and MUBI, 15

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as well as internet TV channels like Amber Film’s SideTV and BitTorrent sites such as The Pirate Bay, also give access to a huge range of contemporary and historical feature films, documentaries, experimental work, shorts and other genres. Furthermore, traditional film archives (such as the BFI National Archive and the North West Film Archive), museums with film collections (such as the Imperial War Museum) and some specialist distributors (such as Lux, Criterion and Light Cone) are also making their collections at least partly available online14 – in some cases via YouTube – while new sites or initiatives are also in development or being trialled.15 In tandem with the development of internet technology, a growing number of niche DVD labels have also been launched in recent years – such as Cinema16, Second Run, Journal of Short Film and Red Avocado – making a range of non-mainstream feature length films, shorts and experimental work from around the world more readily available. As the Second Run website states, they distribute ‘niche-market films … which, crucially, have never before been available anywhere in the world on DVD’16 and, as with other niche DVD labels, these can be purchased through their own online shop. At the same time older niche video labels such as BFI Publishing and Peripheral Produce have found that titles released on DVD do far better business than their experience with VHS releases of comparable titles had led them to expect. As Erich Sargeant of BFI Publishing has observed: ‘[DVD] is something that people have just been mad for. I think people are much more prepared to take risks about buying a DVD than they were with VHS’.17 This widespread consumer take-up of DVD has also aided independent or DIY releases of niche films on DVD. Robert Greenwald’s documentary, Uncovered: The Whole Truth About the Iraq War (USA, 2003) was modestly projected to sell 2000 copies but, promoted through house parties, it sold around 120,000 copies. This easy access to an unprecedented abundance and variety of moving image work has without doubt transformed certain aspects of our moving image culture. Films that in the past were virtually impossible to see unless you lived within easy reach of a ‘progressive’ film society, or in a metropolitan centre like London or New York, and then only rarely – such as E.A. Dupont’s Piccadilly (UK, 1929) or Chris Marker’s La Jetée (France, 1962) – can now be accessed directly online or acquired on DVD at the click of a mouse. In a reversal of conventional practice, the unexpectedly high level of sales of Greenwald’s Uncovered also led a film distributor to give the film a theatrical release in the USA in the belief that the DVD sales had built up a cinema audience for the film18 – a phenomenon which was repeated with his later documentary Outfoxed: Rupert Murdoch’s War on Journalism (USA, 2004). Easy online access has also fuelled a so-called ‘remix’ culture, with an increasing number of people – media professionals and amateurs alike – appropriating and re-editing the abundant footage now so readily available (a practice actively supported by the Creative Commons copyright licence). ‘Remixing’ as a cultural practice is of course not new – there is a long history of found footage films – nor is it necessarily radical. However, it is possible to argue that in the digital era it has facilitated a more widespread participatory approach to moving image culture. While film and media theorists have long argued that viewers are far from passive 16

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

consumers, access to online moving image collections and archival material has allowed a greater degree of interaction between those viewers and moving image material. For instance, Rick Prelinger has given over 2000 films from the Prelinger Archives to the Internet Archive and he estimates there has been between 50 and 60 million downloads of the films and 20,000 derivative works produced as a result of their online availability.19 Unsurprisingly therefore, what we think of as an ‘archive’ is changing. Traditionally archives have been fairly invisible and more concerned with the preservation of their collections than with making them particularly accessible. Hence ‘archive’ has been a loaded term which effectively consigned work to a burial chamber and was quite distinct from a ‘distribution’ collection.20 The latter was work that was in active circulation, promoted, exhibited and available to be watched. But this distinction is starting to collapse. As soon as material is placed on the internet, it becomes available for (in theory) anyone to view – whether it has been placed there by an archive, a distributor, a DIY practitioner or anyone else. Indeed, inasmuch as an archive collects and preserves material, the internet can at one level be viewed as one massive archive which also conveniently makes its material widely available.21 While the role of the traditional distributor will not necessarily disappear, the expectations ‘audiences’ have in relation to moving image culture are certainly changing. Increasingly, people now expect material will and should be readily available online and accessible via a range of platforms.22 These developments have fuelled a fairly widespread perception that we are experiencing a moving image distribution revolution. As Greenwald has stated: ‘Frankly, I think what we’ve learned about distribution may be more important in the long run than the films themselves’.23 However, this ease of access and ready availability is not the case for all films. While some work is freely available online, other work has to be purchased (as is the case with LoveFilm, Criterion and MUBI). And despite widespread perceptions to the contrary,24 not all films are available online or even on DVD. Sometimes this is because of rights clearance issues, but even if they are online, there is also no guarantee they will remain so. In February 2007, for instance, Malcolm Le Grice’s Berlin Horse (1970) was available on YouTube, but by the following year it had been taken down.25 More recently, in October 2010, UbuWeb was hacked and its online collection of films was rendered temporarily unavailable. Similarly, many rights holders will often permit only limited online access – either in the form of taster clips or via restricted access (e.g. for educational use only, as with film footage on the Arts on Film Archive26). Thus, not all work online is equally accessible all the time, with some films still difficult to see in their entirety. Furthermore, while digitally produced films can easily be made available online or on DVD, those originated on video tape or celluloid have to be transferred. As Reframe, a new initiative to help filmmakers, distributors and others to sell their work using the internet, has asserted: Substantial amounts of film, video and media arts remain ‘stuck on the shelf ’, inaccessible to large segments of the public … [and] often it is because of the high cost to convert to digital formats that would allow for broad circulation.27 17

Reaching Audiences

Indeed, even with current initiatives (such as Screen Heritage UK), relatively little of all available moving image material has been digitised and is thus still not widely available.28 And often, time-consuming preservation work has to precede conversion to a digital format. For instance, much work originated on early video formats suffers from a phenomenon known as ‘sticky shed syndrome’ which can result in the recorded information being stripped from the tape when it is played. Tapes have to be baked at a low temperature before they can be safely played to enable transfer to a digital format.29 Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, ease of access does not mean that work will automatically be watched. As Pat Aufderheide so astutely observed as early as 2005, the very year that YouTube was launched: ‘This ability to watch digital video on command makes it ever easier to get a film to a user – but of course does nothing to solve the problem of making them want to watch it in the first place’ (our italics).30 A brief look through the YouTube site, for instance, quickly demonstrates that – despite the site’s promotion of lesser-known works, its hosting of British Film Institute and Imperial War Museum channels, and an occasional user-generated ‘hit’ – those videos with the highest viewing figures are usually recycled TV programming or content that already has widespread real world visibility (through, for instance, its topicality or a pre-existing public profile). For instance, in the wake of Barack Obama winning the US presidential election in November 2008, the Obama music video Yes We Can on YouTube had attracted over 15 million viewings.31 Similarly, with regard to DVD sales, the success of Greenwald’s Outfoxed and Uncovered documentaries in the USA was also crucially dependent on the strength of public interest in the subject matter. Moreover, unlike many filmmakers, Greenwald had access to an appropriate and pre-existing network – via the progressive political action group Moveon.org who arranged the house parties – through which to promote the films. Martin Lucas and Martha Wallner have made similar observations about the importance of networking over technological developments. In Tony Dowmunt’s edited anthology, Channels of Resistance, they give an account of their Gulf Crisis TV Project which aimed to communicate widespread opposition in the USA to the 1991 Gulf War via a series of TV programmes.32 As they explain, although affordable technology facilitated the project, it was their ability to network with over 300 public access stations that ensured the project’s success.33 But while DIY filmmakers can now readily exploit social networking sites such as Facebook and MySpace as a means of ‘marketing’ their work to others, it doesn’t necessarily mean the work will be watched. Thus, despite the so-called ‘digital revolution’, many of the issues which determine what we as audiences end up getting to see or choosing to watch – the diversity of moving image material that we experience – remain the same. Although digital technology has made it far easier to make work available, it has not resulted in all work being equally available or accessible. Indeed, as Holly Aylett, has argued, diversity of expression in the moving image sector will still need to be fought for.34 While ‘alternative’ voices can now utilise the internet, for instance, there is no guarantee they will be heard, and accessed out of context there is no guarantee they will be understood.35 Through her involvement with the UK Coalition for Cultural Diversity, Aylett has been tracking the UNESCO Convention for the 18

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

Protection and Promotion of Diversity of Expression. The Convention is an international instrument which came on to the statute books in March 2007 and recognised that culture is not a commodity and that national governments should have a right to determine their own cultural policy. Although there is an unavoidable tension between dealing with national governments offline and a global community online, Aylett has likened the Convention to a room which we all have to agree to enter in order to ensure that a pluralistic moving image culture will continue to exist.36 In view of the potential offered by digital technology, it is possible to argue that it is now more important than ever that we understand the processes that connect moving image work to its audiences. If we are to more fully understand why we have the film culture we do – both historical and contemporary – we need to better understand the factors that shape and influence the distribution process whereby some films are more widely seen while others are not. This is one of the main aims of this book. In the following chapters we examine particular aspects of, and highlight particular issues raised by, the distribution activities – together with their related promotional and exhibition practices – undertaken by the following nine UK organisations: the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (experimental film, founded 1966), The Other Cinema (independent feature films and political documentaries, founded 1969–70), London Electronic Arts (video art, founded 1976 as London Video Arts, subsequently changing its name to London Video Access before becoming London Electronic Arts), Cinema of Women (feature films by women and women’s movement documentaries, founded 1979), Circles (feature films, shorts and experimental films and videos by women, founded 1980), Film and Video Umbrella (artists’ film and video, set up in 1983),37 Albany Video Distribution (workshop, artists’ and independently produced documentaries and shorts, set up in 1985), Cinenova (launched 1991 as a successor to Circles) and the Lux (founded 1999 from a merger of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op and London Electronic Arts, and relaunched 2002). It is only by understanding how the distribution link functions – helping determine what we as audiences can get to see – that we can more fully understand the range of factors that can limit or expand the diversity of our moving image culture. There are a number of reasons for the very specific focus on the above organisations. As is evident, we are writing from a UK perspective, and in the UK, as Sylvia Harvey explains, ‘[t]he origins of the modern independent film movement can be traced to the founding in 1966 of the London Film-Makers’ Co-operative’.38 The Co-op, as it became known, opened up an important cultural space where interested parties could develop a critique of the mainstream film industry. Starting with a distribution service, it gradually expanded to include a production workshop, an exhibition space and eventually its own magazine, Undercut. In the following years it was joined by a number of radical film production collectives which emerged from the political context created by the New Left in post-war Britain and the growing instances in the UK and elsewhere of ‘challenges to established order and authority’, such as the student uprisings in France in May 1968, the women’s movement, the birth of 19

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black political activism, and the beginnings of a lesbian and gay rights movement.39 Harvey includes in this group of collectives Cinema Action (founded 1968, making films for the labour movement on a range of topics), Amber Films (founded 1968, films documenting the lives of working people in the North East of England), Liberation Films (founded 1970, films on community action), the Berwick Street Collective (founded 1972, films about Ireland and the unionisation campaign of women night cleaners), the London Women’s Film Group (founded 1972, films about women’s historical and contemporary campaigning activity) and the Newsreel Collective (founded 1974, films about various socio-political issues).40 Due to the way in which arts funding policies developed in the UK at both regional and national levels, the work of such groups enjoyed a relatively high level of state support during the latter half of the 1970s and throughout the 1980s. This support came from a range of funders including: national bodies with a remit to support cultural activity, particularly the Arts Council of Great Britain and the British Film Institute (BFI), together with their regional counterparts in the form of regional arts associations; local Government, particularly the Greater London Council, its investment wing – the Greater London Enterprise Board mentioned above – and the Metropolitan County Councils; and television, primarily Channel 4 (launched in 1982) with its initial remit to support experimental and innovative work. While the Co-op and most of the early production collectives were based in London, this network of public funding also helped spawn a large number of film and video workshops across the UK which functioned to support both artists’ and political/ community activist film and video work.41 It was in this context that London Video Arts was set up, initially – like the Co-op – as a distribution service, but expanding fairly quickly to collaborate with established exhibition spaces and set up its own production facilities. Conversely, Albany Video had been set up in the early 1970s as a grassroots community video project but quickly began informally distributing its own and others’ videos. As they accessed the growing network of public funding, however, they were able – among other things – to launch a formalised distribution service. Thus, this ‘movement’ experienced a period of intensive activity during the 1970s and 1980s and, although increasingly grant-aided, evolved into what became termed an ‘independent film and video sector’. Indeed, such was the level of activity that as early as 1974 it formed its own umbrella organisation – the above mentioned Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA) – to represent and further the disparate interests encompassed within the sector. As a result of this activity there was a substantial supply of ‘alternative’ moving image product that needed to find its way to audiences, and a number of dedicated distribution initiatives and groups – including The Other Cinema, Cinema of Women and Circles – also arose to help meet this need. Indeed, such was the desire to ensure that ‘alterative’ work found its way to audiences that the Arts Council also set up its own initiative, the Film and Video Umbrella. Thus, as part of that sector, the organisations that form the focus of this book offer a very rich source of material for study. More importantly though, the organisations discussed in this book were committed to distributing as widely as possible work that has not interested conventional film distributors 20

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

because the low level of financial return usually makes it economically unviable and certainly commercially uncompetitive – work that has been broadly characterised as the aesthetic and political avant-garde.42 Indeed, as indicated above, their distribution operations were set up specifically to promote and build audiences for that kind of work. Other groups and workshops that formed part of the growing independent film and video sector also undertook distribution activities – such as the above mentioned Liberation Films, Amber Films and the London Women’s Film Group, as well as Leeds Animation Workshop (founded 1976, animated films on social issues) and Sankofa Film and Video (founded 1983, films on the Black experience of British culture) – but their focus tended to either be exclusively on their own productions, very narrow or shift over time to other concerns. In fact a number of film and video workshops undertook the distribution of their own work as a conscious strategy to connect directly with their audiences. The organisations we have studied, however, undertook over sustained periods of time to distribute work made by a wide range of film and video makers, and helped establish national – and often international – profiles for that work. As a result they have not only been a significant source of ‘alternative’ information, viewpoints and visions, but have also been highly influential as distributors, doing much to ensure that audiences have been able to enjoy a wider range of moving image material. As former Cinenova worker Helen de Witt, in commenting on how she saw their role, has observed: ‘[It’s] basically giving audiences … a choice about what they can see, it’s sort of making an intervention into the mainstream and saying there are other things that you can see’.43 Thus it is possible to argue that understanding how this particular sector has functioned is crucially important if we wish to nurture a more diverse moving image culture. However, while the growing literature cited above has explored and documented the workings of the mainstream commercial industry and has started to highlight particular instances of ‘alternative’ practice, the distribution practices of the UK’s ‘independent sector’ have not to date been the subject of an in-depth study. Although other independent or ‘alternative’ distributors were operating in the UK during this period – such as Contemporary Films, Plato Films, Concord Film Council (now Concord Media), Harris Films and the British Film Institute’s own distribution wing – the organisations that form the focus of this book are also of particular interest because they were all set up by or benefited from the active involvement of the film and video makers themselves.44 Artist-run film and video organisations have always been particularly active and inventive with regard to establishing their own distribution and related exhibition initiatives in order to deliver work to audiences. This has largely been a matter of necessity in that the visibility of the work depended upon it, but they have usually had access to relatively minimal resources to support such activities and have frequently had to adapt to rapidly changing cultural, political, and technological conditions. Artists and independent filmmakers have also often been among the first to start experimenting with new emerging moving image technologies and to explore their potential. In this context it is difficult not to recall Nam June Paik’s much-cited declaration used to announce his first video tape screenings in New York in 1965: ‘Television has been attacking us all our lives, now we 21

Reaching Audiences

can attack it back’.45 More recently, however, artists and independent filmmakers have been quick to start exploiting the DIY distribution possibilities offered by digital technologies.46 This willingness to experiment and be pro-active has meant that artists’ and independent film and video organisations have also been keen to develop new markets and audiences for their work, often exploring not only the traditional art market or opportunities for theatrical releases, but also the educational sector, the community sector, the film festival circuit, the video sell-through market and more recently of course the internet. Thus, an examination of these kinds of organisations can tell us a great deal about what strategies for reaching audiences are most successful. Moreover, in some cases the experience gained in the organisations discussed in this book has been carried into the more mainstream film and broadcast sectors, at both national and international levels. Stephen Woolley, the international film producer, for instance, worked for The Other Cinema in the late 1970s before co-founding Palace Pictures and producing such films as Michael Caton-Jones’ Scandal (1989), as well as Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game (1992), Interview with a Vampire (1995) and Michael Collins (1996). Jane Root, former BBC2 Controller and Head of Discovery Channel, and Caroline Spry, a former Channel 4 commissioning editor, both worked for Cinema of Women in the early 1980s, playing a key role in acquiring feminist feature films for theatrical release. Likewise, after helping set up The Other Cinema in 1969, Peter Sainsbury moved on to become Head of the BFI Production Board in the mid-1970s where he supported the funding of Co-op filmmakers alongside producing work by directors such as Peter Greenaway and Derek Jarman.47 Others have taken such experience into subsequent roles at funding agencies. After working at the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, David Curtis went on to become Film and Video Officer at the Arts Council of Great Britain, while Felicity Sparrow later became Head of Film, Video and Broadcasting at Greater London Arts. In a similar vein Paul Marris moved on to become Film and Video Officer at the Greater London Council after a spell working for The Other Cinema, while Nigel Algar began working at the BFI after serving on The Other Cinema’s Council of Management. And still others – such as Jeremy Welsh (London Video Access, Film and Video Umbrella), Michael O’Pray (London Film-Makers’ Co-op, Film and Video Umbrella) and this book’s co-author Julia Knight (Albany Video Distribution, Cinenova) – have moved into higher education, passing on experience to subsequent generations of moving image artists, practitioners and researchers. Thus, it is possible to argue that the influential role played by the distributors studied for this book has been particularly far reaching. The other main aim of this book is to at least partially (in both senses of the word) document certain aspects of the histories of those organisations. Over the years, a number of books, chapters and articles have been published addressing various aspects and interests of the moving image sector in which they operated. Some publications have, for instance, addressed the early activist practices of the film and video workshops, the socio-political concerns of the independent sector and latterly the role of television – such as Graham Wade’s Street Video published in 1980; Rod Stoneman and Hilary Thompson’s BFI Production Catalogue 22

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

for 1979–80, The Social Function of Cinema, published the following year; Sylvia Harvey’s chapter ‘The “Other Cinema” in Britain’ in Charles Barr’s anthology All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema, published in 1986; Margaret Dickinson’s aforementioned Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 published in 1999; and Alan Fountain’s chapter ‘Alternative Film, Video and Television 1965–2005’ in Kate Coyer, Tony Dowmunt and Fountain’s The Alternative Media Handbook published in 2007. Others have drawn attention to and informed the need for ‘alternative’ media by analysing the output of the mass media. Exemplary in this field was the groundbreaking work of the Glasgow University Media Group. Formed in 1974, the group pioneered the study of TV journalism, publishing their first work, Bad News, in 1976, followed by More Bad News in 1980 and Really Bad News in 1982. These volumes analysed television news as a cultural artefact, examining the ways in which it is highly constructed and its ‘socially manufactured messages … carry many of the culturally dominant assumptions of our society’,48 as well as analysing the ways in which audiences receive and interpret those messages. And in recent years a number of key books have emerged which address experimental moving image work – such as Michael O’Pray’s The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926 to 1995 and Julia Knight’s Diverse Practices: A Critical Reader on British Video Art, published as companion volumes in 1996; A.L. Rees’ A History of Experimental Film and Video published in 1998; Malcolm Le Grice’s Experimental Cinema in the Digital Age published in 2001; Nicky Hamlyn’s Film Art Phenomena and Nina Danino and Michael Maziere’s The Undercut Reader, both published in 2003; Catherine Elwes’ Video Art, A Guided Tour published in 2005; Chris Meigh-Andrews’ A History of Video Art: The Development of Form and Function and Jackie Hatfield’s edited anthology Experimental Film and Video, both published in 2006; and David Curtis’ A History of Artists’ Film and Video in Britain and Duncan Reekie’s Subversion: The Definitive History of Underground Cinema both published in 2007. Yet within this body of literature, the organisations that form the focus of this book have at best been only referenced or discussed very briefly. For the most part, the above publications have tended to concentrate more on the film and video work produced, the debates generated by and around that work, the production conditions and practices, and the socio-political context in which the work was made, rather than address the organisations themselves.49 Moreover, many of the organisations which have nurtured and promoted independent/ artists’ film and video never saw it as a priority to properly archive their own records – persistent under-resourcing meant they often struggled simply to keep on top of the dayto-day running of the organisations. And over the years, as they have moved premises, been forced to close down or evolved into different organisations, many of the records that did exist have been thrown out, lost or become dispersed. Indeed, by the end of the 1980s the political climate and public funding landscape in the UK had changed quite dramatically – especially with the abolition of the Greater London Council and the Metropolitan County Councils, combined with diminishing funding from Channel 4 – transforming the independent sector and dissipating much of its former energy, and many of its film and video organisations did not survive the transition. Of the organisations discussed in this 23

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book, only three are still in existence – the Film and Video Umbrella, Cinenova and the Lux. Furthermore, many of the founding members of those organisations and those involved in their early development are now reaching retirement age or – sadly in a handful of cases – have already died.50 As the moving image landscape continues to change, there is a real risk that much of this history could be lost. To fulfil these dual aims we have adopted historical research methods combined with a multiple-case study approach. According to Robert Yin, both these approaches are appropriate when endeavouring to answer ‘how’ and ‘why’ questions, when the events studied are beyond the control of the researcher, and when the issues studied require tracing over time.51 The main questions that directed our research were how effective were the distributors selected for study in delivering ‘alternative’ film and video work to audiences, and why have some of them been able to survive while others have not? Answering those questions necessitated an examination over time of their past activities and the context in which they operated. According to Yin, histories are the preferred strategy when dealing with a ‘dead past’52 – that is, when no participants are still living and the researcher must rely solely on surviving documents and/or artefacts, together with secondary sources – but overlap with a case study approach when the focus is on ‘contemporary’ events in that the researcher can also undertake direct observation and interviews with people who are, or were, involved in the events. Furthermore, a case study approach is particularly appropriate since it is, as Ivar Erdal has expressed it, ‘a way of generating knowledge about a particular case, and thereby adding to the accumulated knowledge about the field’ (our italics).53 The majority of the research that informs this book was carried out between 2002 and 2005 with the assistance of Geoffrey Nowell-Smith via two research projects funded by the Arts and Humanities Research Council,54 and it is this funding that has enabled our multiple-case study approach. To ensure the robustness of our findings, we consulted multiple sources of evidence across all nine organisations studied. In the course of the two funded projects, we trawled through, collated and evaluated findings from thousands of documents produced by or for the distributors themselves, their funders, related organisations such as the above mentioned Independent Film-Makers’ Association, independent consultants, Government departments and committees, as well as by individual film and video makers. These included committee meeting minutes, policy documents, promotional material, development prospectuses, reports, funding applications, press cuttings, budgets, annual accounts, correspondence, royalty statements and audience feedback sheets. These documents had to be tracked down via a number of different sources – including the surviving distribution organisations; funders’ archives (Arts Council, British Film Institute, Film London); the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection; the Independent Film-Makers’ Association archive; individual artists, curators, distribution workers and researchers; and Companies House. Some documents have only survived due to individuals keeping their own paperwork long after they had left or ceased involvement with an organisation or particular event. Sources for all documents referenced in the book are given in the endnotes, while

24

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

all published works informing the research, together with URLs of all online distribution initiatives cited, are listed in the bibliography. Since several of the organisations discussed in this book no longer exist, the possibility of direct observation was limited. However, all the researchers have direct experience of the field studied. As noted above, before turning academic Knight worked for Albany Video Distribution and throughout most of the 1990s served on the management committee of Cinenova; Nowell-Smith spent a number of years working for one of the key funders, the British Film Institute;55 while Thomas is active in the contemporary ‘alternative’ moving image sector as a member of the Exploding Cinema screening collective56 and as an experimental/independent media programmer and polemicist. But since the histories examined are relatively recent, we were able to conduct approximately 70 research interviews with people who were involved directly or indirectly, including several workers and management committee members from each of the nine organisations studied, a range of key personnel from their various funders, a number of curators and programmers who worked with them, multiple film and video makers distributed by them, as well as a number of TV commissioning editors and producers. Although these interviews were an important source of historical information, they were also used to help identify important issues, events and connections not readily apparent from the documentary evidence and to check the validity of our analyses. A full list of interviewees, archives and all other sources consulted can be found in the Appendix. In planning the research we envisaged firstly examining the documentation of each organisation, followed up by research interviews with the relevant participants. However, this approach quickly had to be refined for a number of reasons. To start with, the order in which we could examine the documents was in reality dictated by their varying degrees of availability and accessibility. The records of the Arts Council and the British Film Institute are housed off-site and gaining access required going through formal request procedures. Access to the records held by organisations like Film London, the Lux and Cinenova was arranged informally but was often intermittent since their offices were small with no dedicated study space and only possible when it didn’t conflict with their own activities. And still other (personal) collections of material only emerged as we conducted our research interviews. Hence access to material took longer to achieve in some cases than in others and was not completely within our control. Also, several of our research interviewees worked for more than one of the distributors studied – Felicity Sparrow, for instance, worked at the London Film-Makers’ Co-op in the late 1970s before moving on to set up Circles; Jeremy Welsh worked at London Video Access in the 1980s before joining the Film and Video Umbrella; Sarah Turner was involved with Circles in the 1980s and the Co-op in the 1990s; Michael Maziere was involved with the Co-op before taking up a post at London Video Access (LVA) in the late 1980s; and Kate Norrish worked with Maziere at LVA before joining Cinenova in the early 1990s. Thus it was impossible to undertake a discrete examination of one organisation before moving on to the next, something which was compounded in some cases by their overlapping interests. Of necessity, we had to evolve a more organic 25

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approach to the research, developing a provisional analysis after each document trawl and then revisiting those analyses and revising them on a regular basis throughout the project as we were able to access new sources of evidence and conduct further research interviews. In order to address our research questions, we identified five possible factors that might have impacted on the distributors’ effectiveness and long-term sustainability: their degree of economic stability, the extent of their promotional activities, the ideologies informing their practices, their administrative organisation and capabilities, and technological developments. An examination of these factors directed our investigation of each organisation studied and underpins six of this book’s seven chapters, which present case studies of one or more of the distributors studied. The time period covered in each chapter has been selected because – due to availability of documentation and/or the issues arising – it is a period in that organisation’s history that allows us to clearly illustrate the particular factor(s) under discussion. These six chapters are also organised in broadly chronological order, since this means that as the book progresses, we are increasingly able to draw on related evidence from organisations discussed in previous chapters to demonstrate that the ways in which the above factors impacted were common across the sector studied and not peculiar to a particular organisation. Chapter 1 undertakes a case study of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op from 1966 through to the early 1980s to examine how such organisations develop and make the transition from their volunteerist origins to funded expansion. It explores the Co-op’s DIY filmmakeractivist ethos, its sustained quest for public funding, and the impact that the entry of grant aid into their field of activities had on the organisation’s ability to pursue its distribution operation. Chapters 2, 3 and 4 all address the need for distributors to reach audiences – both as their raison d’être and as essential to their survival – but each chapter explores a different market and its particular challenges. Through a case study of The Other Cinema in the 1970s and Cinema of Women in the 1980s, Chapter 2 looks at their targeting of the theatrical exhibition and education markets and explores the challenges both distributors faced in terms of building audiences for the work they were distributing. In Chapter 3, through a case study of London Video Arts (LVA) from 1976 to the mid-1990s and touching on Albany Video Distribution, we explore the targeting of wider markets – especially the opening up of a home market – with the coming of video technology and Channel 4. The chapter recalls the enormous potential these developments seemed to offer and examines the realisation of their particular limitations within the space of a few years. Chapter 4 examines the need for extensive promotional activity to build audiences for non-mainstream work and, through case studies of primarily Circles and the Film and Video Umbrella during the 1980s through to the mid-1990s, explores in particular the development of touring packages for a semi-theatrical regional market. The chapter looks at the Umbrella’s perceived success in this field and its impact on the Co-op and LVA, with whom it was directly competing as a supplier of artists’ film and video work and recipient of promotional subsidy. All the distribution organisations studied for this book accessed public funding at some point during their existence, and their frequent – and at times substantial – grant26

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

aid dependence is an inescapable context for much of distribution activity discussed. Thus in Chapters 5 and 6 we return to the issue of funding. While Chapter 1 looked at the entry of public funding into the sector, Chapter 5 examines the impact of its withdrawal. Through a case study of Cinenova in the 1990s, the chapter examines the difficulties that such organisations faced when confronted with substantial cuts to their revenue funding at the beginning of the decade, the impossibility of increasing earned income sufficiently to make the transition to self-sufficiency, and the resulting impact on their ability to operate effectively. In Chapter 6 we use a case study of the Lux, including the early searches for premises and the Hoxton Square tenancy, and also look back to the cultural heyday of the Greater London Council in the 1980s to explore the way funders not only play a key role in shaping the activity they support, but are in turn operating within the dictates of wider national arts funding policies. While in many cases public funding enables areas of cultural activity to flourish in a way that would otherwise have not been possible, that activity and how it develops has to also be understood as a product of a much wider political context. One of the things that immediately became evident when conducting this research was that much of the current discussion around digital distribution directly reiterates the interests and aims of the organisations that form the focus of this book – a concern with finding alternative means of reaching audiences, expanding audiences for non-mainstream work, and maximising the potential offered by new media technologies – and is frequently reporting the development of very similar practices or strategies. Indeed, the similarities are striking and it is alarming just how much of this history has already been forgotten. If it is not retrieved and documented, we run the risk of significantly limiting our understanding of our film culture. Just as importantly, it also means new generations of moving image practitioners and distributors would remain unaware of historical precedents for distribution strategies and models that are now being heralded as new and would therefore be unable to benefit from lessons learnt in the past. Thus in our seventh and final chapter, we draw together what can be learnt from our case studies, and the complex history that emerges, by advancing a number of analytic generalisations. These seek to improve our understanding of how the distribution process functions and helps shape our film culture and history – both with regard to the specific sector studied and to moving image distribution more generally. But we also use the historical research to help us better understand contemporary developments in the digital era and the ways in which digital distribution is impacting on the diversity of our moving image culture. However, it is necessary to recognise that, as noted above, the history documented and discussed in this book is partial. As researchers, what we have chosen to focus on has been shaped by our own interests and concerns, as outlined in the first half of this Introduction. And certainly in the cases of organisations like the London Film-Makers’ Co-op and London Electronic Arts this has enabled only a very partial discussion of their activities – which also included production and training. Similarly, our consideration of the gallery market has also been limited and addressed only where it forms part of a wider distribution strategy. Our particular interests have also in part stemmed from our own involvement, also noted above, 27

Reaching Audiences

in the sector studied and related activities. It is this involvement that has informed our argument that the distribution link in the ‘supply chain’ needs to be better understood. And again as already noted, we have necessarily focused on particular eras of our organisations’ histories in order to highlight certain issues – the case studies are not intended to offer a complete historical overview of each organisation’s existence. Moreover, although we have been able to locate a surprisingly large number of documents, they too necessarily offer only a partial view of the history. Firstly, we have not been able to recover documents spanning the entire existence of all the organisations – there are gaps in the physical evidence. And secondly, those that we have been able to access have frequently been written for specific purposes (e.g. annual activity reports to revenue funders) and do not document the full or even necessarily an entirely accurate picture. Indeed, documents addressing the same events but originating from different sources on occasions tell largely separate stories. Conducting a large number of research interviews was in part a strategy to try and counter that double partiality – fill in the gaps, flesh out the wider picture. However, as others have discovered before us, the act of remembering and the resulting oral testimony is itself highly partial, can differ considerably from one individual to another, and effectively rewrites the past:57 not only do people genuinely forget certain things, they also misremember or remember selectively, and can have their own agendas that determine how they narrativise the past. Thus, as we have observed elsewhere, these documents and memories are not the past. At best they can be described as ‘historical traces’, and what follows is only one of the accounts that could be drawn from them.58 While we have endeavoured to collate significant findings across a large number of documents, it has also been evident that other researchers with other interests may have produced different but equally important findings. Given the difficulty of accessing the surviving and highly dispersed records, we have therefore also undertaken a related online database project in collaboration with the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection – the Film and Video Distribution Database (at http:// fv-distribution-database.ac.uk), also AHRC funded59 – in order to make available a selection of those documents to other researchers. However, it is also a means of making the evidence we have drawn upon more readily accessible and the basis for our analysis more transparent. Thus, where the primary material referenced in the book is available on the Film and Video Distribution Database (FVDD) at the time of writing we have provided the URLs in the relevant endnotes. Undertaking such a digitisation project has also produced its own methodological issues, but the more primary research material that is available to researchers and the more literature produced as a result can only assist with the process of ‘adding to the accumulated knowledge about the field’. Partly for this reason, the Film and Video Distribution Database has been conceived as an ongoing project, and we would welcome any offers of new material for inclusion and proposals for PhD research using the database. Any discussion of the activity undertaken in the UK’s independent film and video sector is also particularly challenging due to the range of practices encompassed within it, and this presents particular problems for terminology. Indeed, the books that have addressed 28

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

any part of this sector usually begin with definitions or a discussion of the terms employed – as do, for instance, Michael O’Pray in The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926–1995 (1996) and Margaret Dickinson in Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (1999) – precisely for this reason. Filmmaking practices have, however, received far more critical attention and are far more visible than distribution practices. Hence, for us, it was crucial to commence with a discussion that drew attention to the central role that distribution plays in our moving image culture. But the issue of terminology is equally important, and one that came to haunt us when trying to devise a title for this book. As indicated above, central to a distributor’s raison d’être is the need and ability to ‘deliver’ moving image work to audiences. Hence the first part of this book’s title, Reaching Audiences, was a relatively easy and straightforward choice. But characterising the nature of the distribution activity we are examining was far more challenging. In this Introduction we have used a combination of terms, including independent, artists, alternative, radical, political, community, grassroots, activist, avant-garde and non-mainstream to characterise the distributors, the work of the film and video makers, and the wider sector within which both were located. These terms are not directly interchangeable and no single one captures the full range of work promoted by the distributors studied. Rather they all flag up different interests encompassed by the sector, and hence of necessity we continue to use them as and where appropriate throughout the book. Nevertheless, all the terms try to embody what Margaret Dickinson identifies as ‘the quality of being outside and different’.60 That is, broadly speaking, outside of and different to the mainstream film and broadcast industries – those organisations and corporations which control the major avenues of moving image production, distribution and exhibition. As Dickinson observes, the term ‘independent’ has probably been most widely used to signal this quality of ‘being outside and different’.61 In the late 1960s and 1970s it was the term used by the organisations and filmmakers themselves precisely to flag up the fact that they were operating outside of existing institutions and that they were trying to develop practices that differed from established industry ones. Furthermore, as Laura Mulvey has noted, when the Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA) was set up in 1974, the use of the term was deliberate – intended to act as a wide umbrella which could allow for the inclusion of different kinds of filmmakers.62 Yet the term was quickly perceived to be both too narrow and too vague. As organisations and filmmakers began to access public funding, and as the IFA began working with Channel 4 and the film and TV workers’ trade union, the ACTT, as well as with the British Film Institute, the term ‘independent’ became problematic and increasingly the subject of discussion, theorisation and redefinition. Other terms, such as radical, political, oppositional and community have mostly been used to designate those practices or activities associated with socialist politics and ideals and aimed at providing a voice for the socially, culturally and politically marginalised, underrepresented or excluded. Indeed, as Alan Fountain has noted, what linked much – but by no means all – of the activity informing the independent sector was ‘a renewed interest in and rereading of Marxist theory and practice’.63 These more politically imbued terms 29

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cannot of course adequately delineate the experimental film and video work distributed through organisations such as the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, London Electronic Arts and the Lux. While the London Film-Makers’ Co-op had in its early years used the term ‘non-commercial’, the term ‘artists’ film and video’ has since gained currency as it flags up the art college background and aesthetic or conceptual interests of many film and video makers themselves. That said, however, their organisations – as Malcolm Le Grice has noted with regard to the London Film-Makers’ Co-op – were not necessarily devoid of social and political objectives.64 And of course, some overtly political work produced within the sector undertook rigorous investigation of or drew attention to precisely the politics of form. The use of the term ‘activist’ is appealing – and at one level highly appropriate – since it captures the DIY ethos of much of the activity that took place in the independent film and video sector and, importantly, of the film and video makers’ involvement in the distributors discussed in the following chapters. However, even this term can be problematic, as both Mitzi Waltz and Tony Dowmunt have pointed out.65 While ‘activism’ implies becoming actively involved in producing social change, that change need not be aligned with socialist politics. An additional complicating factor with regard to the distributors studied here is that, with the changes that occurred in the UK arts funding landscape towards the end of the 1980s, the context within which they were operating underwent significant change. It is no simple coincidence that Margaret Dickinson ends her overview of oppositional film in Britain, Rogue Reels, in 1990. Revenue funding for many of the organisations that made up the independent film and video sector diminished dramatically at that time and gave rise to a whole new vocabulary. While the organisations that survived the changes were still not motivated by financial profit, all the distributors studied were nevertheless encouraged as they entered the 1990s to find ways of increasing their ‘earned income’, to actively ‘market’ their ‘services’ and become more ‘self-sustaining’. Although the surviving distributors remained committed to finding audiences for non-mainstream material, a cooperative ethos of working together under one umbrella in a broadly shared endeavour was increasingly replaced by one of ‘competition’ – both for markets and available funding. As the ‘new reality’ hit home and groups struggled to adjust, it also became increasingly apparent that the growth in public funding available during the 1970s and 1980s had to some extent built up an unrealistic ‘welfarist’ expectation within the independent sector of the right to public support. Consequently, as Margaret Dickinson has also demonstrated, finding a suitable term is difficult,66 but with regard to the title of this book we have settled on ‘alternative’. This is still not ideal since, like ‘oppositional’, it suggests a simple binary relationship with the mainstream and can also imply that the two are entirely separate. But of all the possible terms it would seem to have the most potential to cover our area of research. In contrast to the binary model it seems to propose, Chris Atton has convincingly argued that there is in fact a complexity of relations between the mainstream and alternative practices.67 Tony Dowmunt has argued that Atton’s approach ‘enables us to see the field as having distinctly movable internal boundaries, boundaries which are the products of specific societies at 30

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

specific times’.68 Thus, a moving image practice which in one era or context could be viewed as ‘alternative’, might in another be regarded as ‘mainstream’. According to Cate Elwes, this is what happened to video art – in its early years during the 1970s and early 1980s it was screened ‘to small groups of aficionados in obscure, “alternative” spaces’, but by the 1990s had shifted ‘into the mainstream of the museum and gallery system’.69 This complexity allows us to delineate the organisations we have studied as distributing and promoting alternative moving image, located within and a product of a particular historical period in the UK, while also identifying important contextual changes which either transformed them into different organisations or brought about their demise. However, our analyses in the following chapters also stem in part from the fact that we are, as noted above, writing from an involved perspective, and hence one that values the work undertaken by the distributors studied. Crucially they are informed – as are the conclusions we draw in our final chapter – by a belief in the importance on the one hand of promoting a pluralistic moving image culture, while on the other ensuring that viewers, consumers and users have access to and – importantly – engage with as wide a variety of moving image product as possible. Notes   1. See for instance, Jane Root, ‘Distributing “A Question of Silence”’, Screen, 26(6), November 1985: 58–64; Caroline Merz and Pratibha Parmar, ‘Distribution Matters – Circles’ and Adriane Jenik, ‘Distribution Matters – “What Does She Want?”’, Screen, 28(4), Autumn 1987: 66–72; and Julia Knight, ‘Cinenova: A Sign of the Times’, Screen, 33(2) Summer 1992: 184–89. Our own research has now recently added to this number – see our Bibliography.   2. Christie made this observation when speaking at the ‘Shoot Shoot Shoot’ seminar, held at the Tate Modern, London, 4 May 2002, but made similar observations on several occasions when he was working at the British Film Institute during the 1980s. See for instance, Christie, ‘BFI Involvement in Distribution’, 10 April 1981: 4. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987).   3. David Sin, ‘The Independent Cinema Office and the distribution of European cinema’ at Europe on Screen: Issues in the Future Distribution and Exhibition of European Cinema conference, University of Salford, 11–12 June 2008.   4. Greater London Council, ‘Report to Industry and Employment, Finance and General Purposes and Arts and Recreation Committees: Funding for Cultural Industries Project’, October 1984: 2. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, Box 64, red binder).   5. Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy: The Cultural Industries (n.d), p. 19.   6. Greater London Council, 1984, op. cit.  7.  Sylvia Harvey, ‘The “Other Cinema” in Britain: Unfinished Business in Oppositional and Independent Film, 1929–84’ in Charles Barr (ed.) All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema (London: BFI, 1986), p. 232.  8. Ken Worpole, ‘Radical distribution: the GLEB (Greater London Enterprise Board) Cultural Industries Strategy’, Channel 4 Symposium, ICA, 21.9.85: 2. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, Box 64, red binder). 31

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  9. Paul Marris ‘National Executive Yearly Report: Birmingham 1981’, Independent Film-Makers’ Association: 6. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, Box 5). 10. John Wyver, ‘A New Idea for Innovation?’ discussion paper for consultation seminar for the National Arts and Media Strategy, arranged by the Arts Council, 26 November 1991. Source: FVU (Arts Council 1992–93, Other Correspondence). 11.  See for instance, Nigel Culkin and Keith Randle, ‘Digital Cinema: Opportunities and Challenges’ Convergence 9(4) Winter 2003: 79–98; Jess Search and Melissa McCarthy (eds), Get Your Documentary Funded and Distributed (London: Shooting People, 2005); Danny Schechter in ‘The Political Documentary in America Today: Commentary by Distributors, Exhibitors, Filmmakers and Scholars’, Cineaste, Summer 2005: 31–32; Liz Rosenthal, ‘Evolving, digital perspectives’, paper presented at Local Film Culture, Global Exchange conference, London, 30 November 2005; Karl Mechem, ‘New Distribution Models: The Journal of Short Film’, 12 December 2005, at http://www.mediarights.org/news/2005/12/12/new_distribution_models_ the_journal_of_short_film.php (accessed 21 March 2006); Chris Anderson, The Long Tail: How Endless Choice is Creating Unlimited Demand (London: Random House, 2006); and Alan Fountain, ‘Alternative film, video and television 1965–2005’ in Kate Coyer, Tony Dowmunt and Alan Fountain (eds), The Alternative Media Handbook (London & New York: Routledge, 2007), pp. 29–46. 12. Digimart: The International Digital Cinema Market (2005) at http://www.digimart.org/en/index. php# (accessed 23 March 2006). 13. Research is just starting to be disseminated and published on the various DIY user-generated content practices developing online. See for instance, Julia Kennedy, ‘We Tube, They Tube: Mapping Imagined Communities and the “Maddie Phenomenon” in User Generated Content’, paper delivered at Postgraduate Research Day, University of Sunderland, 27 March 2009; Rayna Denison, ‘Animated Pirates: Discourses of Media Piracy and the Animé Fan Subtitler’, Research Seminar, University of Sunderland, 27 April 2009; Jean Burgess and Joshua Green, YouTube: Online Video and Participatory Culture (Cambridge: Polity, 2009); and Pelle Snickars and Patrick Vonderau (eds), The YouTube Reader (Stockholm: National Library of Sweden, 2009). 14. As indeed are some television corporations. The BBC has experimented with open access to an online archive of a range of their programming, and NewsFilm Online has recently been launched (www.nfo.ac.uk) which makes available over 3000 hours of historic footage from ITN’s archive division. 15. See, for instance, Reframe (http://www.tribecafilminstitute.org/filmmakers/reframe/), Onlinefilm. org (http://www.onlinefilm.org) and VODO (http://vodo.net/). All aim to make more available work which has historically been less accessible. However they are pursuing different business models: Reframe is collaborating with Amazon; Onlinefilm.org is collectively owned by filmmakers/ producers and pursing a ‘Digital Rights Fair Trade’ principle; while VODO – an abbreviation of ‘Voluntary Donation’ – exploits peer-to-peer distribution whereby downloaders become sponsors of the site’s releases. Producers, distributors and media organisations are also increasingly exploring the possibilities of cross-platform delivery of content. In 2009 Babelgum, an independent web and mobile TV service, announced a ‘landmark deal’ for the multi-territory and mobile release of Sally Potter’s latest film, Rage (http://www.screendaily.com 11 June 2009), while MUBI and LoveFilm are now offering online delivery via the PlayStation 3 platform and Netflix via the Wii platform (as is BBC iPlayer). 16. ‘About Second Run’ at http://www.secondrundvd.com/about.php (accessed 14 January 2009). 17. Erich Sargeant, Acting Head of Content, British Film Institute, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 11 March 2005. 32

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18. Louise Witt, ‘Outfoxed: A Unique Sleeper Hit’ Wired News, 23 July 2004, at http://www.wired. com/news/digiwood/0,1412,64312,00.html (accessed 22 March 2006). Now available at http:// www.wired.com/entertainment/music/news/2004/07/64312 (accessed 15 July 2010). 19. Rick Prelinger, keynote presentation, Recycled Film Symposium, Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle, 12 March 2010. 20. In fact, the International Federation of Film Archives (FIAF) actually prevents accredited members doing distribution although they are a source of prints for distributors and can lend prints to other FIAF members. See John Mhiripiri, Anthology Film Archives, in interview with Peter Thomas, 1 August 2003. 21. Indeed the back cover of Snickars and Vonderau, 2009, op. cit., heralds it as just that: ‘YouTube … has rapidly developed into the world’s largest archive of moving images.’ 22. At the October 2008 Power to the Pixel conference in London, speakers Christy Dena and Alex Johnson both argued that so called ‘digital natives’ – the generation who are growing up in the digital era – expect to be able to access and receive moving image content across a range of platforms. Indeed, Dena in particular argued that it is no longer possible to regard film as a single product, but suggested that we have instead to think of ‘stories’ that are accessible across multiple platforms. While this is not entirely new, she argued that projects are now increasingly conceived from the outset as multi-platform products. 23. Quoted in Pat Aufderheide, ‘The Changing Documentary Marketplace’, Cineaste (Summer 2005): 26. 24. For instance, at a masterclass given at the University of Sunderland in July 2008, film producer David Puttnam bemoaned the fact that young people were not watching a wider range of films since, he claimed, ‘everything was now available’. 25. Apparently a user uploaded the film to YouTube and then contacted Le Grice to see if he minded. The only objection Le Grice raised was to do with the quality of the image and the work was taken down to see if this could be addressed. The film is now available again at http://www.youtube. com/watch?v=LDj8Tc6259o (accessed May 2010) and via the Lux website. 26. The Arts on Film Archive is an Arts and Humanities Research Council funded online database project which houses digitised copies of all the films produced by the Arts Council of Great Britain about art and artists, accessible at http://artsonfilm.wmin.ac.uk/ (accessed 1 August 2009). While the database of information about the films is available to any internet user, the films themselves can only be accessed by users based in UK institutions of further and higher education due to copyright restrictions imposed by the Arts Council. 27. ‘About Reframe’ originally at http://reframecollection.org/about.jsp (accessed 14 January 2009), now located at http://www.tribecafilminstitute.org/reframe/about/ (accessed 1 February 2011). 28. Paul Gerhardt, Director, Archives for Creativity, panel speaker at the Recycled Film Symposium, Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle, 12 March 2010. 29. And of course digital formats can prove unstable. While digitisation can certainly make work more easily available, it does not guarantee long-term preservation. See for instance Jan-Christopher Horak, ‘The Gap Between 1 and 0: Digital Video and the Omissions of Film History’, Spectator 27(1), special issue on Media Access: Preservation and Access, Spring 2007: 29–41. 30. Aufderheide, 2005, op. cit., p. 26. 31. On 14 January 2009, the video – at http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=jjXyqcx-mYY – showed 15,289,750 views. 32. Martin Lucas and Martha Wallner, ‘Resistance by Satellite’ in Tony Dowmunt (ed.), Channels of Resistance: Global Television and Local Empowerment (London: BFI/Channel 4, 1993), pp. 176–94. 33. Dowmunt, ibid., p. 13. 33

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34. Holly Aylett, ‘Diversity of Expression in the Global World’, in conversation with Professor Christine Gledhill, recorded keynote presentation at Future Histories of the Moving Image conference, University of Sunderland, 16–18 November 2007. See http://www.archive.org/details/ FutureHistoriesoftheMovingImageResearchNetworkDiversityofExpressionintheGlobalWorld (accessed 15 July 2010). For more information about the conference see http://futurehistories. net/ (accessed 15 July 2010). 35. These issues are also being increasingly recognised in other spheres of cultural production. See for instance, Guy Morrow’s ‘Radiohead’s Managerial Creativity’, Convergence 15(2) February 2009: 161–76; and Jason Wilson, ‘“Preditors”: Making Citizen Journalism Work’ (forthcoming) 36. Aylett, 2007, op. cit. 37. Film and Video Umbrella is not usually considered to be a distributor or distribution organisation, they are more usually termed a promotional or curatorial agency. However, given their explicit remit to promote and market touring packages of artists’ moving image work to venues, it is arguably legitimate to group them with the more traditional distributors. Furthermore, both Michael O’Pray and Jeremy Welsh who worked for the Umbrella regarded the organisation’s activities to be very much ‘about distribution’. See O’Pray, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 7 June 2005; and Jeremy Welsh, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2005. 38. Harvey, 1986, op. cit., p. 237. 39. Fountain, 2007, op. cit., p. 31. Fountain notes a whole range of social, political, cultural and theoretical challenges in addition to these, including for instance the opposition to the US war on Vietnam and opposition to the Stalinism of Eastern Europe represented by the Prague Spring, as well as a radical re-thinking across a range of academic disciplines. 40. Harvey, 1986, op. cit., p. 238. See also Fountain, ibid. 41. See Fountain, ibid., pp. 32 and 36. In Rod Stoneman’s Independent Film Workshops in Britain 1979 (Torquay: Grael Communications, 1979) it lists 22 film workshops in 15 different cities. A second wave of workshops – in part aided by Channel 4 funding – followed in the early 1980s, swelling the numbers further. In Nigel Power and Justin Lewis’ 1987 report for the IFVPA, Twenty Years On: A Review of the Independent Film and Video Sector in London, they list 20 film and video workshops in London alone. 42. Not that the two are necessarily entirely separate or discrete areas. See Margaret Dickinson, Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999). 43. Helen de Witt and Kate Norrish, former Cinenova workers, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 18 November 2004. 44. Furthermore, Contemporary, Plato, Concord, Harris and the BFI’s distribution wing were all set up prior to the founding of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, which is identified by Harvey, 1986, op. cit., p. 237, as marking the origins of ‘the modern independent film movement’. Quoted in Mick Hartney, ‘inT/Ventions: some instances of confrontation with British 45.  broadcasting’ in Julia Knight (ed.) Diverse Practices: A Critical Reader on British Video Art (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey Media/ACGB, 1996), p. 22. See also Graham Wade, Street Video (Leicester: Blackthorn Press, 1980), pp. 6–7. 46.  See, for instance, speaker presentations at the Power to the Pixel conferences at http:// powertothepixel.com/ (accessed 16 January 2009). 47. For those familiar with the UK context, it is also noteworthy that the same is true for a number of people who worked in the wider independent film and video sector. For instance, Rod Stoneman programmed the Arnolfini cinema in Bristol and organised two South West Independent Film Tours before also becoming a Channel 4 commissioning editor and subsequently heading up the 34

Introduction: So Much More than Meets the Eye

Irish Film Board; the Artistic Director of London’s new BFI Southbank complex, Eddie Berg, started his career programming Film and Video Umbrella material in Liverpool and setting up the major biennial Video Positive Festival; while Jeremy Isaacs’ experience of chairing the BFI Production Board fed into his role at Channel Four, where as the channel’s first Chief Executive he championed the setting up of its Independent Film and Video Department. 48. Glasgow University Media Group, Bad News (London, Boston & Henley: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1976), p. 1. 49. Curtis’ book does include short sections on the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, London Video Arts and briefly Circles, while Reekie documents the early Co-op years. Research has been undertaken by others about two of the organisations, which as yet remains unpublished. Both Deke Duisenberre and Peter Mudie, for instance, have done extensive research on the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, while Felicity Sparrow has undertaken PhD research on Circles, the organisation she founded. Duisenberre’s work remains in the form of an unpublished PhD, while Mudie is endeavouring to convert his work into book form. 50. Among those who have died in recent years are Tamara Krikorian who was a founding member of London Video Arts, Eileen McNulty who was an early member of the Cinema of Women collective, and Andi Engel who was an early member of The Other Cinema’s Council of Management and co-founder of Artificial Eye. Other figures involved in the sector who have also recently passed away are Tony Sinden (video artist), Ian Breakwell (artist, filmmaker and video artist), Murray Martin (co-founder of Amber Films) and Will Bell (formerly Education Officer, Film, Video & Broadcasting Dept, Arts Council of Great Britain). 51. Robert K. Yin, Case Study Research: Design and Methods (3rd edition; Thousand Oaks, London & New Delhi: Sage Publications, 2003), pp. 5–6. 52. Ibid, p. 7. 53. Ivar John Erdal ‘Cross-media (re)production cultures’, Convergence 15(2) May 2009: 220. 54. ‘Independent Film and Video Distribution in the UK during the 1980s and 1990s’ (2002–04) and ‘The Contemporary Promotion of Artists’ Film and Video in the UK’ (2004–05). For further information, see our project website ‘Independent Film and Video Distribution in the UK’ at http://alt-fv-distribution.net. For the purposes of focusing the book and presenting our findings, we have articulated our research questions in this Introduction slightly differently to how they were framed in the funding applications, but they remain the same in both purpose and scope. 55. Nowell-Smith has also recently completed an AHRC-funded research project on the British Film Institute, the findings of which are in the process of being published. The history of Exploding Cinema (http://www.explodingcinema.org/) and the London No 56.  Wave film movement can be found in: Duncan Reekie, Subversion: The Definitive History of Underground Cinema (London: Wallflower Press, 2007); Stefan Szczelkun, Exploding Cinema 1992–1999, culture and democracy (PhD Thesis, RCA 2002) at http://www.stefan-szczelkun.org. uk/index2.htm (accessed 10 July 2010); and early editions of Filmwaves magazine. 57. See for instance, Dickinson, 1999, op. cit., p. 8; and for a wider discussion, Annette Kuhn ‘A Journey Through Memory’ in Susannah Radstone (ed.) Memory and Methodology (Providence & Oxford: Berg, 2000), pp. 179–98. 58. Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, ‘Distribution and the Question of Diversity: a Case Study of Cinenova’, Screen 49(3) Autumn 2008: 355. 59. The majority of the research material accessed in the course of our research was scanned or photographed and held offline. The FVDD was funded as a resource enhancement project, under the title ‘Databasing key documents and narrative chronologies of artists’ film and video distributors in the UK’ (2005–08). As a collaboration with the British Artists’ Film and Video 35

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Study Collection, it also functions to provide an institutional history which complements their holdings of the artists’ material. 60. Dickinson, 1999, op. cit., p. 2. 61. Ibid. 62. Laura Mulvey, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 June 2003. 63. Fountain, 2007, op. cit., p. 31. 64. Malcolm Le Grice, ‘A Reflection on the History of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, in Dickinson, 1999, op. cit, p. 106. 65. Mitzi Waltz, Alternative and Activist Media (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press 2005), p. 3; Tony Dowmunt (with Kate Coyer), ‘Introduction’ in Coyer, Dowmunt and Fountain, 2007, op. cit., p. 9. 66. Dickinson, 1999, op. cit., pp. 2–5. 67. Chris Atton, Alternative Media (London: Sage, 2002); Atton, ‘News Cultures and New Social Movements: Radical Journalism and the Mainstream Media’, Journalism Studies 3(4) 2002: 491–505; and Atton, An Alternative Internet: Radical Media, Politics and Creativity (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2004). 68. Dowmunt in Coyer, Dowmunt and Fountain, 2007, op. cit., p. 4. He also posits a rather appropriate definition of ‘alternative media’ as: ‘media forms that are on a smaller scale, more accessible and participatory, and less constrained by bureaucracy or commercial interests than the mainstream media and often in some way in explicit opposition to them’ (p. 1). 69. Catherine Elwes, Video Art, A Guided Tour (London & New York: IB Tauris, 2005), p. 1.

36

Chapter 1 DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers’ Co-op1

T

he London Film-Makers’ Co-op, The Other Cinema, London Video Arts, Cinema of Women and Circles were all set up by or with the close involvement of the artists and filmmakers themselves. In each case the enthusiasm, commitment and energy of a small group of individuals was absolutely central to the activity being initiated, and they provided an essential base of volunteer labour that sustained the activity in its formative years. While distribution generated some income, this was deeply variable and most of the organisations remained heavily dependent on volunteer labour to cover the full costs of the distribution operations. However, because it is difficult to grow an area of cultural activity on a voluntary workforce and trade earnings alone, state funding was sought fairly early to support or develop particular aspects of their work – print acquisition, catalogue production, equipment purchase and exhibition. Most groups also later accessed revenue funding to pay for what were then transformed into staff positions. Since it changed their nature and the way they operated, this transition from volunteer-activist origins to grantaid dependence is a crucial stage in the histories of these organisations. While the specifics vary from organisation to organisation, this chapter uses a case study of the London FilmMaker’s Co-op (LFMC), between its founding date of 1966 and the early 1980s, to explore the kinds of changes that occur and their ramifications for a distributor. It is during this period that the LFMC shifted from a wholly independent, volunteer supported organisation to one substantially if not wholly dependent on grant aid for its continued existence. At the same time, a number of funders – including the Arts Council of Great Britain, the British Film Institute and Channel 4 – also made their own interventions directly into the realms of distribution and exhibition, with varying outcomes for the independent distributors. Although further examples will be explored in later chapters, this chapter’s focus on the LFMC enables an examination of the impact of the Arts Council’s promotional initiatives during the 1970s, alongside the British Film Institute’s annual funding of the Co-op from 1975 onwards. Underground Origins and the Co-operative DIY Ethos In the ‘swinging’ London underground of 1966, October was a significant month: on the 11th, an underground newspaper called The International Times (IT) was founded by, amongst others, John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins and Jim Haynes. It had an editor but no editorial policy – whatever was sent in was printed. As the paper was not expected to pay for itself, a 39

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bootstrapping operation was devised whereby a series of benefit raves supported the paper and publicised its existence, while the paper publicised the raves. At the first of these, the IT launch party held on the 15th at the Roundhouse in North London, a band called Pink Floyd received its first public notice. This is where the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC), officially formed two days earlier, held its first film show. The LFMC had been set up at Better Books, a bookshop on New Compton Street,2 where manager and poet Bob Cobbing had already been screening underground films among the performances, readings and other events he regularly staged at the shop.3 Founding members included Cobbing, Simon Hartog, Ray Durgnat, Steve Dwoskin, Andy Meyer and Harvey Matusow.4 Although an early draft constitution included ‘encouraging the making of independent non-commercial films’,5 and IT announced the Co-op would aid filmmakers ‘by making available equipment and technical advice’,6 both Dwoskin and frequent Better Books visitor David Curtis have observed that there were in fact very few British underground filmmakers or films around.7 While there was a hope to stimulate specifically English production – and over 20 people attended two planning meetings earlier in the year – the impetus for setting up the Co-op came mostly from those interested in seeing, showing and writing about experimental film.8 Indeed, the initial constitution included distinct membership levels for filmmakers and non-filmmakers.9 An important third party to the prehistory of the LFMC was The (New York) Film-Makers’ Cooperative (FMC). In a letter to FMC filmmakers in May 1966, Jonas Mekas wrote that we have a huge pile of letters from various corners of Europe asking to send them programmes of Avantgarde (Underground) cinema. We couldn’t do anything about it because of the costs & time involved. London is our solution.10 He suggested producing $2000 worth of prints to send to London, where FMC filmmaker and provocateur Barbara Rubin was involved with local activists and expatriate Americans (such as Dwoskin, Meyer and Matusow) in setting up a new Co-op.11 Thus the LFMC could begin life as more of an open access distributor and freewheeling exhibitor, whose primary function was to promote such work and guarantee its availability, prior to the onset of substantial local production. In the following month, November, the LFMC staged its first major film series, the ‘Spontaneous Festival of Underground Film’,12 which received four pages of coverage in IT (written, of course, by LFMC members).13 The six-day festival screened ‘just about every piece of experimental film that was available in London’14 and was followed by a further six nights of open screenings at Better Books – screenings where anything that turned up on the night was projected. Towards the end of the month, Matusow wrote to Mekas, celebrating their achievements so far: In the past three weeks we have had an ‘opening festival’ of films, and have screened over seventy (70) new films. Over half of them had never been seen before here in London. 40

DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers Co-op

… Within six to eight weeks we should have our catalogue out. … We have over one hundred requests for film programs from all over England.15 Open and programmed screenings at Better Books filled the rest of the year and, according to Dwoskin, were attended by increasingly large audiences.16 At Christmas the IT raves shifted to a fixed venue, the UFO Club in nearby Tottenham Court Road. Dwoskin describes the UFO as part of an attempt to turn London into an all-night city like New York,17 and alongside its lightshows, bands, jugglers, performance artists and food stalls, Curtis regularly provided projections of avant-garde film work18 until the venue closed in October 1967. Although – as noted in our Introduction – Sylvia Harvey traces the origins of the modern independent film movement to the founding of the LFMC in 1966,19 the LFMC’s own origins were firmly rooted in a far wider anti-authoritarian and countercultural movement.20 As Durgnat has asserted, the ‘[founding] generation LFMC (including Dwoskin) had something in common with the bohemian-beatnik-hippie traditions’.21 By mid-1967, IT co-founder Jim Haynes was working with others to found the first UK Arts Lab, designed to be a forum in which to foster new ideas about the arts and art practice. When it opened in September in London’s Drury Lane, it included a theatre, restaurant, gallery and cinema. Around the same time the LFMC lost its first home when the new owners of Better Books halted all Cobbing’s cultural activities and gave him notice. Although there was some discussion about the LFMC moving to the new Arts Lab, in the long run it was deemed neither possible nor desirable.22 In the meantime, the LFMC’s film collection and distribution function moved to various members’ homes, while Curtis started running the Arts Lab cinema, programming a mixture of ‘camp and classic feature films, open screenings and a once a week co-op show’.23 The feature films generated the larger audiences and hence much needed income, while the open screenings were a strategy to help nurture, and indeed locate, home-grown filmmaking talent. As Curtis wrote: Our aim is to assist new film-makers at all stages of their work. We show not just all the available films by established Independent Film-makers (as the I.C.A. does) … but show ANY film by ANY new film-maker. (I have never refused to screen a film).24 Curtis conceded that this meant the programming was liable to ‘extreme fluctuation in quality’, but viewed that as ‘healthy’ and argued that on the whole it meant anyone could get their film shown at a few hours notice.25 While the LFMC remained without an official home, a group of filmmakers started using the Arts Lab as a base and Curtis was given plans for a ‘film processing set up’.26 Two filmmakers who had screened work at the Arts Lab – Malcolm Le Grice and Bennett Yahya – constructed the equipment, which was then to be made available for co-operative use. As this started to duplicate one of the Co-op’s envisaged roles, discussions began about amalgamating the two groups. At a Film-Makers’ General Meeting in March 1968, the two groups agreed that ‘the future Co-operative should be solely a provider of services and facilities for film-makers’,27 41

Reaching Audiences

but differed on how the Co-op should be run. Although there was insufficient space at the Arts Lab, Le Grice and Curtis in particular were keen to establish a production workshop, or ‘film laboratory’ as they termed it,28 in addition to the already established distribution and exhibition functions. Although it took 18 months or so for the differences to be ironed out – mainly through the gradual departure of the founding Better Books community – the merger of the two groups finally brought together production, distribution and exhibition in the same organisation, and resulted in a new constitution drawn up by Le Grice and Hartog.29 While they still had to find a home for the Co-op – one that could accommodate the new workshop activity – a new activist philosophy was propounded whereby, in an attempt to break down the alienating effects of the film industry’s division of labour, the filmmaker would operate in and be responsible for all areas of film work – just as the Co-op now was. A central aspect of this period was that many artist filmmakers not only made films, but also built and maintained equipment, shared expertise, helped each other, and organised and promoted shows. A number of Co-op members and workers have since recalled this DIY and mutual support ethos as a key characteristic and strength of the Co-op.30 Later they knocked holes in walls to get equipment out of difficult buildings, performed DIY renovations on new premises and lobbied for funds. As Malcolm Le Grice has observed: While ideas, concepts and enthusiasm were essential you needed at least twice as much, if not more – tenacity, obstinacy, tolerance, patience, the ability to type (two fingers would do), to lay breeze blocks, mend pavements, pull cable through conduit, improvise plumbing and then later, teach people to use somewhat temperamental equipment, plan screening schedules ... and even later prepare proposals to con money from individuals or government agencies.31 The new LFMC was a resource for the activist community that had created it to answer their own needs. Its growing distribution library became an important resource for emerging and veteran programmers and event managers, guaranteeing the availability of films that might otherwise have sat dispersed with their various makers or simply been unavailable in the UK. Once the LFMC acquired their own dedicated space, their cinema exposed the work, and an equipment collection was created in a production workshop. The LFMC continued to exist and grew in those early years because it was to the advantage of its activist membership that it did so.32 At the point when the Arts Lab filmmakers group and the LFMC merged in 1968, it was made clear that the future LFMC was to be a filmmakers’ organisation – owned and run by, and for the benefit of, filmmakers. While some operational details would later be revised, the key principles governing the Co-op were identified: 1. That the Co-op should be a service run by film-makers (and film-makers only.) [...] all decisions should be rejected or endorsed by reference to the film-makers. as a) there are no policy decisions to make – the Co-op is a service b) there are no ‘taste’ decisions – ALL films submitted will be accepted [...] 2. […] Should any controversy arise, a vote will be taken at a meeting.33 42

DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers Co-op

Although these radically democratic principles are clearly marks of the countercultural movement, the emphasis on the filmmaker marked the beginning of a shift away from that wider movement in which the LFMC had originated, and towards the assertion of film as an arts practice in its own right.34 If this emphasis on filmmaking tended to subordinate the LFMC’s distribution function, the distribution library could still play a key role – film rentals could offer filmmakers an income (even if only a modest one) which could in turn be reinvested in future production work. Since the Co-op was a resource for its members and functioned as a service, it returned as much of those film rentals as possible to the filmmakers. Members had to supply the prints of their films themselves, but they retained ownership of those prints and could withdraw them at any time, subject to honouring any pre-existing bookings. Hence the Co-op did not purchase prints, nor particular distribution rights in a title and thus issued no contracts. While the Co-op promoted the distribution library as a whole, the filmmakers were expected to undertake the promotion of their own films and were left free to determine their own rental fees. Initially, however, the distribution library largely consisted of overseas work. While Matusow had complained in February 1967 that the Co-op library was still very small,35 by 1968 Curtis and American artist Carla Liss were compiling the organisation’s first proper catalogue, listing around 100 films. Liss’s involvement with the Co-op gave distribution a significant boost since, as a friend of Jonas Mekas, she was finally able to negotiate the acquisition of a substantial number of FMC prints – the greater part of P. Adams Sitney’s travelling New American Cinema Exposition.36 Curtis and Hartog had arranged for Sitney and his Exposition to tour 12 universities in England following a week-long presentation of the New American Cinema programmes in April 1968 at London’s National Film Theatre.37 The tour was the first major showing in England for filmmakers such as Mekas, Bruce Baillie, Stan Brakhage, Robert Breer, Ken Jacobs, Peter Kubelka, Gregory Markopoulos, Ron Rice, Harry Smith, Jack Smith, Warren Sonbert and Andy Warhol. While opinion is divided on the precise extent of the tour’s impact – and Sitney himself was apparently disappointed by its reception38 – the Co-op’s acquisition of the films in the wake of the UK tour allowed it to significantly increase the college and film society markets for its films.39 A long time coming since 1966, in October 1968 Liss convinced Mekas to persuade the American filmmakers to donate tour prints to the LFMC as ‘a permanent library’ in order to help raise awareness of US work in Europe and the UK.40 The quid pro quo of this agreement was that Liss, as the Co-op’s first paid employee, would be handling their distribution.41 The imperative to secure American underground prints had already sent the LFMC to another US distributor, the Creative Film Society,42 and was strong enough to tip the LFMC into a major faction battle. Cobbing resigned over the issue – the imposition of a paid employee that the Co-op could ill afford – and Hartog and Dwoskin both left within the year, but the crux remained that the US filmmakers were not prepared to send their films to someone they did not know.43 The distribution library grew as indigenous production started to build. By 1975, the Co-op reported that they had approximately 500 titles, split roughly 50–50 between foreign and British films. Most of the British films were made through the Co-op and represented 43

Reaching Audiences

the ‘bulk of British Independent cinema production (very little work in this area having been produced before 1967)’.44 While a significant proportion of the library’s business continued to be with university film societies and art colleges, the LFMC had also organised or supplied the films for over 60 events at festivals, galleries and museums across the world – including the Tate in London, the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, the Berlin and Oberhausen Film Festivals in Germany, New York’s Museum of Modern Art and regular slots at both London’s National Film Theatre and the Edinburgh Film Festival, as well as providing all the films for a 1974 British Council film package for Belgium. The latter resulted in the Belgian Film Archive purchasing works by a number of Co-op filmmakers.45 Thus, the LFMC, as an organisation run by and for filmmakers, had made a significant contribution to exposing and developing awareness of experimental and avant-garde film, and to building an international presence for UK work. The Search for Funding 1: The Arts Council and FACOP The distribution library also generated an income for the LFMC through the abovementioned activity, but with 70 per cent of this returned to the filmmakers, very little was left to cover running costs.46 Likewise, Curtis’ experience of running the cinema at the Arts Lab suggested that screenings could not be relied upon to make much money.47 As the Co-op expanded its activities, even in the very early years, there was thus a constant need for volunteer help: ‘the more we expand for the film-makers the more work there is and the more we need the film-makers help – please support the Co-op and lend a hand’.48 At the same time, the lack of financial resources also initiated the search for funding to support the Co-op’s activities. Some filmmakers were deeply wary of becoming embroiled with state funding: Dwoskin and Hartog had strong reservations,49 while in New York – during the negotiations for the New American Cinema package – Mekas had been insistent that the young London Co-op should remain independent.50 Others, however, had been casting around for possible sources of funding since the LFMC lost its first home at Better Books in 1967. While its members’ activism kept the LFMC alive, its dependence on volunteerism set material limits to how far and fast activity could expand, and what accommodation could be acquired.51 One of the attractions of the Arts Lab was that it actually had a building. However, in November 1968 disagreements arose over how the Lab should be run, resulting in 11 cofounders and staff – Curtis among them – walking out and severing all connection with the organisation. Although Curtis had begun talking with the Arts Council of Great Britain (ACGB) and the British Film Institute, his approaches had not yet resulted in any funding, since the needs of the Co-op and its filmmakers did not clearly fit their existing funding criteria.52 In a similar vein, when the Drury Lane Arts Lab folded under debts in October 1969, Jim Haynes noted in his farewell letter that an innovative organisation like the Arts Lab had received no support – despite a number of applications and two years of considerable 44

DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers Co-op

multi-media achievements – from an Arts Council which instead gave £37,000 annually to the kitchens of the Royal Opera House.53 While the Arts Lab’s funding applications enjoyed strong support within the Arts Council, the Council Chair, Lord Goodman, had blocked the issuing of any grants.54 Haynes’s earlier efforts at the Traverse and the Jeannetta Cochrane Theatres had received enthusiastic Arts Council backing, but in launching IT and the Arts Lab, Haynes had become identified with the ‘underground’, much of which remained too controversial to be subsidised.55 But the Arts Council was groping towards a way to translate the interest that existed for underground activity into actual grants. One problem faced by the applicants was that the Arts Council’s panels were single media, putting the mixed-media fusion of the underground at a disadvantage. However, in October 1968 a special sub-committee was set up to investigate these ‘new activities’,56 and for several months this New Activities Committee (NAC) gathered evidence about the activities of the growing number of arts labs and other new arts organisations/activities emerging across the country. In December a group of artists also began meeting in London to discuss their concerns about public patronage of the arts, and quickly focused their attention on the NAC, since it seemed that the committee was undertaking no direct consultation with practising artists or those actually involved in the ‘new activities’. Adopting the name ‘Friends of the Arts Council – Operative’ (FACOP), the artists’ group conducted their own research into the needs of the ‘new activities’ sector, and started campaigning for the Arts Council to rethink their approach to arts patronage, gaining some national press coverage in the process and staging a ‘walk-in’ at an NAC meeting in April 1969 to present their case.57 FACOP’s central demand was for artists to have control of the arts – to be achieved in the case of the NAC by instigating an artists’ panel to evaluate funding applications – and this crystallised in the notion of a democratically elected ‘Artists’ Council’.58 While these activities and demands moved some ACGB observers to term FACOP ‘the London extremists’,59 when the NAC presented its findings in May 1969 it was largely sympathetic to the new sector’s needs. It reported that there was sufficient activity to merit the setting up of a new NAC with grant-aiding powers, who could also continue investigating the emerging sector. Although the new NAC did include individuals who were actually involved in the ‘new activities’ as well as some FACOP activists,60 it was allocated a budget of only £15,000 by the ACGB. As FACOP’s research suggested the new sector’s real needs amounted to over £60,000,61 they convened an Artists’ Conference in June 1969 to consult with the wider artists’ community and seek suggestions for further action. The members of the new NAC, meeting for the first time in July 1969, also deemed their budget totally inadequate and, consequently – much to the surprise and annoyance of the committee’s chair, Michael Astor – unanimously decided against awarding any direct grants to specific projects.62 Instead, they decided to use the money to fund several 2–3 day events, which would be staged across the regions (to counter the dominance of London) the following spring. This strategy was intended to raise awareness of the ‘new activities’ in order to ‘make a case for real financial support’.63 At its second meeting, the new NAC then focused on how to best facilitate 45

Reaching Audiences

regional meeting centres (for conferences and discussion forums, as well as performances) and subsequently organised a National Artists’ Assembly in October 1969. Although the Assembly addressed the issue of regional gatherings, it also concerned itself with ‘facopian resolutions’, namely the proposal for a democratically elected ‘Artists’ Council’. This idea, which Astor suspected also involved the dissolution of the Arts Council, and FACOP’s periodic infiltration and railroading of the NAC infuriated the NAC chair. In his report to the ACGB, Astor argued, however, that at least an ‘Artists’ Council’ would ‘bring together and identify the extremists, the nihilists, those who are given to raving in public and one or two more serious political activists’, and was doomed to failure. He offered them £50 from his own pocket to start.64 During this time FACOP were periodically coordinating from the Institute for Research in Art and Technology (IRAT), also known as the London New Arts Lab. IRAT was based in a derelict fire station at 1 Robert Street, a building found by John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins and ‘given’ to IRAT by Camden Council in the late spring of 1969. Scheduled for demolition the following year as part of a redevelopment programme, Camden had agreed to IRAT’s temporary occupancy of the building for a nominal rent and on the understanding that it would be housing a whole range of activities and groups – including an exhibition/concert space, a cinema, theatre, wood workshop, electronic and cybernetic workshop, video workshop, the LFMC, and a metal and plastic workshop.65 In the course of acquiring and setting up the Robert Street premises, IRAT made several applications to the Arts Council for assistance, the first of which went to the original NAC in February 1969. While the NAC considered IRAT’s application high quality, inexpensive and backed by a strong team,66 as with Drury Lane’s applications and IRAT’s subsequent applications, no help emerged67 – although Arts Council Secretary-General Hugh Willatt did later write a supportive letter to Camden Council on IRAT’s behalf to help facilitate the acquisition of the Robert Street premises.68 However, the reasons for turning down the applications from both the Drury Lane Arts Lab and IRAT were not the same. While the Arts Council’s Junior Members’ Panel had, for instance, recommended a grant to the former in October 1968, as noted above, the central approval necessary to making the grant was withheld.69 When IRAT made its applications in 1969, they were told that only the new NAC could make such grants as the Council’s Housing the Arts fund was fully committed.70 The new NAC had, however, committed its entire budget to the regional events planned for spring 1970. Yet IRAT survived long enough to have central disapproval also deny them a small grant in 1970.71 What this shows is not that the Arts Council was monolithically suspicious of the underground, despite the NAC chair’s hostility. Rather, as LFMC member Malcolm Le Grice observed at FACOP’s Artists’ Conference, there was a deep administrational split in the Arts Council between a remit which favoured the provision of largely archaic art to the public and its new endeavour to support contemporary activity.72 In the absence of state funding, Le Grice and others spent the summer of 1969 doing DIY alterations to the Robert Street building, so that IRAT/London New Arts Lab was able to 46

DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers Co-op

open on 4 October, with Le Grice and Liss running the Co-op, while Curtis ran the cinema. In the midst of this, the LFMC also received its first substantial donation. Not from the Arts Council or the British Film Institute (BFI), but from ‘underground millionaire’ Victor Herbert. The wealthy businessman, who had given £500 to help start IT,73 gave the LFMC £3000 for printing and processing equipment.74 While this allowed the Co-op to acquire much needed production equipment and helped provide an important stimulus to English avant-garde filmmaking, the struggle for funding continued. As the November 1970 cinema programme declared: ‘[We are] not subsidised from any public funds. Please write to the Arts Council and the BFI and demand that they support us!’75 With the demolition of the Robert Street premises looming, the LFMC moved out of the old fire station building in December 1970. The following spring Camden Council offered the Co-op a disused dairy in Prince of Wales Crescent, again for a fairly nominal rent, and following more DIY renovation work during the summer, the Co-op reopened in September 1971 – this time, for the first time in its five-year history, in its own dedicated space housing a workshop, cinema and the distribution operation. According to filmmaker-activist Mike Leggett: Virtually from the day we commissioned the new premises at the Dairy in Prince of Wales Crescent, that was the point at which the London Co-op really established itself. Because it was in a premises with quite a lot of space, we were able to set up a cutting room and a whole series of other rooms which could be used for different purposes … so the whole thing seemed a lot more cohesive and identifiable.76 As Carla Liss left just as the Co-op reopened, all the Co-op activities were once again run by volunteers, with cinema and distribution income covering overheads.77 Despite the physical deprivations of the former dairy building – no heating, no seating, with audiences sitting on old floppy mattresses – Curtis has argued that this period during the early 1970s was a particularly active one for the Co-op,78 with its members using the workshop to make films that have since become the mainstay of UK avant-garde film retrospectives. As early as 1973, Le Grice reported that of 60 or so independent filmmakers working in London, about half made some use of the workshop facility and at least one-third were deeply involved in the Co-op, using its facilities for the major part or all of their productions. In addition, he noted, the workshop was also being used by ‘a passing population of foreign or provincial film-makers’.79 And of course, the resulting films were helping swell the distribution library. The Search for Funding 2: The British Film Institute (BFI) However, quite vociferous lobbying for support and recognition from national funding bodies continued and, combined with the exposure the Co-op was achieving for avantgarde film, started to have some effect. Le Grice had been tackling the BFI in particular 47

Reaching Audiences

and in 1972 was approached by the BFI’s Head of Production, Mamoun Hassan, to join the Institute’s Production Board.80 Unimpressed with the kind of films the Production Board had been funding, Le Grice accepted the appointment since it offered the opportunity to try and change the BFI’s approach to funding production work. The Production Board had been funding individuals to make films and, although its remit was to support non-commercial filmmaking, it was still oriented to more conventional uses of film and assessed applications primarily on the basis of scripts. Le Grice argued, however, that it was better to fund the production resource – a workshop facility – rather than actual production work. Along the lines of FACOP’s earlier demands to the Arts Council, this would allow the films themselves to be made with little reference to the opinions or priorities of Production Board members. Instead, ‘the production resource … would itself lead to experimental work’,81 and would put the artists in control of the kind of work they made. While the Board had reservations about such a strategy, they did set up a small Group Support Fund. Although Curtis had withdrawn from active involvement in the LFMC, in 1973 he accepted an invitation to join the ACGB’s newly formed Artists’ Films Sub-Committee.82 This sub-committee was set up by Film Officer Rodney Wilson as an offshoot from their existing Art Film Committee (AFC), which was primarily concerned with funding documentary films about art. During the late 1960s, however, the AFC had also started to fund some artists to make films about their own art practice, which turned into art works in their own right rather than documentaries.83 As the volume of applications coming from artists wanting to work with film as an art form started to increase, the area of activity was deemed to merit its own sub-committee. It had also threatened to encroach on the BFI’s remit to fund non-commercial filmmaking, and in 1971 the government initiated the Arts Council Film Committee of Enquiry, chaired by Richard Attenborough, to consider the way the Council was funding and supporting film production work in the arts. Reporting in July 1973, the Attenborough Committee endorsed the Arts Council’s support of individual artists wanting to work with film, arguing that within its current framework the BFI would find it difficult to fund this area of activity. It recommended that the Council ‘embrace and encourage filmmaking as a fine art activity’ and also explore future possibilities for artists to work with video and television.84 But little of all this really touched the Co-op until yet another premises crisis arose in 1975, and the urgency of this allowed for a change at the LFMC that opened the way to substantial BFI support. In the spring of 1975 the LFMC had submitted an application to the BFI’s new Group Support Fund for over £5000 in order to expand their activities. The application was unsuccessful, partly because the sum applied for exceeded the amount of funding available for film via that scheme, but partly because the Production Board believed that the workshop equipment applied for ‘could not be efficiently utilised without there also being a paid operator/instructor’.85 Hence, the Board thought the proposed expansion more expensive than the Co-op had budgeted for. A further complicating factor arose when, in the time between the application’s submission and the BFI’s final consideration of it, Camden Council gave the Co-op notice to vacate the dairy building for redevelopment. 48

DIY, Counterculture and State Funding: London Film-Makers Co-op

As this necessitated yet another search for new premises, which would in all likelihood involve removal costs and increased overheads, the needs of the Co-op were deemed to be even greater. After more than three years in the Dairy, however, the Co-op had expanded to fill the dedicated premises. This had a significant user base, and any diminution or suspension of their activities would have represented a real loss to the growing avant-garde film community. Although historically the BFI had been a rather conservative institution,86 the presence of people like Malcolm Le Grice, Peter Sainsbury (see Chapter 2) and Margaret Hare on the Production Board at this time was starting to transform some of the Institute’s funding policies. Sainsbury was therefore able to confirm that the ‘Institute as a whole does have a concern for the Co-op’s future’87 and worked with the Co-op to help them reapply. The resubmission was considered at the July 1975 meeting of the Production Board and, in recognition of the LFMC’s considerable achievements, met with unanimous agreement to support in principle, leaving the precise figure required to be negotiated in consultation with the LFMC.88 When the negotiations were over, the Production Board committed £16,020 – just over half as much again as the entire Group Support Fund – as meeting the ‘real needs’ of the LFMC.89 In the meantime the Co-op had secured the temporary use of a disused piano factory at 44a Fitzroy Road for 12 months, and were working with Camden Council to find a more permanent solution to their latest premises crisis.90 Although the awarding of the BFI grant, and any continuing support, was not a foregone conclusion,91 1975 was nevertheless a good time to expect expansion of the Co-op’s activities. In February the massive ‘First Festival of British Independent Film’ in Bristol had been a substantial success, and organisers Independent Cinema West (ICW) had secured, after prolonged lobbying, both BFI and Arts Council funding.92 Although LFMC work was prominent in the festival, the programme also included work from many of the radical workshops then in existence and provided the first opportunity for an overall assessment of the range of independent filmmaking activity taking place.93 The previous year these disparate groups had also formed their own campaigning body, the Independent FilmMakers’ Association (IFA), and it soon inherited Le Grice’s seat on the BFI Production Board.94 Thus, at that time – as indicated in our Introduction – the term ‘independent’ signaled the idea of a broad coalition of groups, from campaign and community groups to the avant-garde, and the Bristol festival was a celebration of this. After several years of pursuing and lobbying for public funding, the beginnings of some recognition and support from funders was seen as part of this success and deemed a considerable achievement. The Problems of Transition and Funded Competition However, while the LFMC’s 1975 grant from the BFI marked the start of annual funding that continued until 2001, and was something long aimed for, it had unexpected effects on the Co-op. Among other things,95 the volunteer distribution, workshop and cinema organisers 49

Reaching Audiences

all became paid staff, while the volunteer secretary and treasurer roles atrophied. The shift from volunteer activism to paid staff had an almost immediate effect and was heralded as the dawning of a new, more established and professional era for the organisation.96 As the LFMC observed in their contribution to the Edinburgh Film Festival catalogue that year, this was particularly noticeable in the workshop: ‘Whereas in the past inexperienced film makers were dependent on each other’s help … those in a similar situation now can expect the informed guidance of the workshop staff ’.97 By November, the Distribution Office noted that ‘the relative financial stability has made a lot of difference’.98 Yet the sense of ‘success’ that was almost palpable in 1975 was relatively short-lived. The large injection of funding had enabled the LFMC, particularly the workshop, to expand its activities. In less than 12 months, production had vastly increased – with 114 filmmakers joining the workshop – and the Co-op attributed this directly to the BFI grant enabling them to purchase vital equipment and employ staff to be ‘constantly on hand to instruct members and maintain equipment’.99 Further, the successful 1975 application had also stated the ambition to double or triple audiences and distribution activity over the next five years.100 But the funded expansion also created a new administrative workload to run the increased level of activity, manage the paid staff, maintain more complex accounting procedures, deal with the BFI, and undertake the additional paperwork required of a publicly funded organisation. Although the funding had indeed ‘made a lot of difference’, it also quickly became apparent that the Co-op was still under-resourced, particularly with regard to the knock-on effects of workshop expansion for the cinema and distribution.101 By March 1976, only seven months after the landmark BFI grant had been awarded, the LFMC had already submitted another funding application to the British Film Institute, this time for £32,027 – double the 1975 grant – to sustain and continue their expansion.102 The application was sent to the Institute’s executive committee, since the Co-op argued the BFI needed to understand the interrelated nature of their production, distribution and exhibition activities, and submitting applications to individual departments within the Institute fragmented that relationship. The example they offered was the need for a new distribution catalogue resulting from the increased workshop activity103 – a cost they had no means of meeting from their own resources. As a result, the application was repeatedly deferred during the spring months, which precipitated a minor crisis in June 1976 when the previous year’s grant ran out and left the Co-op unable to pay staff wages. Eventually, the LFMC’s application was referred to the Institute’s Regional Department, who advised them not to expand any further since the lease on the temporary premises at Fitzroy Road was coming to an end in December 1976, and ‘there is no cast-iron guarantee that the Co-op will exist after that date’.104 Although the Regional Department nevertheless reconfirmed ‘the Institute’s wish to see the Co-op continue in existence and develop in the future’, they were only able to offer an interim grant payment of £2000. When this money ran out in September 1976, the Co-op submitted yet another application detailing their needs to the end of March 1977. This included removal and refitting costs for relocating to new premises at 42 Gloucester Road that Camden Council had in the meantime offered them, and stressed 50

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that the LFMC was now in a ‘situation of emergency’.105 When assistance was not immediately forthcoming, the LFMC wrote again, emphasising the urgency of their situation, with staff by then unpaid for seven weeks, and flagging up the risk of ‘revert[ing] to the pre-1975 situation of relying on voluntary labour’.106 Thus, within 12 months of receiving the 1975 BFI grant, its ramifications for the organisation became apparent. Since the LFMC had never made enough money to pay staff before – aside from the brief employment of Carla Liss107 – it was now dependent on continued subsidy to do so. As Guy Sherwin and Mary Pat Leece, now employees, observed when the 1975 grant ran out: ‘without financial back-up the Coop cannot continue in anything like its present form.’108 It should be remembered that the LFMC’s original application to the BFI Production Board had not actually asked for staff costs, since at the time they had none. The problems brought on by the Co-op’s funded expansion coincided with new promotional initiatives from the Arts Council to raise the visibility of avant-garde film. Since its inception in 1972–73 the new Artists’ Films Sub-Committee (AFSC) had largely confined itself to production awards and bursaries. A significant number of these were made to Coop members who then deposited the resulting films in the LFMC’s distribution library. The LFMC ethos encouraged filmmakers to be responsible for all areas of their film work – including its promotion and exhibition – and this thinking had also extended beyond the LFMC to the coalescing independent film movement. The founding of the above mentioned IFA in 1974 by a collection of groups and filmmakers had been triggered precisely to fight the BBC’s attempt to pass off a series of student works as ‘independent film’, and the IFA and its members took quite some responsibility for the distribution and exhibition of their own works.109 As already noted above, in February 1975 Independent Cinema West had organised the ‘First Festival of Independent British Cinema’ in Bristol, and resourced it through arrangements with the Arnolfini gallery, South West Arts, and eventually the Arts Council and the BFI.110 Similarly, in May 1975 the Arts Council, Greater London Arts Association and Serpentine Gallery supported ‘The Video Show’, an equally ecumenical collection of independent video organised by Peter Bloch (Twenty Four Frames), Sue Grayson (Curator, Serpentine Gallery), David Hall, Stuart Hood and Clive Scollay111 (see Chapter 3). Within a year of each of these exhibitions, Studio International had dedicated a special issue to each area of work, which became sources of several seminal, much reprinted essays.112 Over the next few years, a series of artists, activists and venues accessed AFSC funding to resource exhibitions, and in 1976 this helped support Expanded Cinema Festivals at London’s ICA and Bristol’s Arnolfini, the Derby Film Awards, a Forum on the Avant-Garde Film at the Edinburgh Film Festival, and video art screenings at the Biddick Farm Art Centre. Indeed, at the same meeting in which the AFSC found their budget had nearly doubled, Film Officer Rodney Wilson suggested advertising guidelines for exhibition awards to help the ‘increasing number of exhibition applications’.113 This exposure for the work, initiated largely by the filmmakers and video artists themselves, was both in the AFSC’s interest, as it brought the area of work they supported to wider public notice, and enthusiastically supported by the sub-committee members, many of whom – like David Curtis, Tony Rayns, Laura Mulvey 51

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and Simon Field – had a deep investment in independent and artists’ moving image work. Indeed, soon after the ‘First Festival of Independent British Cinema’, the AFSC proposed to support the LFMC-type integrated model of film activism by subsidising makers to tour with a programme of their own films.114 The Film-Makers on Tour scheme (FMOT) was launched in 1977 under the guidance of David Curtis, who had resigned from the AFSC that year to take up the post of Assistant Film Officer with the Arts Council.115 Extended to cover video in 1980, the scheme sought to encourage the screening of experimental work to wider audiences around the country through two mechanisms: (1) by funding the film/video maker to travel in order to personally present their work at free screenings and engage in post-screening discussions with audiences; and (2) by charging the venue booking the filmmaker only a nominal fee. Filmmakers were paid £25 plus travel expenses, the venues were charged £10, and the Arts Council covered the shortfall. The scheme was piloted with eight filmmakers who had received production funding from the AFSC116 – five of whom were in distribution with the LFMC – but dissent from the wider circle of artist filmmakers soon led the AFSC to extend eligibility to anyone whose work fell within the AFSC’s terms of reference.117 For this reason the scheme was able to expand over the years to include over 70 artists. When it was reviewed in 1981, many of the filmmakers offered very positive feedback, deeming the scheme to have been very worthwhile in terms of reaching wider audiences. Chris Welsby, for instance, noted it was ‘by far the most successful means I have of distributing my films’ and asserted he had been able to show his work to ‘crofters in Scotland, merchant seamen, farmers, fishermen, elderly people, young children and what can’t have been far short of half the population of Milton Keynes’.118 However, the scheme was not without its problems, and in particular it quickly emerged as an alternative point of supply for filmmakers and prints in distribution with the LFMC. In many cases, filmmakers had only one print of their films, which they deposited with the Co-op. Since filmmakers were free to remove their prints from the Co-op’s library at any time, those on the FMOT frequently did so to service bookings made through the scheme. This, however, made it difficult for the Co-op to process other bookings for those films – which were listed in their catalogue, yet at times not actually in their storage cabinets. More significantly perhaps, the cost to venues of using the FMOT scheme – which gave them a filmmaker’s talk, plus screening programme and Q&A session – was less than the rental costs of the films alone if hired from the Co-op. Indeed, at least one filmmaker strongly objected to the fact that the print of a film, listed in the LFMC catalogue as available for a rental fee, could effectively be hired for free by a venue when it booked the filmmaker to present their work via the FMOT scheme.119 ‘Free’ in this case also meant without payment to the LFMC. Although the Arts Council had expected any relevant distributor to receive a share of the hire fee paid by the venue, the LFMC did not claim this for fear of discouraging filmmakers from remaining in Co-op distribution.120 The AFSC – now renamed the Artists’ Films Committee – attempted to remedy this by adding a second tier to the scheme, which allowed it to be used for paying audiences if full rentals were paid to the distributor, but this 52

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lacked the price incentive to the venue, provided a lower direct payment to the filmmaker, and was rarely used.121 While the intention of FMOT was to increase exposure and find new audiences for experimental work – where, according to the filmmakers’ own observations, it had some noteworthy success – the scheme’s most obvious effect was the simultaneous growth and migration of the college and university market from the LFMC to the FMOT scheme.122 In addition to processing regular educational hires, LFMC Distribution had also been routinely organising small shows and college gigs for its members, charging between £25 and £60 and taking 10 per cent.123 This hirer group, developed and serviced by the LFMC, shifted to the subsidised Arts Council scheme for price advantage, often using it as a cheap source of visiting lecturers.124 Indeed, some argued that the fee to filmmakers and video artists was less than the pay for a day’s teaching would have been.125 This use of the scheme became obvious to the AFSC even in the FMOT’s pilot stage,126 and was one of the issues raised in the 1981 review process. While some filmmakers saw no problem with the use of the scheme by colleges and universities, others felt it detracted from the original aim to expand audiences for the work.127 In March-April 1977, just as the FMOT was piloting, the Arts Council also organised a massive retrospective of UK artists’ film at its own Hayward Gallery.128 Nearly all the UK works in the ‘Perspectives on British Avant-Garde Film’ exhibition were made at and/or distributed by the LFMC, yet the Co-op was not mentioned in the exhibition programme because, according to the programme’s introductory notes, the retrospective was of work funded by the Artists’ Films Committee.129 At the same time, the LFMC had organised a British Council sponsored show in Paris, and was looking forward to future British Council collaborations.130 They had also stated in their 1975 BFI application that they intended to field more programme packages both in the UK and abroad. But instead, the next exhibition of UK avant-garde film supported by the British Council was the Arts Council’s touring version of the Hayward show, ‘A Perspective on English Avant-Garde Film’. While the majority of Co-op filmmakers had been fully supportive of the Hayward exhibition, as the touring show reached contracting stage in late 1977, the LFMC started to suspect that they were being pushed into the background, that the Co-op’s historic role of distributing its members’ films was being taken over ‘by the establishment’.131 A series of fractious Co-op meetings were held in December to address ‘the position of the Co-op’s Distribution Office in view of the Arts Council’s heavily subsidised screenings of films.’132 Although LFMC Distribution Organizer Felicity Sparrow had hoped to address other Arts Council schemes, the meetings unsurprisingly focused on the ‘Perspectives’ tour. As with the FMOT scheme, the ‘Perspectives’ touring exhibition’s combination of promotional push and subsidised pricing was expected to result in a loss of bookings to the LFMC – this time from overseas hirers who were generating around a third of LFMC’s distribution income.133 However, not all at the Co-op were entirely opposed to the tour, nor was it entirely an external affair. Deke Dusinberre, who had organised the Hayward show134 and collaborated with Curtis to make the selection for the tour, had been LFMC Cinema 53

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Organizer, Distribution Organizer, and Secretary over the years, and Curtis himself was one of the key activists of the LMFC’s early years. Dusinberre defended the tour, arguing that the Arts Council had the resources to get the tour to countries the Co-op had not previously penetrated, and thus promote British filmmaking to a wider international audience.135 Nevertheless, many of the filmmakers included in the tour felt it offered a poor financial deal to those included while disadvantaging the excluded. In the course of the meetings it was suggested that the Arts Council could have channeled the tour through the LFMC in order to facilitate the selection of a broader and more representative ‘perspective’, as well as provide a better deal for the filmmakers and a percentage cut for the Co-op. However, the following burst of negotiation with the Artists’ Films Committee served only to convince the Arts Council to lift the price to tour venues and increase the fee paid to the filmmakers.136 The LFMC hoped that the hike in hire fees would limit the ability of the package to compete with LFMC Distribution on price alone, but they also unsuccessfully demanded a cap on the number of screenings allowed. The Co-op received the erroneous impression that the package would at least be limited to mainland Europe, and were then mortified to find it competing with Co-op Distribution within the UK, and even for their own long-accustomed slot at the Edinburgh Film Festival.137 During the meetings of December 1977, LFMC Distribution wondered if they would become merely a distributor of US films in the UK,138 yet the next Arts Council touring package was of pre-eminent US avant-garde filmmaker Stan Brakhage, possibly the LFMC’s most popular distribution member.139 Declining Volunteerism Although it may not be a complete explanation, it is the case that, within a short time from the entry of BFI capital into the LFMC and Arts Council capital into the promotion and supply of LFMC films, the urge to omnivorous volunteerism that had created and sustained the LFMC visibly subsided. The volunteer organiser roles had been part of a wider volunteer effort; and as no one was being paid, the roles were an emanation of general co-operative volunteerism and were rotated and shared among Co-op members. Similarly, as part of that wider volunteer effort, filmmakers had actively undertaken the promotion and exhibition of their own and others’ work because it was in their interests to do so. It is possible to argue, however, that once these services and activities started to be paid for by the state, the perceived need to contribute voluntary labour to support them diminished and, if anything, members started to expect an increased level of service.140 As early as 1978, artist-activist Mike Leggett, for instance, expressed concerns that the LFMC’s membership seemed to be becoming increasingly passive.141 In a discussion paper tabled for the Co-op’s general meeting that year, he lamented that the price of funder recognition and support was ‘a drift by many film-makers toward being simply producers, whose responsibilities end by placing the film can in the Co-op cupboard’.142 Thus, he argued that the membership had become less involved in, and more distanced from, the actual 54

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delivery and screening of their work to audiences. Indeed, some filmmakers were neglecting to even deposit their films with the Co-op, preferring to keep them at home in readiness for possible FMOT bookings.143 Without the active involvement of the filmmakers themselves in the distribution and exhibition of their work, Leggett suggested the LFMC could be more accurately described as an ‘archive’ involved in, at best, passive distribution.144 Thus, the increased labour demands resulting from the funded expansion of the Co-op coincided with a decrease in volunteerism. By 1980, what had become the Artists’ Film and Video Committee (AFVC) had also noticed a creeping passivity in the experimental film milieu, particularly a lack of exhibition applications.145 Committee member and LFMC artist-activist Guy Sherwin suggested that the existing schemes were too unwieldy and not engaging, especially for smaller venues. He therefore proposed a more flexible modular format where anyone could pitch a 60–90 minute programme or ‘module’ of work of their choice, to be accompanied by programme notes that would develop a thematic link between the films programmed and offer a new perspective on avant-garde film. Individual modules could then be grouped together into ‘any overall shape or size’, allowing the scheme to cater to various programming needs. Module ‘authors’ would be paid a fee, while extra prints would be purchased by the Arts Council so as not to interfere with existing distribution operations. The LFMC would house the prints, process the module bookings on the AFVC’s behalf and split the rental fee with the filmmakers on the normal basis.146 The scheme was intended to encourage initiatives from outside the Arts Council, had the potential to give the lead back to the artists themselves and in the process remake connections between maker and audience. Although several excellent packages emerged – such as ‘American Video’ and ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’ – the response was relatively slight and slow, especially compared to the energy that had once existed. Opening for applications in mid-1981, this ‘Modular Scheme’ was collapsed into the ‘Umbrella Scheme’ – which later became the Film and Video Umbrella – only months after the first modular packages became available in 1983 (see Chapter 4).147 By contrast, under the Umbrella scheme, touring packages were programmed by an appointee of what became the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee (AFVSC), and terms for distributors were less generous.148 All this ran counter to the foundational philosophy of the LFMC, which was predicated on destroying the segmentation within film industry (production/distribution/exhibition) and culture (maker/critic/impresario) with fierce DIY activity, co-operative endeavour and the development of an ‘integrated practice’. The extent to which the transition from its volunteer-activist origins to funded expansion had impacted on the LFMC became all too apparent by the end of the decade. After finally moving from the temporary premises in Fitzroy Road to Gloucester Avenue in September 1977, rent on their new premises did not become payable until the lease was signed, and lengthy negotiations delayed this until November 1980. Although the new LFMC staff had endeavoured to build up financial reserves from their annual BFI grant to cover the rent payment when it finally became due, the Co-op had also had to finance unforeseen building maintenance and repairs, and had 55

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been forced to carry an increasing deficit over each year since the move. The combination of these factors meant that the Co-op was unable to meet all its financial commitments due in December 1980 by a shortfall of around £6000.149 In desperation, the LFMC applied to the Arts Council for deficit funding in January 1981,150 while members embarked on various fund-raising activities. Although the Arts Council was unable to assist, since the BFI was already revenue funding the LFMC, discussions were initiated between the two funders and the Institute agreed to make an advance payment on the LFMC’s 1981–82 grant to cover their immediate cash needs.151 While the crisis was averted, it was serious enough for the Arts Council’s Film Officer to observe in the midst of trying to find a solution that ‘There is every evidence that the Co-op will collapse if the funds aren’t found’.152 Whereas during the 1976 crisis, the Co-op had tabled the return to ‘the pre-1975 situation of relying on voluntary labour’ as a real possibility, it was questionable this time round whether that was still an option, and it certainly could not have solved the scale of the financial crisis. Thus, it is possible to argue that by the end of the decade – just five years after the landmark 1975 BFI grant – the Co-op had become dependent upon grant aid for its continued existence in any form. Furthermore, as the BFI started paying for Co-op services to be provided, and the Arts Council offered filmmakers alternative promotional opportunities and income streams, the question of what the LFMC, as a co-operative, was still for was a deep one. In 1981, as the LFMC faced this rent/deficit crisis, the AFVC itself provided one answer: The cinema there is the main venue for showing films produced with the [AFVC] film awards and bursaries and their equipment is used in the actual production of these films. [If the LFMC closed down, t]here would be an immediate reflection of this in greatly increased costs in artists’ applications.153 The same year, the BFI and Arts Council set up a working group to ‘coordinate advice and assistance to the Co-op’ to try and put it on a firmer organisational and financial footing.154 Among the recommendations they subsequently discussed with the LFMC were, first, the need for a central administrator to maintain an overview of the Co-op’s activities and shoulder the bulk of the increased administration stemming from the LFMC’s funded expansion; and, second, to reconsider their staffing procedures. Although the organisers had become salaried posts, the Co-op had retained its original practice of electing its organisers for a one or two-year fixed term. While this shared the burden when the roles were carried out by volunteers, and shared the benefits of paid employment when they became salaried posts, as the organisation grew in size it did not facilitate continuity nor allow the Co-op to benefit from accumulated experience and expertise.155 With regard to distribution specifically, the funders’ working group also suggested that the 30 per cent royalty cut retained by the Co-op did not fully cover the real costs of the physical distribution of the films and recommended it be increased to 40 per cent.156 Although the Co-op eventually resisted implementing most of the recommendations – the employment of an administrator being a notable exception 56

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– they nevertheless spent considerable time discussing them with the increasingly passive membership, who dragged its heels over taking decisions. By early 1983 a BFI officer was moved to comment during a Co-op Executive Meeting that there was an evident ‘lack of direction about its aims’.157 While funder recognition and support was welcomed across the sector, it inevitably changed the nature of the organisations that received it. In particular, the LFMC case study demonstrates that the transition from volunteer activism to the employment of paid staff supported by annual revenue funding marks a key moment. While it could facilitate a level of activity and professionalism that had not previously been possible, it could also destabilise an organisation as it became dependent for its future existence on continued funding, rather than its volunteer base. But what is especially ironic about the emerging scenario of filmmaker passivity in the case of the Co-op, is that the activities taken over by schemes developed by the Artists’ Films Committee/AFVC largely originated in the activist milieu, and were indeed carried out for the Arts Council largely by activists who were formed in that milieu. While the funders had offered support precisely because of the LFMC’s achievements, and while the desire for wider exposure of work was general at the LFMC – as was the urge to pursue subsidy – the outcome in this case was the evisceration of that milieu, which had up to that point been the source of the films, ideas, and energy that had produced the achievements. Notes   1. A much condensed version of this chapter was presented as a paper at the 2005 Screen Studies conference by Peter Thomas under the title ‘The Struggle for Funding: Sponsorship, Competition and Pacification’. The paper formed part of the conference’s closing plenary, ‘Cultural Consecration and its Discontents: The Arts Council v. Film and Video Artists’ Organisations, 1975 to Present’ and was later published in an abridged version as part of the ‘British Cinema Institutions Dossier’ in Screen 47(6) Winter 2006: 461–67.   2. In some retellings of the founding of the LFMC, Better Books is reported as being on the Charing Cross Road. It was in fact on New Compton Street, around the corner from 94 Charing Cross Road, the address the LFMC used after their official launch on 13 October 1966.   3. See the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection’s Aural History web pages for information about the origins of these film screenings: http://www.studycollection.co.uk/auralhistory/part1. htm (accessed 13 March 2009).   4. A varying group of people were involved in the genesis of the Co-op over the summer months of 1966, but according to most available sources those listed, together with John Collins and Philip Crick, were the key founding members. See, for instance, David Curtis, ‘English Avant-Garde Film: An Early Chronology’, in Michael O’Pray (ed.) The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926 to 1995 (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey/Arts Council of England, 1996), p. 103; Mark Webber, ‘Chronology of Events and Developments 1966–76’, Shoot Shoot Shoot broadsheet Lux, 2002, p. 6; and David Curtis, A History of Artists’ Film and Video in Britain (London: BFI, 2007), p. 27. 57

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  5. LFMC, Draft constitution sent to Jonas Mekas, July 1966. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents 1966–98).   6. ‘Underground Film Festival Supplement’, The International Times, 31 October–13 November 1966: 7. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   7. Stephen Dwoskin, Film Is … The International Free Cinema (London: Peter Owen, 1975), p. 62; Curtis, 1996, op. cit., pp. 101–103. On the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection’s Aural History web pages it suggests that apart from Dwoskin, during the mid-1960s the only practising filmmakers were the Brighton-based artist Jeff Keen and the Orcadian filmmaker Margaret Tait, who was still unknown in London. See http://www.studycollection.co.uk/ auralhistory/part2.htm (accessed 13 March 2009).   8. Dwoskin, 1975, op. cit., p. 65.   9. LFMC, 1966, op. cit.  10. Jonas Mekas, ‘A letter to film-makers (more exactly, to the members of the Film-makers’ Cooperative), 18 May 1966’, in Jonas Mekas (ed.) New American Cinema Group and FilmMakers’ Cooperative(s): The Early Years. Documents, Memos, Articles, Bulletins, Photos, Letters, Newspaper Clippings, etc. (New York: Anthology Film Archives, 1999), p. 278.   11. Ibid. Rubin was a celebrated trans-Atlantic figure, close to Andy Warhol, Allen Ginsberg and Mekas, and a pioneering filmmaker in her own right. With Mekas and P. Adams Sitney, she famously physically forced her way into the projection booth at the Knokke-le-Zout film festival, December 1963, to attempt to project the banned Flaming Creatures (Jack Smith, 1963), and is credited with choosing the Albert Hall in London for the International Poetry Incarnation, featuring Ginsberg. Jonas Mekas, ‘Letter received on a paper napkin, Knokke, 29 December 1963’, in Mekas, 1999, p. 176. Barry Miles, In the Sixties (London: Jonathan Cape, 2002), p. 57. P. Adams Sitney, in an interview with Scott MacDonald, in Scott MacDonald (ed.), A Critical Cinema 4: Interviews with Independent Filmmakers (Berkeley, University of California Press, 2005), pp. 31–32. Daniel Belasco, ‘The Vanished Prodigy’, Art in America, December 2005: 61–67.   12. Held 31 October to 5 November 1966 at the Jeanetta Cochrane Theatre. The title was possibly related to the Spontaneous Underground at London’s Marquee Club earlier that year, where an unknown band called The Pink Floyd Sound became a fixture at the weekly variety performances. See Miles, op. cit., pp. 98–106.  13. The International Times, 1966, op. cit., pp. 7–10. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   14. Webber, 2002, op. cit., p. 6.   15. Harvey Matusow, letter to Jonas Mekas, 23 November 1966. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents, 1966–98).   16. Dwoskin, 1975, op. cit., p. 64.   17. Ibid., p. 63.   18. These included his own ‘loops and scissors-and-tape collages (very sub Connor).’ See Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 103.  19. Sylvia Harvey, ‘The “Other Cinema” in Britain: Unfinished Business in Oppositional and Independent Film, 1929–84’ in Charles Barr (ed.) All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema (London: BFI, 1986), p. 237.   20. For more on the countercultural context, see Jeff Nuttall, Bomb Culture (London: MacGibbon and Kee, 1968), Jonathon Green, Days in the Life: Voices from the English Underground 1961–1971 (London: Pimlico, 1988) and Miles, op. cit.   21. Ray Durgnat, letter to Mark Webber, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. See also Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 102. Curtis has now also documented these early 58

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years of the LFMC in his recent book, A History of Artists’ Film and Video in Britain (London: BFI, 2007).   22. For a discussion of this, see ‘A New Generation: The London Arts Lab’ on the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection Aural History site at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/ auralhistory/part4.htm (accessed 14 July 2009).  23. Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 104. See also David Curtis, in interview with Michael Maziere, undated, available at http://www.arts.ac.uk/research/filmcentre/maziere/interviews/Curtis. html (accessed 11 March 2009). Felicity Sparrow, founder of Circles, has stressed the value and importance of these screenings, asserting that she got her film education through them. In interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003.  24. David Curtis, letter to Jos Tilson, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   25. David Curtis, letter to Steve Dwoskin, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   26. LFMC, ‘Notice of Film-Makers’ General Meeting’, 13 March 1968: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   27. Ibid. In his contribution to the 1986 Light Years festival catalogue, Le Grice recalls this meeting taking place in 1967, but all the available contemporaneous documentation dates it as 1968. See Malcolm Le Grice, ‘A Reflection on the History of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, in Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999), p. 106.  28. ‘A New Generation: The London Arts Lab’ on the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection’s Aural History site at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/auralhistory/part4.htm (accessed 14 July 2009).   29. See ‘A New Constitution’ on the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection’s Aural History site at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/auralhistory/part5.htm (accessed 14 July 2009).   30. See, for instance, Anna Thew, in interview with Peter Thomas and Duncan Reekie, 29 June 2005; and Mick Kidd, in interview with Peter Thomas, 29 June 2005.   31.  Le Grice, 1999, op. cit., p. 106–7.   32. Peter Gidal, in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 October 2005.   33. LFMC, 1968, op. cit., p. 2.   34. The 1968 constitution specifically stressed that the Co-op had been created ‘to promote the use of film as a medium of artistic expression and to elevate the medium as one of cultural and educational importance’. See LFMC, ‘Draft Constitution for London Film Makers Co-operative’, 1968: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   35. Harvey Matusow, letter to Jonas Mekas, 8 February 1967. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents 1966–98).   36. Jonas Mekas, letter to the filmmakers, 8 November 1968, in Mekas, op. cit., p. 374.   37. In his ‘Early Chronology’, written in 1975, Curtis states the tour preceded the NFT programme (see Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 106). However, in June 2010 Curtis reported to the authors (during a visit to the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection) that subsequent research conducted by Mark Webber, at Curtis’ behest, has demonstrated that the tour followed the NFT screenings.   38. Curtis, ibid. Peter Sainsbury booked the tour for the film society at the University of Essex where he was a student and recalls Sitney being heckled by the audience when he introduced the programme. Sainsbury, in interview with Peter Thomas, 9 December 2004.   39. Both David Curtis and Duncan Reekie have stressed the influential nature of the tour on a number of emerging activists and groups. See Curtis, 1996, p. 107; and Reekie, Subversion: The Definitive History of Underground Cinema (London: Wallflower Press, 2007), p. 151. 59

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  40. Carla Liss, letter to David Curtis, 29 October 1968: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   41. Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 109.   42. Robert Pike, Executive Director, Creative Film Society, letter to Simon Hartog, LFMC, 30 May 1968 and 20 June 1968. Source: Lux (Old Distribution Righbinder). Hartog had been writing since February.   43. See ‘A New Constitution’, op. cit.   44. LFMC, Application for Assistance to the BFI, Summer 1975: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   45. Ibid., pp. 7–8. A full list of events is provided.   46. The 1966 and 1968 constitutions had, in fact, pitched the filmmaker’s percentage as ranging between 60 per cent and 75 per cent, but it soon became established as 70 per cent.   47.  Curtis, letter to Dwoskin, undated, op. cit., p. 2.  48. LFMC, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Newsletter, February 1969’: 3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   49. Webber, 2002, op. cit., p. 6.   50. Liss, letter to Curtis, 1968, op. cit., p. 2.   51. LFMC, 1969, op. cit., p. 2.   52. David Curtis, letter to Sir William Coldstream, Slade School, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. At this time, the BFI had more or less sole responsibility for funding film production work but had not really engaged with artists’ film, while the Arts Council had had film excluded from its remit because this was deemed to be the territory of the BFI. See also Curtis, 2007, op.cit., pp. 61, 66–68.   53. Jim Haynes, ‘Newsletter 1’, 28 October 1969, at http://www.jim-haynes.com/letters/index.htm (accessed 15 May 2009). The letter also contains an abbreviated list of the lab’s achievements. See also Richard Witts, Artist Unknown: An Alternative History of the Arts Council (London: Little, Brown, 1998), pp. 473–74.   54. Ibid., pp. 473–74 (note 48).   55. Ibid.; Jim Haynes, Thanks for Coming! An Autobiography (London: Faber & Faber, 1984), pp. 65, 124, 139–50.   56. Hugh Willatt, Secretary-General, ACGB, ‘Arts Council of Great Britain: New Activities’, Council Paper 433, 10 October 1968. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   57. ‘Chronology of New Activities/FACOP’, Circuit 10/11, July 1969: 7. See also David Bieda (for FACOP), letter to Michael Astor (Chair, New Activities Committee), 28 May 1969. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   58. See John Lifton and Robert Dodd, ‘Presentation of the Case’, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   59. Dennis Andrews, Minute Paper to Hugh Willatt on the National Artists’ Assembly, 27 October 1969: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).  60.  Committee members included, for instance, David Curtis, John Lifton, Jos Tilson and subsequently Jim Haynes.   61. S. Braden, ‘Artists’ Conference Report: FACOP and the conference’, Circuit 10/11, July 1969, p. 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2). 60

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  62. Michael Astor, ‘The New Activities Committee’, undated report to Hugh Willatt (SecretaryGeneral, ACGB): 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   63. New Activities Working Party, ‘An Everyday Fairytale of Artistic Life: or Bread and Water for 2 Days’, 5 September 1969: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   64. Astor, undated report to Willatt, op. cit., pp. 3–4. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).  65. See IRAT, ‘Information Bulletin 2, July 1969’, ‘The New Arts Laboratory Project’, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   66. Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘Minutes of the Fourth meeting of the New Activities Committee’, 20 February 1969: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   67. In fact, individual departments within IRAT (video, photography and the theatre) had received one-off grants from the Arts Council, but the umbrella organisation of IRAT itself received no support to assist with its maintenance and administration. See Biddy Peppin, letter to Lord Goodman, The Arts Council, 22 May 1970. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).  68. Hugh Willatt, Secretary-General, ACGB, letter to Camden County Council, 13 May 1969. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   69. Witts, 1998, pp. 473–74. See also Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘Minutes of the Second Meeting of the Junior Members’ Panel’, 7 October 1968: 3; and Nicholas Albery, ‘BIT Information Service’s Report on Arts Labs’, June 1969: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).  70. Hugh Willatt, Secretary-General, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Biddy Peppin, 13 August 1969; Hugh Willatt, letter to Biddy Peppin, 8 July 1969. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   71. Peppin, 1970, op. cit.   72. Malcolm Le Grice, ‘Artists’ Conference Report: patronage seminar’, Circuit 10/11, July–August 1969: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927– 1997, ACGB/35/146, New Activities Committee, box 2).   73.  Haynes, 1984, op. cit.; Miles, op. cit., p. 133.  74. Malcolm Le Grice, in interview with Michael Maziere, undated, available at http://www. studycollection.co.uk/maziere/interviews/LeGrice.html (accessed 11 March 2009); Curtis, 2007, op. cit., p. 49, note 42.   75. Arts Lab Cinema, November 1970: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents 1966–98).   76. Mike Leggett, in interview with Peter Thomas, 8 February 2004.   77. Webber, 2002, op. cit., p. 7.   78. Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 115.   79. Malcolm Le Grice, ‘Report to the [BFI] Production Board’, tabled 6 June 1973: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82).   80. Malcolm Le Grice, letter to Keith Lucas, Director, British Film Institute, 8 April 1975. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. See also Le Grice, in interview with Maziere, undated, op. cit. 61

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  81. Le Grice, in interview with Maziere, undated, ibid. See also Le Grice, 1973, op. cit.   82. Hugh Willatt, Secretary-General, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to David Curtis, 2 February 1973. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. See also Curtis, in interview with Maziere, undated, op. cit.  83. According to David Curtis, the first of these were David Hall’s Vertical (1969) and Derek Boshier’s Link (1970). See Curtis, 2007, op. cit., p. 66.   84. Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘Report of the Arts Council Film Committee of Enquiry’ July 1973: 7–9. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, ACE Documents).  85. Peter Sainsbury, Production Board, British Film Institute, letter to William Raban, LFMC, 17 April 1975: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   86. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, 2004; Simon Blanchard, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004.   87. Sainsbury, 1975, op. cit., p. 1.   88. Minutes of the 42nd BFI Production Board Meeting, 9 July 1975: 3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82).   89. British Film Institute, Minutes of the 43rd meeting of the British Film Institute Production Board’, 20 August 1975: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82).   90. ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-operative – Relocation: Note of a meeting held at the Town Hall, Euston Road, London, NW1 on 8th July, 1975’. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents).  91. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit., recalled the mid-1970s as a period of particularly intensive activity at the BFI, with a high level of internal debate about funding policy.  92. David Hopkins, Programme of The First Festival of British Independent Film, ICW, February 1975. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.  93. Editorial, Afterimage, 6, summer 1976: 2–3.   94. Le Grice, in interview with Maziere, undated, op. cit.  95. As an annual revenue funded organisation, the LFMC were also required to revise their constitution to enable them to sign the lease on their future premises. Malcolm Le Grice has explained how this involved trying to ‘form a constitution that did as much as possible to maintain the “old” Co-op principles inside a limited company … in a way that maintained the power of cooperative membership. … And it became, I would say, more of a “collective” and less of a “cooperative”’. Le Grice, ibid.   96. Other organisations, such as London Video Access (LVA) and the Independent Film-Makers’ Association, have also noted this as a productive outcome of funding, particularly in the way that it enabled offices to be staffed and phones answered on a daily basis. See, for instance, David Critchley, in interview with Peter Thomas, 23 March 2005; Jeremy Welsh, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2005; and Blanchard, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.   97. ‘London Film Makers’ Co-operative’, Edinburgh Film Festival Catalogue, 1975, n.p. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   98. Mary Pat Leece, LFMC Distribution Office, letter to Charles Lyman, 19 November 1975. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   99. Guy Sherwin and Mary Pat Leece, LFMC, letter to Keith Lucas, Director, British Film Institute, 13 October 1976: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82). 100. LFMC, 1975, op. cit., p. 11. 62

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101. See, for instance, Leggett, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.; and Sparrow, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 102. See Application for Financial Assistance to the Executive Committee of the British Film Institute, from the London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, 19 March 1976. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82). 103. Ibid., p. 2. 104. Alan Knowles, Regional Department, British Film Institute, letter to William Raban, LFMC, 2 August 1976. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82). 105. LFMC, Application to the British Film Institute, Regional Department, for grant aid for the period from now until 31 March 1977, 16 September 1976: 1–2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82). 106. Sherwin and Leece, 1976, op. cit., p. 1. 107. In June 2010 Curtis recalled (during authors’ visit to the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection) that the employment of Liss was to be financed by the income generated by bookings of the New American Cinema films. Former Co-op Treasurer Bob Cobbing has recalled arguing at the time, however, that the organization could not support a paid employee. See ‘A New Constitution’ on the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection Aural History site at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/auralhistory/part5.htm (accessed 14 July 2009). Both sources agree that she was appointed – probably in November 1968 (see Webber, 2002, op. cit., p. 6) – something that, as already noted above, prompted Cobbing’s resignation as Treasurer. Although Curtis refers to Liss as a ‘paid secretary’, he also notes there was a ‘long struggle over the … pragmatic issue of financial viability’ (see Curtis, 1996, op. cit., p. 109) and the economics of the high royalty return to the filmmakers suggests that the level of pay would have been fairly minimal (see our Chapter 5). 108. Sherwin and Leece, 1976, op. cit., p. 2. 109. Dickinson, 1999, op. cit., p. 49. 110. David Hopkins, Poster and Programme for First Festival of Independent British Cinema, Arnolfini Cinema, Bristol, February 1975; Hugh Stoddard, South West Arts, ‘Film and TV’ in South West Arts (ed.) South West Arts Annual Report 1974–75, (South West Arts, Exeter, 1975), p. 1. Source: courtesy of South West Arts. 111. ‘A Chronological Guide to British Video Art’ in Julia Knight (ed.) Diverse Practices: A Critical Reader on British Video Art (Luton: ACE/John Libbey Media/University of Luton Press, 1996), p. 355; David Hall, in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 March 2005; Press Notice for ‘The Video Show’, undated, http://www.vasulka.org/archive/ExhFest10/SerpentineGallery/general.pdf (accessed 14 July 2010); ‘Mind’s End: Draft Application to the NEA’, June 1980, p. 18, at http:// www.vasulka.org/archive/ExhFest10/SerpentineGallery/general.pdf (accessed 14 July 2010). 112. Studio International 190(978), November 1975 was a special issue on ‘Avant-Garde Film in England and Europe’ and included, for instance: ‘The Two Avant-Gardes’ by Peter Wollen; ‘English Avant-Garde Film: an Early Chronology’ by David Curtis; and ‘Theory and Definition of Structural/Materialist Film’ by Peter Gidal. Studio International 191(981), May/June 1976 was a special issue on ‘Video Art’ and included ‘British Video Art’ by David Hall, ‘The Metasoftware of Video’ by Sue Hall and John Hopkins, ‘Video Art and British TV’ by Mark Kidel and ‘Video Art, The Imaginary and the Parole Vide’ by Stuart Marshall. 113. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 7 April 1976: 1, 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 2). 63

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114. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 6 and 18 June 1975, p. 6. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972– 87, box 2). 115. Curtis has related that more actively driving exhibition for artists’ film and video, partly in the wake of ‘The Video Show’ at the Serpentine Gallery in 1975, was precisely his ‘pitch’ to the Arts Council for the job. In interview with Maziere, undated, op. cit. 116. David Dye, Marilyn Halford, Ron Haselden, Tony Hill, Derek Jarman, Jeff Keen, Malcolm Le Grice, and William Raban. Arts Council Touring Exhibitions, Exhibition Information, News Sheet, Feb 1977. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 5). See also the first Film-Makers On Tour catalogue. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. 117. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 23 January 1978: 2; Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 13 March 1978: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 4). David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, letter to Film-makers, 17 May 1978. Source: British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection (courtesy of Mike Leggett). David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, letter to Graham Dean, 8 October 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 5). When the scheme was launched, all screenings on it had to be free and all filmmakers had to have been funded by the ACGB. By early 1978 the AFC had liberalised inclusion so that a filmmaker simply had to be ‘eligible for support’ by the AFC, and not necessarily be funded by them. 118. Chris Welsby, letter to David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, 17 November 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 2). 119. Ian Breakwell, letter to David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, 28 May 1981: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 2). 120. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Chris Garratt, 14 October 1977. Source: courtesy of the Lux. The fee to filmmakers and cost to venues was also increased over the years. 121. While filmmakers would receive their rental split from the distributor, they only received £15 from the FMOT scheme via this second tier arrangement. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 13 March 1978: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 4). 122. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 2 May 1977: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). David Curtis, Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, letter to Stuart Marshall, 30 October 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 2). 123. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Stan VanderBeek, 27 September 1978. Source: courtesy of the Lux. See also Sparrow, letter to Garrett, 1977, op. cit.; and William Raban, letter to David Curtis, Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, Arts Council of Great Britain, 24 October 1981: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 2). 124. Breakwell, letter to Curtis, 1981, op. cit., p. 1. See also David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Film-makers, 17 May 1978: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 4). 64

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125. This comment was made after the payment to filmmakers and video artists had been raised to £30–35. Minutes of the Artists’ Film Committee, 26 March 1979: 4. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 4). 126. See, for instance, Minutes of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 2 May 1977: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). Also Minutes of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 13 December 1977: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). 127. See, for example, Renny Croft, letter to David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, 20 October 1981; and Malcolm Le Grice, letter to David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, 5 November 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, AFVC 1972–87, box 2). 128. The idea for a large programme of films – one section ‘selected from films funded by the Artists’ Films Committee’, while the other would function as context – was introduced to the Artists’ Films Committee by Film Officer Rodney Wilson. Minutes of the Artists’ Film Committee, 13 December 1976: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). 129. See ‘Introduction’, Perspectives on the British Avant-Garde, Hayward Gallery, 2 March–24 April 1977, Arts Council of Great Britain. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. While the exhibition included non-UK work and non-Arts Council funded UK work, this is not obvious in the programme notes. 130. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Chris Garratt, 7 July 1977: 2. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/sparrow770707.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 131. Minutes of LFMC General Meeting, 10 December 1977, p. 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. 132. Ibid. 133. Ibid. This was a real concern since the ‘Perspectives’ touring exhibition was scheduled to go to venues in Paris, Lyon, Avignon, Hannover, Munich, Frankfurt, Cologne, Berlin, Oslo, Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, Fremantel, Hong Kong, Lodz, and Belgrade. See ‘Itinerary for “A Perspective on English Avant Garde Film”’. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-ACE). 134. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 25 February 1977: 4. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ACGB770225.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 135. London Film-Makers’ Co-op General Meeting, undated: 2 (arising from agenda for the General Meeting on 10 December 1977). Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC file). David Curtis has also asserted this view, in email correspondence with the authors, 22 April 2010. 136. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 23 January 1978: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 4). 137.  Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, Announcement of Meeting 9 January, undated; Announcement of Distribution Meeting 6 March, 16 February 1978. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. The ‘Perspectives’ tour screened at several venues in the UK,

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including the Side in Newcastle, the Whitworth in Manchester and the Oxford Film Co-op. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-ACE). 138. Minutes of LFMC General Meeting, 10 December 1977: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. 139. Simon Field, letter to Stan Brakhage, 9 October 1978. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/field771009.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). See also Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee, 18 December 1978: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 4). 140. Simon Blanchard, national organiser of the Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA), noted the same phenomenon when, as a result of annual BFI funding, he became a paid employee of the IFA. He found IFA members were far less inclined to assist with or participate in the necessary lobbying activities, perceiving those to be his role and preferring to concentrate their energies on their own filmmaking activities. In interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004. 141. Mike Leggett, ‘Memo to: The Executive Committee of the London Film-Makers’ Co-operative; The Membership’, 7 May 1978; and Mike Leggett, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op, General Meeting, 28 October 1978, Discussion Paper’, 8 October 1978. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC file). 142. Leggett, October 1978, ibid., p. 1. 143. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Chris Garratt, 10 August 1977; David Finch, LFMC Distribution, letter to Tim Cawkwell, 25 August 1982. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 144. Leggett, October 1978, op. cit., p. 1. 145. Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Committee, 28 April 1980: 6–11. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 6). Throughout its history this committee was known variously as the Artists’ Film Sub-Committee, the Artists’ Film Committee, the Artists’ Film and Video Committee and the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee. 146. Guy Sherwin, Proposal for a Modular Film Exhibition Programme – For Discussion, June 1980 and June/September 1980. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, 27 October 1980: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 6). 147. Subsidised Exhibitions: April 1983/84 (packages and venues), undated, 1984: 1–3. Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, 19 April 1983: 2–3, and 20 June 1983: 8–9. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9). 148. Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, 5 March 1984: 4–5. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9). 149. ‘Urgent Appeal to All Co-op Members’, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 150. Anna Thew, Mick Kidd, Steve Farrer, David Templar, LFMC, letter to Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, ACGB, 2 January 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/13/108, LFMC). 151. Notes on a Meeting on 11th March 1981 between ACGB/BFI re London Film Makers’ Coop. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 66

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152. Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, ACGB, internal memo to Joanna Drew, 17 February 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/13/108, LFMC). 153. LFMC: Application for Accumulated Deficit Grant, 13 February 1981: 2. This is an internal Arts Council document, not the application from the LFMC. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 154. Ian Christie, British Film Institute, ‘BFI/ACGB Recommendations to London Filmmakers Co-operative’, 11 June 1981: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 155. Ibid.: 2. See also David Curtis, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, June 1982: 2: ‘Even without expansion of the distribution area, rotation of staff makes little sense. With expansion it becomes suicidal. Staff need certain skills.’ Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut). In the same document he makes similar observations about the LFMC Cinema. Later some posts were extended to three years, and where two workers were employed to cover one area, their rotation could be staggered to facilitate some hand over. Nevertheless it still militated against the development of long-term expertise. 156. Ibid., p. 3. 157. LFMC, Coop Executive Meeting, 10 February 1983. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut).

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Chapter 2 Exhibition, Political Agendas and Access to Audiences: The Other Cinema and Cinema of Women

T

o help develop a film culture, and indeed to survive, distributors have to ensure their films are seen, and hence access to exhibition outlets is of crucial importance. The LFMC’s solution to the problem was to set up its own screening venue as soon as their London premises provided enough space to do so. As discussed in Chapter 1, however, this was conceived as a resource for their members – it was, as Co-op member Anna Thew has termed it, their ‘own playground’.1 In a similar vein, Circles made regular use of the cinema space at Four Corners, a production and training workshop based in East London, above which Circles had its offices. By contrast, theatrical exhibition – releasing films in conventional cinemas – has the potential to reach far larger and wider audiences, and wherever appropriate small independent distributors have pursued this option. A cinema release not only gives a film national visibility but also helps create a visible profile and identity for the distributor, which can in turn stimulate non-theatrical business – indeed, theatrical exhibition is now widely considered to be a platform for other markets, and distributors are frequently dependent on subsequent DVD sales to make their money.2 However, historically cinema outlets for independent film have been limited, and access to them is also only half the battle. Equally crucial is the ability to build audiences – if few people come to see a film, cinemas will cut short its run and it can virtually disappear without trace. While the following two chapters look at other outlets for and approaches to connecting with audiences, this chapter uses case studies of The Other Cinema in the 1970s and Cinema of Women in the 1980s to explore the multiple challenges that can face small ‘alternative’ distributors and function to restrict the all-important access to theatrical exhibition. It was during the 1970s that The Other Cinema pioneered its attempt to widen the choice of films on offer to the general public, while the period from 1979 to 1986 saw the setting up of Cinema of Women and its theatrical release of a run of feminist feature films. The chapter also examines how that access to theatrical exhibition is inextricably bound up with the ability to develop audiences for their films and, through an analysis of the growing educational market, discusses both the difficulties which that can present and the need for targeted promotional strategies. The Other Cinema: The Search for Exhibition Outlets In March 1969, just as the London Film-Makers’ Co-op were involved in helping acquire the New Arts Lab premises in Robert Street, a meeting was held at London’s Institute of 71

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Contemporary Arts (ICA) to discuss a different area of independent film.3 Convened by Mo Teitelbaum, those attending were concerned at the growing number of new independently produced feature-length films that were finding it hard to secure adequate theatrical exhibition opportunities in the UK – especially outside London – due to the exhibition duopoly exercised by Rank and EMI. The meeting was followed by a conference in May, also held at the ICA, which was attended by a range of ‘leftish’ and liberal-minded individuals: some were involved in film and television production and had just begun to make their names as writers, producers, directors or actors, some were film society representatives in search of a greater variety of films, while others were more interested in film’s potential for political activism. Among those who attended were Tony Garnett, Ken Loach, Ken Trodd, Albert Finney, Harold Pinter, David Mercer, Joseph Losey, Leslie Elliott, Otto Plaschkes and Irving Teitelbaum.4 Discussion at the ICA conference revolved around setting up a ‘third circuit’ of regional exhibition outlets linked together via a central organisation that could both programme and supply the films. On the one hand, the organisation would rent independent cinemas around the country on a part-time basis to provide a 35mm theatrical circuit and on the other, it would exploit the existing 16mm non-theatrical circuit by securing a commitment from (largely university) film societies to hire at least a proportion of the films that would be made available through the new organisation. It was hoped this would give access to wider audiences, which would in turn both justify importing a greater range of films and, importantly, improve the exhibition profile of English films. The conference elected an ad hoc committee to conduct research into the feasibility of such a proposal, while Albert Finney and Otto Plaschkes donated £350 between them to help support the endeavour. While the committee continued to meet throughout the summer, it became increasingly apparent that they needed someone to continue the research, as well as set up and run the new organisation. In July that same year Peter Sainsbury graduated from the still relatively young University of Essex. Having been introduced to cinema-going as a child, when he arrived at the new Essex campus he ‘grabbed’ the then fledgling student film society, ran it for the four years he was there, and along with Simon Field helped grow it into a society ‘showing three films a week, every week of the academic year … [with] quite a big turnover of films’.5 According to Sainsbury the highly politicised student body at Essex – who played a prominent role during the 1960s’ wave of student protests – allowed them to programme a wide range of films and regularly attract large audiences. Using the opportunity to explore various areas of cinema, they programmed both Ingmar Bergman films and John Ford movies, as well as Soviet cinema and contemporary avant-garde work. Indeed, one of their screenings was Sitney’s travelling New American Cinema exhibition. Responding to an advertisement placed by David Curtis and Simon Hartog in the underground press for film societies interested in programming the work, Essex became one of the twelve universities Sitney toured with the films after presenting them at London’s National Film Theatre in April 1968 (see Chapter 1). Partly due to this film society activity, but also due to his own political activism while a 72

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student, the ‘third circuit’ committee recruited Sainsbury in September 1969 to continue developing the proposed new organisation on a full-time basis. As Sainsbury took over researching the feasibility of setting up a third exhibition circuit, he became convinced that the original vision was unviable for a number of reasons. Firstly, independent cinemas were only willing to offer screening time when they themselves did not want it – such as late-night slots – and even then they expected prohibitively high rentals. Secondly, it had been envisaged that all the regional outlets (both 35mm and 16mm) would initially be created in university towns, where at least a nucleus of an audience already existed. However, not only were many university film societies fairly unadventurous in their programming, but their captive audience of students were apparently ‘unwilling … to pay anything like cinema prices for their films, unless they are especially noteworthy’.6 Furthermore, beyond occasional small donations, the proposed organisation – provisionally called Parallel Cinema – had no capital whatsoever with which to import films, purchase prints and rights or meet even minimal cinema rentals. However, if the original core idea of providing an ‘alternative’ exhibition outlet was to be pursued, all involved agreed that a London venue was crucial in order to provide the national visibility that would trigger wider regional exhibition and help build audiences. It had been assumed that the ICA would provide the London cinema for the circuit, but by December the venue had withdrawn its interest. Without even a London cinema at its disposal, the new organisation – now run collectively via a Council of Management drawn largely from the committee elected at the ICA conference – had reached an impasse. Another attendee at the May 1969 conference had been the ICA’s film programmer, Nick Hart-Williams, who had also become a member of the elected ad hoc committee. When the Parallel Cinema group reached its impasse, Hart-Williams quit his ICA job and joined Sainsbury to help develop the new organisation, now called The Other Cinema. At the same time they had also learnt that what was then called the Contemporary Ballet Trust had installed projection equipment and a 250-seat auditorium at their new premises – The Place – near King’s Cross. A centre for contemporary dance, this new venue with its young audience, provided a possible (even if temporary) solution to the lack of access to a London cinema and opened the way to The Other Cinema (TOC) setting up as a distribution organisation with its own exhibition arm. After negotiations, a contract was agreed whereby TOC would present films at The Place five nights a week – one week in four in the 250-seat auditorium, three weeks in four in a studio which could be converted into a small screening room with the aid of a 16mm projector and 80 chairs. TOC opened at The Place – virtually within a stone’s throw of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op at the Robert Street Arts Lab – on 18 February 1970 as a cinema club (since The Place did not qualify for a public cinema licence). Disappointingly, however, they found their initial screenings ‘a considerable failure’ and that ‘the expense of the publicity required to attract the public was out of all proportion to the box office receipts’.7 While they attributed this in part to the fact that the venue was not known publicly as a cinema, after a month of programming less well-known material, they presented a season of films by Jean-Luc 73

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Godard which ‘had the effect of increasing audiences considerably, boosting membership and almost covered its costs’.8 They spent the rest of the year experimenting: firstly with programming at The Place (until their contract expired in May) and secondly with accessing regional venues in an effort to maintain the philosophy behind the original idea. Audiences remained erratic, however. Some programmes managed to attract good initial audiences – such as their opening of Jean-Marie Straub and Danièle Huillet’s The Chronicle of Anna Magdalena Bach (West Germany/Italy, 1968) which had not previously been seen in the UK and received excellent reviews – while others ‘failed to attract any appreciable audience whatsoever’9 – such as a retrospective Festival of Independent British Films which ran for four weeks and mostly screened films which were not available through existing distributors. As Sainsbury recalls: ‘[A] few people used to turn up. I can remember Peter Brook coming to see the Straub film about Bach. There was a little coterie of people, but it was very unrewarding really.’10 However, there were subsequently some notable successes that fuelled the perception that an audience existed for a different kind of film than that exhibited by the Rank/EMI duopoly. The first came about as a result of being asked by Lynda Myles to programme a small Edinburgh cinema for five days during the 1970 Edinburgh Film Festival. Although TOC had started to build a small distribution library, they didn’t yet have enough appropriate films to put together a week’s programme as part of the festival. According to Sainsbury they had contacts in Paris who were distributing ‘Third World’ cinema11 and borrowed a selection of their Latin American films – including Blood of Condor (Dir. Jorge Sanjinés, Bolivia, 1969) and the first part of The Hour of the Furnaces (Dir. Octavio Getino/Fernando E. Solanas, Argentina, 1968). After programming these at Edinburgh, they showcased them, along with a selection of other films from the festival, in a one-off two-week slot at The Place. Billing them as ‘The Edinburgh Festival in London’, they found themselves with ‘an unprecedented success’ on their hands;12 and after this, Sainsbury asserts the Latin American films became very popular.13 A further significant success came the following year. Leslie Elliot, who had attended the 1969 ICA conference, had acquired a former Odeon cinema near London’s King’s Cross railway station and offered it to TOC. In turn Nick Hart-Williams persuaded Rank to allow TOC to premiere The Battle of Algiers (Dir. Gillo Pontecorvo, Italy/Algeria, 1966) at the new venue – the black and white subtitled film had apparently been gathering dust on Rank’s shelves since they had inherited it from Universal Pictures. Opening in March 1971 it was, according to Sainsbury, a phenomenal success: it received rave reviews in a number of the national papers, including one by George Melly for The Observer, as well as in Time Out, and they had queues around the block for several weeks. As Margaret Dickinson has observed, these successes stemmed in part from the fact that the films that TOC were starting to exhibit – almost as much by fortuitous accident as by design – were ‘in tune with the preoccupations of a politicised youthful audience and the critics they respected’.14 With these successes, TOC were beginning to attract attention and their modest distribution library was beginning to grow. Some titles had been acquired through personal connections, and Hart-Williams was also ‘quite adventurous and entrepreneurial at getting 74

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more titles’,15 but increasingly both significant and upcoming filmmakers were expressing interest in placing films with the new organisation. By December 1970 they had already acquired Jean-Luc Godard’s Le Gai Savoir (France, 1969) and British Sounds (France, 1970); Peter Whitehead’s The Fall (UK, 1969) and Benefit of the Doubt (UK, 1967); Robert Kramer’s Ice (USA, 1970); Saul Landau’s Fidel (USA 1971); David Cronenberg’s Crimes of the Future (Canada, 1970); Herbert Danska’s Right On (USA, 1971); and Steve Dwoskin’s Times For (UK, 1971). Most were doing the rounds of film societies and film clubs on 16mm prints, but Le Gai Savior had been enjoying theatrical exhibition via the British Film Institute’s new Regional Film Theatres while Fidel was scheduled for a late-night run at London’s Paris Pullman. They had also nearly completed negotiations to take on Werner Herzog’s Signs of Life (West Germany, 1968) and Even Dwarves Started Small (West Germany, 1970); David Larcher’s Mare’s Tail (UK, 1969); Solanas and Getino’s above-mentioned The Hours of the Furnaces; and Godard’s Pravda (1970) and Lotte In Italia (1971). When TOC merged with another new distributor, Politkino, in 1973, they were able to add the work of Straub and Huillet to their collection. And by 1975 their catalogue listed over 170 titles, including their growing Latin American collection, as well as films by Fred Wiseman and Ousmane Sembene, while Roberto Rossellini and Chantal Akerman were both expressing interest in placing their films with TOC.16 Viability 1: The Need for a Cinema When, however, TOC were unable to retain the King’s Cross Odeon beyond July 1971 or to renew their contract with The Place on a suitable basis, they found themselves once again without an exhibition venue. They did eventually find an alternative at University College London’s Collegiate Theatre, where in April 1972 they mounted a highly successful Festival of Latin American Cinema – which established these films as one of TOC’s main areas. And from September 1973 they commenced regular Sunday screenings at the venue, which averaged 300 people and sometimes sold out the 540-seat auditorium.17 However, lack of access to a regular screening venue throughout 1972 meant their exhibition receipts dropped by over half: from just under £10,000 in 1971 (reflecting the success of The Battle of Algiers) to just under £4000. In the wake of the Latin American film festival and TOC’s growing profile, however, the organisation’s distribution income trebled during 1972: from just over £3000 the previous year to well over £10,000. With 16mm projectors easily accessible at the time, TOC were increasingly finding that their films were being hired out for non-theatrical exhibition by organisations other than the traditional film societies or clubs: by groups who were meeting around political issues and using the films as an aid to discussion, alongside other activities. As Sainsbury has observed: ‘The users of film began to proliferate. … [T]here were the new kinds of users who didn’t meet primarily around film but around socialist or Third World issues in order to discuss anti-colonialist, anti-nuclear and antiimperialist ideas.’18 75

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While the growth in distribution income was of course very welcome, the main rationale for setting up TOC had nevertheless been to provide cinema exhibition outlets and access to audiences – that was what was deemed to ‘provide the real bonuses to filmmakers’.19 But even when TOC did have access to screening venues, they had at times struggled to attract significant audiences. Although The Battle of Algiers was a huge success, it was their only real box-office success – they found it impossible to acquire a follow-up film that could replicate that success. They did show other films at the King’s Cross Odeon, but they didn’t attract significant audiences. According to Sainsbury, part of the problem was the venue’s location: It was in the wrong part of town. Unless the film had sufficient kind of clout to really attract people to go there, who was going to go to this grubby corner on Pentonville Road to see a movie? Unless the movie was an outstanding movie, nobody did. And the cinema quickly became really a financial problem for us and we bailed out of there fairly soon. I don’t think we were there for more than, maybe, six months at most.20 That said, there was a growing conviction that the success of the Latin American films and The Battle of Algiers, along with the attendance figures at their weekly Collegiate Theatre screenings, demonstrated TOC could attract the audiences when they had access to the ‘right kind’ of films. However, acquiring the distribution rights for such films was proving difficult without reliable and regular access to a suitable exhibition venue. But an additional problem was the fact that TOC also did not have the financial resources to purchase prints of, or distribution rights for, the kind of films they wanted. In those first two to three years of operating primarily as a distributor, the screenings they were able to organise had in fact – as highlighted above – frequently made a loss or barely broken even. Even though they had been loaned a flat by film director Peter Whitehead to use as an office, without an initial injection of capital beyond Finney’s and Plaschkes’ combined £350, the fledging organisation had been running up a deficit. Indeed, frequently TOC could only afford to pay partial wages, if at all, and Hart-Williams had even financed the initial publicity costs for the screenings at The Place from his own pocket. Although for the most part (and partly due to personal contacts with the filmmakers via their Council of Management) they had fortunately had film prints and rights simply given to them, this meant they had little control over which films they could take into distribution. This lack of financial resources also meant they had been unable to open at The Place with their own films, as they had hoped, but had had to programme films available from other distributors. When an advance payment of £600 had been requested for Robert Kramer’s Ice, Council of Management member Leslie Elliot had covered the cost. While acquiring their own full-time cinema had been identified as early as February 1970 as vital in terms of guaranteeing filmmakers a reliable exhibition outlet,21 it was now also identified as vital for TOC’s future survival. Only with their own cinema would they be able to acquire a regular supply of films that were capable of attracting the larger audiences, which would in turn generate the level of earned income that would give the organisation long-term 76

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financial stability.22 Again, even in 1970, there had been the recognition that unless they could acquire films for distribution that could ‘make a big noise’ and demonstrate some commercial viability, ‘TOC will sink’.23 In 1975 they appeared to have found an ideal venue for a cinema of their own: an empty concrete shell, newly built on the former site of the old Scala theatre in Charlotte Street, just off Tottenham Court Road in London’s West End, with planning permission for use as a cinema.24 The building needed completely fitting out, but offered the possibility of an entrance foyer at ground level, while at basement level it could accommodate a 400-seat cinema with both 35mm and 16mm projection facilities, a ‘club room’ – which could be used for discussion, seminars and additional 16mm, super 8 and video screenings – and a bar/refreshments area.25 Their vision for the building was to offer a central London venue where independent film-makers can have their work screened as a right – free of ‘commercial’ criteria and pressure; where they can regularly meet their audience and discuss their films and the issues raised by them. … Our aim now is … to build a ‘popular’ cinema which begins to relate to people’s needs to understand and change our society.26 They envisaged new work constituting a major part of the programme, with a commitment to filmmakers working outside the major production organisations and a desire to provide a home for British filmmakers in particular. Furthermore – in keeping with the original TOC concept – they hoped their approach to cinema exhibition would spread to other towns.27 Negotiations were conducted with the landlords, National Car Parks, and a rent of £192 per week agreed for the first three years, with an initial rent-free period.28 All that remained was to undertake the necessary fundraising to finance the venture. To persuade people to contribute, it was proposed that ‘[a] list would be drawn up of some of the films missing in this country as evidence for the necessity of TOC’s cinema’.29 TOC estimated a total of £50,000 was required: £30,000 to cover the capital costs of refitting the building, £10,000 to subsidise the first year of operation and £10,000 to invest in the acquisition of new films. Thereafter it was envisaged the cinema should be capable of sustaining itself financially. They published a fundraising prospectus in which they stressed the need to keep ticket prices as low as possible in order ‘to encourage the widest possible audience’,30 but projected that on 25 performances per week they could breakeven on 20.5 per cent of capacity each show or five full houses per week. This projection was based on the fact that their Collegiate Theatre screenings and the National Film Theatre averaged 60 per cent capacity.31 However, they anticipated public subsidy might be forthcoming after a first year of successful operation, which would then give ‘the added security with which to experiment, to broaden our programme, to keep ticket prices down and raise royalties to film-makers’.32 As donations started to come in during late 1975 and the early months of 1976, together with an offer of partial funding from the British Film Institute (BFI), a report by Nick Hart-Williams that highlighted some possible risks also stressed: 77

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[W]e wouldn’t be launching this venture if we were not confident – not only of the demand, and our own ability and experience – but that the figures made sense. Nor would the BFI and some 500 others have supported us so generously.33 The spring and summer months of 1976 were a frantic whirlwind of activity as fundraising continued. If they raised half of the £30,000 capital costs, the BFI had committed to match fund the other half – since it would give them ‘access to a central London screen where, among other things, it could open its own production Board films’.34 A Programme Coordinator was appointed, legal issues were ironed out, the lease was signed, building work commenced and plans made for the opening. On 15 October 1976, a year after fundraising had commenced, TOC opened its new cinema with Kevin Brownlow’s Winstanley (1975). Viability 2: Reality versus Vision However, despite all the preparations, the opening weekend proved a disappointment. While the cinema opening had received advertising and editorial coverage in the Guardian, the Evening Standard, The Observer, The Sunday Times, Time Out, What’s On and the Morning Star, together with items on radio and television, box-office takings and membership fees amounted to only half the weekly breakeven figure.35 After this shaky start, the cinema never managed to increase its box-office takings sufficiently to get its finances on an even keel, with the result that in December 1977, less than 18 months after opening its doors, the TOC cinema was forced to close amid an accumulating deficit. Although the BFI considered providing additional support, the scale of the deficit in the end militated against it.36 While poor box office – and thus low audience figures – was certainly a contributing factor, the project was also severely underfinanced. The fundraising target of £50,000 to cover start-up costs had seemed eminently achievable, and the expectation was that sufficient people involved in film and television would be willing to contribute to help bring about ‘a decisive change in the role of cinema’.37 However, fundraising proved far more difficult than had been anticipated, and in the end TOC managed to raise only £17,500. Yet, it is possible to argue that in 1976 – and given the tight timescale – this was in fact a considerable achievement, and as if in recognition of that the BFI increased its funding offer to match the figure. However, TOC had omitted to include the professional fees associated with the project in the original budget and – more seriously – discovered they had underestimated the building costs. Furthermore, they had also failed to anticipate the costs associated with fundraising, which had already reached over £6000 by March 1976. Although the gross total of funds raised was £35,000, the net amount was therefore significantly lower, while the cost of the project had risen. With none of the hoped-for funds available for print acquisition and subsidising the first year’s operation, TOC Exhibition was saddled with the considerable disadvantage of opening for business with a deficit. At the Council of Management meeting 78

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on the Monday following the opening weekend, staff and Council members were already discussing seeking deficit funding.38 The lack of funds to purchase distribution rights and prints was of course a historical one that had dogged TOC since is inception. In 1970 they had discussed setting up a ‘filmbuying fund’, using a model from theatre, whereby people would purchase up front a £50 unit share in a pool of films on the understanding that ‘investors’ would get their money back once the films had gone into profit.39 They envisaged needing to build up a fund of around £10,000 to enable them ‘to buy several films and have money in the kitty’.40 Although an imaginative approach to the problem – and indeed a similar model has been used to finance film production41 – it met with little success. While the situation had improved as their distribution income had continued to rise – reaching just over £31,000 in 1975 – TOC Distribution had also continued to carry a deficit which had rocketed the previous year to over £10,000. The BFI had bailed them out with a one-off grant, but TOC had also cut back on print acquisition to help reduce expenditure42 – something which was of course counterproductive since it undermined the very source of their income. However, by June 1976 – shortly before the cinema was due to open – the problem had become even more serious. Although the intention was that the cinema would offer a home to British filmmakers, there were concerns that there would not be enough British films coming through to sustain the new venue. If they were forced to shoulder subtitling costs in the course of foreignlanguage film acquisition, £10,000 – even if they were able to raise it – would not go very far. One Council member thought it might get them three foreign language films at most.43 As a result, they speculated about the possibility of having to pursue the ‘Themroc model’ – although a French film, Claude Faraldo’s Themroc (1973) has no dialogue, communicating its message entirely through images, and hence required no subtitling for exhibition outside its native country. A further complicating factor had arisen when the landlords insisted on a guarantee of five years rental. The final deal worked out with National Car Parks was an annual rental of £10,000 for the first three years and £15,000 per annum for years four and five, making a total of £60,000 over five years. Initially TOC tried to find 12 individuals who were willing to guarantee £1000 per annum for five years in order to meet the requirement. Although they had some success with this strategy, it also presented legal problems regarding how to cover the possible bankruptcy of one (or more) of the guarantors. In the end, TOC Distribution became the guarantor for the lease, something which – given its own financial history and limited resources – it wasn’t really in a position to do. That the project went ahead, when it was clearly underfinanced and beset with problems that TOC had no real way of solving, was due to a large extent to the lack of financial and management expertise in the organisation. Those involved had come to it out of a passion for the filmic medium and a desire to create a more diverse film culture, combined with a commitment to a left-wing political agenda, rather than being employed or elected for the business acumen they could bring to such a venture. In all fairness, even though no-one in the organisation understood how to analyse their financial information, they did realise 79

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they were underfinanced and, as the project progressed, identified the urgent need for ‘a suitably qualified person … to advise on financial matters’.44 However, when faced with the logical solution of programming the cinema with more commercial films to start with and refining the programming policies once the venture was on a firmer financial footing, TOC refused to give up the original concept – even if only temporarily. Indeed, one member of the Council of Management was moved to resign by November 1976 because the programming seemed to have become too focused on ‘radical cinema’ at the expense of trying to ‘operate on as commercially sound a footing as possible without major distortion of objectives’.45 However, it’s possible to argue that the refusal to compromise stemmed as much from the structure of the organisation as from an unerring commitment to its founding principles. Although staffing had expanded and the Council of Management reformed over the years, TOC had always operated on a collective basis. As a result, throughout the duration of the Charlotte Street cinema project, possible solutions to problems and varying viewpoints tended to be discussed endlessly at Council of Management meetings, but often without a conclusive outcome. And as the organisation undertook its expansion into full time theatrical exhibition, the number of meetings to discuss, vote on and implement policy in different areas proliferated. As early as June 1976, legal adviser Geoffrey Lander was moved to observe that TOC’s ‘ideal of collectivity held back its decision-making ability’.46 When the Greater London Arts Association (GLAA) conducted an assessment of TOC in spring 1977 on behalf of a funders’ working party, they came to a similar conclusion, arguing that the collective structure was in fact unsuited to the new cinema operation, afforded no clear lines of responsibility, and had resulted in poor administration.47 The ramifications of this lack of financial and management expertise started to be felt in June 1976, when TOC began to get into serious difficulties. Not only had the building costs for the cinema risen, but the cost of fundraising had doubled since March to over £12,000, a sum which had been borrowed from TOC Distribution. Although TOC Exhibition had managed to repay £4000, it still left Distribution with insufficient funds to cover the royalty payments to filmmakers which were due at the beginning of the month.48 If royalty payments were delayed for too long, Distribution risked jeopardising its reputation with filmmakers – the very source of films with which to supply the cinema. Moreover, concern was expressed that if those funds were put into ‘a venture that fails, we’ll have gambled away the filmmakers’ money’.49 The fact that Distribution was acting as the guarantor for the cinema lease complicated matters still further, since it meant that if Exhibition went under – now a real concern with the shortfall in fundraising – Distribution could be liquidated in order to meet the guarantee.50 By the end of the month, TOC were consulting with Geoffrey Lander on the cost of getting out of the Charlotte Street lease, and considering the possibility of facing staff lay-offs and liquidation in the autumn. However, despite TOC’s precarious position, two convictions remained: firstly, that the cinema venture could break even, and financial advice sought in early July agreed that ‘a cinema carrying the policies and character of The Other Cinema is viable’, but did also stress that ‘until this has become fact there is no statistical or historical basis to support such a 80

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claim’;51 and secondly, that the ‘lucrative West End release’ was essential to Distribution’s long-term viability.52 Furthermore, in considering their options TOC felt they had already gone beyond the point where they could realistically withdraw from the project. When they were discussing the cost of getting out of the lease in June 1976, Lander pointed out that since they had raised money to build a cinema, it would be very embarrassing to have to use it to pay off TOC’s ‘mistake’.53 By July it had been agreed that ‘we must proceed with the cinema: to preserve our credibility, because public money had been given for that purpose and to keep the distribution going’.54 Although they managed to open, fundraising remained a priority throughout 1977, and they also started to consider the possibility of developing new income streams by selling books and confectionery, as well as hiring out the cinema to other groups. However, they were repeatedly forced to examine where they could cut costs: staff accepted partial payment of wages as well as shorter hours, and various other options were discussed, including cutting down on printing costs by reducing the size of the programme leaflet and reducing repair bills by having staff learn how to do basic building maintenance. But this in turn only further highlighted the problem of being underfinanced: they had inadequate resources to function effectively. The Battle for Audiences Absolutely key to the cinema’s chances of success, however – of sustaining their access to a theatrical exhibition venue – was the ability to attract audiences, which depended in part on their programming policy. While the main auditorium was intended to facilitate TOC’s ‘lucrative’ West End releases – and hence contribute significantly to the cinema’s financial viability – their original ‘vision’ for the building had included a second smaller screening space, seating around 60, which would enable them to screen a far wider selection of films alongside their main theatrical releases. However, when this was discussed with the Greater London Council (GLC) early in 1976, it turned out to be ‘too complex and costly’ to meet the necessary planning regulations. The loss of this second exhibition space had the effect of bringing to the fore discussions about developing a programming policy for the cinema, and in particular deciding what film to open with. Although there was some concern that now ‘TOC would be forced to be commercial and would be hard pressed to put its ideas and aims into practice’,55 as indicated above they continually resisted this pressure. Instead, amid much debate they eventually developed, as Tony Kirkhope recalled, a mixed programming strategy: Our programming format was to open a first run feature each month usually – that would run at 9pm every night of the week. Earlier on weekday nights we would run other material, sometimes seasons, sometimes repping, sometimes historical material, and regularly once a week we screened work by a new, young British independent filmmaker. On early Saturday evenings we usually rented out the cinema at cost price to a campaigning organization that wanted to run a benefit of some kind; we would provide 81

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the cinema and staff, integrate it into the publicity and help to choose the appropriate film. On Sunday afternoon and early evenings we cleared a large space of time for a film plus event, including speakers and time for discussion.56 While some of their programme ideas were along more conventional lines – such as a retrospective of Eisenstein or a national cinema season – according to Paul Marris, who had been recruited as the Programme Coordinator, they also experimented with seasons that were themed around topics: So, for example, we did a season on ‘Women and Work: Waged and Unwaged’ and another built around Eric Hobsbawn’s book on social banditry which included Rosi’s Salvatore Giuliano, Spielberg’s Sugarland Express and some Robin Hood films.57 Although the ‘film plus event’ afternoons on Sundays (which often included live music) proved very popular, often selling out, as noted above the box office for the other parts of their programme was all too often disappointing. The mixed programming approach certainly enabled TOC to offer something different to conventional theatrical exhibition, but discussion within the organisation suggested that significant audiences failed to develop for that very reason. They felt people found the programming confusing: firstly because there were different films being screened at different times during the day, and secondly because the thematic programming was not registering sufficiently with audiences to work as a marketing device. Among the reasons suggested for the latter were that the themes were too abstract, that the themed seasons included too many films, and that people went to individual films rather than to engage with themes.58 However, it is possible to argue that it was not just the nature of the TOC’s programming policy that impacted on audience levels, but in some cases the very nature of the films themselves. One of the films by new British independent filmmakers showcased at TOC’s Charlotte Street cinema was Laura Mulvey and Peter Wollen’s Riddles of the Sphinx (1977), a 90-minute film financed by the BFI Production Board. Informed by an analysis of women in mainstream Hollywood film, Riddles experiments with film form to very consciously address the position of women in patriarchy: The film is constructed in three sections and 13 chapters, combining Mulvey’s own tocamera readings around the myth of Oedipus’s encounter with the Sphinx with a series of very slow 360 degree panning shots encompassing different environments, from the domestic to the professional. Louise, the narrative’s female protagonist, is represented through a fragmented use of imagery and dialogue, in an attempt to break down the conventional narrative structures of framing and filming used to objectify and fetishise women in mainstream cinema.… Riddles of the Sphinx attempts to construct a new relationship between the viewer and the female subject, presenting her through multiple female voices and viewpoints.59 82

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The film’s concerns were rooted partly in the political discourse that informed the modern independent film movement in the 1970s (see Introduction), and partly in the psychoanalytic film theory that was developing in the pages of the academic journal Screen. Although there was a recognised need to simply promote production, distribution and exhibition for ‘oppositional’ or ‘alternative’ voices, there was also a concern to interrogate the nature of traditional cinematic practice – in particular, to question its dominant mode of representation: realism. Peter Sainsbury has argued that, initially, that was why the films of Godard were so important to TOC: the effect of the films Godard made between 1967 and 1969 was ‘to throw open the questions of reality and representation, to knock realism on the head, and to give us a whole new spurt of energy’.60 According to Mulvey – who joined TOC’s Council of Management in the mid-1970s – for a significant number of people involved in the sector at the time there was an impassioned, if unrealistically utopian, belief that films like Riddles could ‘totally revolutionise the way in which film was understood by the masses at large’ and that audiences would gradually drift away from their local Odeon to their regional equivalent of The Other Cinema.61 TOC was thus not simply concerned to open up theatrical exhibition opportunities for ‘independent film-makers’, it was also crucially committed to the promotion of a range of ‘alternative’ filmmaking practices – which helps explain the organisation’s reluctance to revise or compromise on its programming strategy. To do so, in favour of a more commercially minded approach, would have significantly undermined its very raison d’être. At the time of its release at the TOC cinema, Riddles was featured on the cover of Time Out and benefited from an exceptionally positive review by Tony Rayns: The mixture of feminist politics and Freudian theory would be enough to make the film unusually interesting but various other elements make it actively compelling: the beautiful hypnotic score by Mike Ratledge, the tantalising blend of visual, aural and literary narration in the telling of the story and the firm intelligence that informs the film’s unique and seductive overall structure.62 Unsurprisingly therefore, when filmmaker and LFMC member Mike Leggett put together his first ‘Independent Filmmakers’ Tour of the South West’ in 1977 (see Chapter 4), he not only programmed Mulvey and her film as the tour’s opener, but quoted the Time Out review in the programme publicity.63 While this functioned very effectively to draw sizeable audiences of between 50 and 80 people for Mulvey’s film when she participated in the tour, she found that ‘two thirds of that audience would have left a third of the way through the movie’.64 The reality was that many people simply found the challenging nature of such films alienating. Indeed Mulvey concedes that even people within the independent film sector often found such films hard to engage with. And this difficulty of building audiences for theatrical releases of more politically, culturally and aesthetically challenging films was shared by other distributors.65 Although TOC’s London cinema gave access to a huge culturally active population, Simon Blanchard, the former national organiser of the 83

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Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA), has asserted that: ‘The audience for this work is a smallish, minority audience, and even in a big world city like London, where there’s a large minority, it’s still nevertheless a minority.’66 Felicity Sparrow, who co-founded Circles (see Chapter 4), has also argued that audiences are ‘very fickle’, especially in London where there are so many other demands on people’s leisure time to compete with. Although not all independent films were as challenging as Riddles, building cinema audiences was far more difficult than TOC had anticipated. But an area where audiences had grown quite rapidly for independent film – especially those dealing with issues of representation – was the emerging non-theatrical market that had contributed to the trebling of TOC’s distribution income in 1972 and its trebling again by 1975. As Tony Bloor of the IFA East Midlands observed in 1981, his experience of screening independent film had proved most successful precisely when it ‘operated as a polemical intervention into a constituency with particular interests outside of independent film’ (our italics).67 A significant ‘constituency’ that had started to emerge in the 1970s and develop into a tangible market for non-theatrical exhibition was the Women’s Movement. An analysis of how that market functioned – via Cinema of Women, a distributor catering specifically for it – helps demonstrate in turn the enormity of the challenge facing TOC in its attempt to develop cinema audiences for new kinds of work. Cinema of Women 1: Developing Audiences Cinema of Women (COW) was set up in 1979 by a collective of six women – Mandy Rose, Fern Presant, Audrey Summerhill, Caroline Spry, Melanie Chail and Maggie Sellers68 – who had been ‘shocked by the limited availability of good films made by women’.69 They also felt that women filmmakers should be able to exercise some control over where and how their films were exhibited. Without such control, it was possible for a feminist film to be screened in a context that ran contrary to the filmmaker’s intentions, especially if the film showed images of the female body.70 For instance, Bonnie Klein’s documentary about the porn industry and its treatment of women, Not A Love Story (Canada, 1981), was distributed in the UK by a commercial distributor and ended up being shown in ‘a Soho cinema as part of a raunchy double bill with Prostitutes’.71 In turn, such distributors could plough any profit made from a feminist film back into the acquisition of films that could be deemed to exploit or objectify women. In search of films for their embryonic organisation, four of the COW founders attended the 1979 Edinburgh Film Festival which – under the umbrella of its second ‘Feminism and Cinema’ event – screened over 30 films by women.72 COW were able to acquire several of the films screened, including: Jan Worth’s Taking A Part (UK, 1979) about prostitution; Cristina Perincioli’s feature film The Power of Men is the Patience of Women (West Germany, 1978) about a victim of domestic violence who seeks help via a women’s refuge; Michelle Citron’s experimental documentary-style Daughter Rite (USA, 1979) which explores 84

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mother/daughter relationships; and Sally Potter’s Thiller (UK, 1979) which deconstructs and examines the role of women in western narrative through the opera La Bohème. These films helped lay the basis for COW’s specialisation in feature films, issue-based shorts and feminist documentary work. Although developing theatrical exhibition for feminist films was a concern, COW more or less immediately benefited from the dramatic growth in women’s groups and initiatives precipitated by the Women’s Movement and the resulting non-theatrical market for films dealing with women’s issues. While Perincioli’s The Power of Men was booked for a handful of repertory cinema screenings, it was more extensively picked up for screening by women’s groups and women’s aid organisations.73 According to Eileen McNulty, who joined COW in the early 1980s, documentaries dealing with sexual harassment in the work place and films dealing with images of women were also ones that ‘really took off ’.74 The extent of the market for these kinds of films is evidenced in the customer feedback forms that COW sent out with all their film and video hires. These were completed by the hirer and returned with the film or video after the screening. It is very apparent from COW’s feedback forms that groups meeting around women’s issues spanned an incredibly wide spread of organisations and offered a potentially huge nontheatrical market for COW’s films. As might be expected there were a significant number of grassroots women’s groups hiring the work, but COW also hired out films to: nursery schools, youth clubs, schools, higher education institutions, local education authorities, adult education centres and university student unions; to health education councils, health centres, hospitals and mental health units; to social services departments, unemployment centres and probation offices; to trade unions, staff associations, local government training initiatives and equal opportunities units; as well as to local community centre, arts centres and film projects. A fair number of these organisations were based in London, but hirers were also located right across the country, from as far north as Shetland, Dundee, Edinburgh and Newcastle, through Lancaster, Leeds, Sheffield, Liverpool, Manchester, Nottingham, Leicester and Birmingham, as well as Norwich, Kings Lynn, Cambridge, Oxford, Winchester, Reading and Swindon, to as far south as Brighton, Portsmouth, Plymouth, Exeter, Penwith and Penzance. While on occasions individual audiences might only be 6–10 people, they frequently ranged between 20 and 40, and fairly regularly numbered between 50 and 80 or more. This suggests that the growing concern with women’s issues created a substantial readymade audience for the work that COW was distributing, and to a certain extent it did. Indeed, many of the comments suggest that COW’s films were meeting a very real need. One respondent noted ‘Good to see “ordinary” women/girls’ (Caxton House Youth Centre, London), while another felt COW’s films dealing with body image were ‘vitally important’ (Henley Youth Centre). With regard to a documentary about sexual harassment at work,75 one user stressed the film was ‘very relevant to our experience of working’ (ASTMS Trade Union Women’s Advisory Committee). And yet another said of a documentary about the effect of working conditions on women’s health:76 ‘very impressed – nothing else like it’ (Mental Health Film Council). 85

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However, other comments and feedback on audience responses conversely demonstrate some of the difficulties of building audiences for independent film, even when a sizeable audience appears to exist.77 After showing Here Comes the Bride (Frances Bowyer, Britain, 1982), a documentary about the image and reality of romance and marriage, one respondent complained: ‘It didn’t offer any alternatives to marriage – only talked about relationships in a heterosexual context’ (Women’s Officer, Newcastle University Students’ Union). Another hirer of the same film highlighted the fact that its focus on women from working class backgrounds made it ‘look as if only working class men beat their wives’ (Manchester Social Services). In connection with at least two films, respondents complained about the absence of any black women. For instance, with reference to It’s Not Your Imagination (WAVAG/Women in Focus, Canada, 1980), a documentary about sexual harassment at work, one respondent noted: ‘All the women interviewed are white … Racism [is] ignored as a concurrent problem to sexual harassment’ (Lewisham Women and Employment Project). With regard to films from Canada, Australia and Germany, respondents complained that the cultural specificity of the work made it difficult for British audiences to identify with. After screening The Power of Men, for instance, one respondent noted there were ‘some mutterings [among the audience] about the obvious affluence in Germany’ (Leicester Community College). In a number of instances, respondents were also youth workers who had screened work for groups of teenage girls and found that, while the issues were pertinent, the films featured older women and didn’t engage their younger audience. For the most part, however, the work was hired for educational, training or consciousnessraising purposes within the organisations. Hence there was no admission charge, and to a certain extent the films were being screened to a captive audience. But even if – given the institutional context – audience members were less likely or able to physically leave the screening (as had been Mulvey’s experience), they could nevertheless choose not to engage with the film or its issues. Thus, while at first glance it appears there was a ready-made audience for the work COW was distributing, both COW and the hirers – like TOC – were often faced with trying to draw audiences to films that were unfamiliar and persuade them to engage. On the evidence of the feedback forms, two key strategies for promoting audience engagement and helping develop audiences emerged. Firstly, time and again respondents requested contextualising information about the issues the films raised or about the films and the filmmakers themselves. This was particularly the case with the films from other countries, where the issues – such as sexual harassment and domestic violence – were clearly relevant but the film obviously contained no factual information about the UK. But it was also frequently the case with experimental work since – as Mulvey recalled – some audiences found it very challenging. Responses to Michelle Citron’s Daughter Rite (USA, 1978), for instance, included ‘found film boring, unconvincing’ (University of Kent at Canterbury Women’s Group) and ‘pretentious, unenlightening’ (Hanover Community Centre), while responses to Sally Potter’s Thriller included ‘confused’ (Middlesex Polytechnic, Goldsmiths Students Union). Sending out contextualising information with films or making it available 86

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at screening venues became common practice (see Chapter 4). Indeed, TOC Exhibition had also employed a related strategy by printing a four-page leaflet to accompany their film seasons. In 1977 when a scaled down version had been suggested to help cut costs, staff member Stephen Woolley argued against it because whenever he distributed the leaflet in the local pub he was ‘astonished with how many people sat down to read it in detail’78 and thus viewed it as an essential audience-building tool. Frequently, however, the film screenings were followed by discussions – the second strategy – which could in turn draw on any contextualising material provided by COW. Again, TOC had also identified the need to have post-screening discussions as a key element in their programming policy – talks and discussions were, for instance, programmed in conjunction with Riddles’ two-week run at the Charlotte Street cinema.79 But they had already initiated discussions with their Collegiate Theatre screenings, and it became a deciding factor in their choice of the Charlotte Street building. At the time The Gate cinema had also been a possible option for their own venue,80 but according to former TOC Council of Management member Andi Engel, it was turned down because there was no space ‘to hold proper discussions’.81 When COW hirers asked for information, they were often simply requests for discussion prompters to help facilitate such after-screening discussions. When hirers were able to plan and direct those discussions, they stressed that the films worked extremely well as a means of generating interesting and relevant debates. Thus, when the Cambridge Organisation of Labour Students screened It’s Not Your Imagination, despite the film’s focus on all-white subjects, the post-screening discussion facilitated an animated debate about ‘the broader issues of sexual politics and stereotyping’ and turned into ‘one of our most productive meetings concerning women’s issues’. When the film was screened by the East Midlands Women’s Rights Panel of NATFHE, their after-screening discussion resulted in them ‘commend[ing] this film for showing in all NATFHE branches’. Similarly, the film Selling of a Female Image (Carole Kostanich, 1977) – about the image of women in advertising and daytime television – had met with some complaints regarding its Australian focus and the fact that it appeared dated. But when one hirer showed it to a young female audience, the after-screening discussion had ‘started to make them think of how they are portrayed through the media’ (Erdington Community Centre). Discussion could also be particularly helpful in building audiences for the more experimental work, helping shift initial negative responses to a more productive understanding of issues raised by the films. And to help facilitate this kind of engagement, COW increasingly recommended hirers previewed films – a practice which became easier with video – as a means of preparing for after-screening discussions. Thus, even with the ready-made audience that the growing awareness of women’s issues appeared to offer and the more or less captive audience an institutional setting could provide, COW and their hirers still had to actively work at developing audiences for the films. However, with theatrical exhibition, although TOC had both supplied supporting information and instigated after-screening discussions, they were also faced with the 87

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challenge of firstly getting an audience to pay for the experience, secondly ensuring they stay for the duration and thirdly persuading them to participate in any after-screening discussion. Cinema of Women 2: Accessing a Theatrical Exhibition Circuit Despite the manifest challenges of building audiences for cinema releases, COW nevertheless felt that some independent films – as had in fact been TOC’s experience – were perfectly capable of attracting substantial audiences. Just as importantly, however, they felt it was ‘the only way to reach large numbers of women’.82 Although non-theatrical exhibition kept work circulating to significant – and valued – audiences, in terms of pure numbers groups of between 20 and 40 people across 30 or so bookings couldn’t match filling a 400-seat auditorium over several weeks. And theatrical exhibition could provide a means of accessing women who might enjoy feminist films, but might not participate in the women’s group circuit. Furthermore, they found – as TOC had – that a cinema release could raise awareness and also stimulate non-theatrical exhibition. As COW worker Penny Ashbrooke observed in 1986: ‘opening a feature film with national publicity makes people aware you’re there and wonder what else you do’.83 Rather than try to set up their own theatrical exhibition venue as TOC had done, however, COW instead utilised the few already existing independent cinemas in London to launch a small number of feminist feature films and also managed to access a regional exhibition circuit. COW, like the LFMC and indeed the above-mentioned Circles, had been set up as a voluntary collective with virtually no resources, working from one of the member’s homes. But by 1981 the institutional market discussed above had provided sufficient surplus income to rent a small office and employ a part-time worker – Jane Root – who helped develop the theatrical side of COW’s business. And later, unlike TOC in the 1970s, they were able to access revenue funding from the GLC which for a few crucial years gave them a greater degree of financial stability.84 Without the ongoing financial burden of their own cinema, COW were able to direct their energies and resources into releasing a modest, but nevertheless consistent, one to two features annually for several years. Their first theatrical release was Leontine Sagan’s Maidens in Uniform (Germany, 1931) which launched at the Hampstead Everyman cinema in 1981. They followed this with Marleen Gorris’ A Question of Silence (Netherlands, 1982) in 1983, which played three first-run London cinemas; Margarethe von Trotta’s The Second Awakening of Christa Klages (West Germany, 1979) again at the Hampstead Everyman, and Lizzie Borden’s Born in Flames (USA, 1983) at the Screen on the Green, both in 1984; Heiny Srour’s Leila and the Wolves (UK/Lebanon, 1984) at the Gate Notting Hill, and Sheila McLaughlin and Lynne Tillman’s Committed (USA, 1983) at the Screen at the Electric, both in 1985; and Pat Murphy’s Anne Devlin (Eire 1984) in 1986 at the Hampstead Everyman. Although COW was not operating its own cinema, like TOC they still had to find a way of financing acquisitions. In the late 1970s, however, both the Arts Council and the British 88

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Film Institute (BFI) had started offering subsidies to assist with this. COW’s print of Jan Worth’s Taking A Part (1979) had, for instance, been obtained via a distribution print award made to the filmmaker by the Arts Council’s Artists’ Films Sub-Committee. In negotiating the acquisition of The Power of Men, COW had originally suggested the filmmaker loan them her existing subtitled 16mm print and allow them to fund the cost of making a new print via the rental income generated from hires of the borrowed print. As the filmmaker felt this would take too long, COW approached Ian Christie at the BFI who, together with Nigel Algar – a former member of TOC’s Council of Management – worked in the Institute’s Film Availability Service. This department had begun helping distributors offset the financial risk of bringing less commercial and non-mainstream work into distribution by advancing ‘subsidy for prints and for the “strategic” introduction of new (or forgotten) work’, and by the beginning of the 1980s this initiative had become one of the cornerstones of the Institute’s film distribution assistance policy.85 Both the LFMC (see Chapter 4) in the 1970s and TOC in the 1980s86 also benefited from this initiative, which subsidised film distribution in two ways: One method is by offering the distributor an advance against Regional Film Theatre revenue; and the other is by offering (normally a smaller) advance towards a 16mm print, which is then recovered by taking a percentage of the return from each booking.87 Via the second method COW was able to access sufficient funding to cover 50 per cent of the print cost for The Power of Men, while the filmmaker agreed to fund the balance – to be similarly recouped from bookings before COW started taking their full royalty share. After this modest funding success, COW applied to the BFI scheme again to finance the acquisition of A Question of Silence as their first major cinema release, accessing the far larger sum of £6000 as an advance against receipts from screenings at the BFI’s Regional Film Theatres. Gorris’ first feature focuses on three women – a housewife, a secretary and a waitress – who meet for the first time while shopping in a boutique. When the male store manager accuses the housewife of shoplifting, the other two women come to her aid, and together they attack and murder the manager. Although narrative based, the film is shot in a non-realist style and offers an explicitly female perspective on how women experience oppression under patriarchy. While the male judiciary can only understand the women’s actions as a form of insanity, the women themselves experience their resulting bonding as a form of liberation from the oppressive nature of their previous existence and are declared perfectly sane by a court appointed female psychiatrist. On first viewing the film, COW felt that ‘its fresh combination of provocative politics and knowing humour about the everyday substance of women’s lives’ gave it the potential to reach a wider audience of women, beyond ‘the inevitably limited festival/women’s group circuit’.88 COW managed to launch the film with simultaneous month-long runs at Screen on the Green in Islington and the Paris Pullman in Kensington, and as a result the film was extensively reviewed in the national press. However, as Jane Root has already detailed 89

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elsewhere,89 COW did not anticipate the extent to which the then largely male film critics would pan the film. Although some, such as Geoff Brown in The Times90 and David Hughes in The Sunday Times,91 were not entirely damning – and seemed at least to grasp something of the film’s point – others were vitriolic in their condemnation. As Root notes, these ranged from Philip French in The Observer describing the film as ‘the unacceptable face of feminism … as rigid in its thinking as any hard-line Stalinist movie of 40 years ago’92 to Milton Shulman in The Standard declaring that the film’s resolution ‘is an argument that would have justified the Nazis exterminating the Jews, Herod’s slaughter of babies and the lynching of blacks’.93 According to Root, this impacted directly on the audience figures during the crucial first week of opening, which she asserts were so low that the film ‘looked in danger of sinking without trace’.94 For the most part box office receipts at both venues were well under 50 per cent capacity.95 In response COW mounted an extensive ‘rescue mission’ which involved mobilising feminist businesses, women’s newsletters and personal contacts, as well as distributing over 25,000 leaflets to help promote the film among its potential audience. The leaflets were handed out to women attending cinemas, theatres, political meetings, demonstrations and music events by members of the COW collective and their friends. McNulty recalled for instance handing out leaflets outside the Royal Court Theatre in south-west London because they reckoned it was the kind of place their potential audience would go.96 The overall effect of their combined campaigning efforts was to gradually increase audience numbers over the second and third weeks. While neither cinema was willing to extend the run beyond four weeks, the increased numbers enabled COW to get it transferred to the Gate Bloomsbury. For COW, this was absolutely crucial since keeping it in cinemas for as long as possible – i.e. sustaining audiences over a period of time – was the only way of ‘showing the viability of a feminist film to commercial cinemas’. Although audiences leveled off, they remained stable enough for the film to enjoy a further eight-week London run. In turn the film became a cause célèbre and COW regarded it as something of a victory for ‘woman power’.97 Nevertheless, despite this considerable achievement, independent cinemas often remained cautious with regard to programming feminist films. When COW became the British distributor for Anne Devlin they were keen to open it at Screen on the Green or Screen on the Hill. The film is set in Ireland during the Republican uprisings of 1798. In the history books Devlin has usually been remembered – if at all – as the faithful housekeeper of the Republican leader Robert Emmet. Based on Devlin’s prison journals, the film instead foregrounds her political commitment and personal strength, as demonstrated by her refusal to name her Republican companions whilst being subjected to interrogation and torture after being arrested. Although the film’s focus on a marginalised female figure is clearly informed by a feminist sensibility, it is also a historical costume drama and arguably had greater commercial potential than A Question of Silence. However, without their own cinema, COW were always in competition with films that cinema owners or programmers ‘consider to be more commercial, or “less difficult” films than the ones we distribute’. In negotiating with the company running the Screen cinemas for a slot in which to open 90

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Anne Devlin, COW found they were having to ‘convince Mainline that the film is more commercial than they choose to think it is’. As they had to explain to the film’s director, who was impatient for the British release to follow quickly on the heels of the film’s successful Irish opening, ‘[Mainline] are needing a lot of convincing, and indeed pushing’.98 In contrast to the four-week run COW had secured for Gorris’ film at Screen on the Green, Mainline were considering only a two-week run for Anne Devlin and in the end offered the Baker Street Screen, rather than the more desirable Green. In the event, however, COW were forced to shift the opening to the Hampstead Everyman – a repertory cinema – when Mainline enjoyed an unexpected box-office success with Letter to Brezhnev (Chris Barnard, UK, 1985) which looked likely to sit in the Baker Street cinema ‘for months to come’.99 Even though TOC’s Charlotte Street venture demonstrated the problems of running a cinema, as McNulty has observed: ‘It’s very difficult when you’re distributing if you don’t have your own cinema outlets’.100 Despite these difficulties, cinema releases could afford an extremely high level of exposure – as evidenced by TOC’s Battle of Algiers release and COW’s A Question of Silence – and could pay dividends in terms of accessing audiences. The level of visibility achieved by A Question of Silence through playing at three first-run London cinemas, for instance, meant that over the next two years the film was programmed by independent repertory cinemas in London and around the country on a fairly regular basis, in addition to its guaranteed screenings at the BFI’s Regional Film Theatres. Moreover, according to McNulty the film’s visibility had a direct and almost immediate impact on non-theatrical business: ‘word went around like wildfire about [A Question of Silence] and we had loads and loads of women’s groups and film societies in the country trying to get hold of it’.101 When a women’s group in Liverpool screened Gorris’ film and attracted an audience of 80, for instance, they reported: ‘In 3 years of screening women’s films in Liverpool this was our most successful screening, in terms of numbers attracted (our normal average is about 20–30!). It is clearly widely known among feminists as a great film’ (WITCH, Liverpool). Even though TOC’s Charlotte Street cinema suffered from poor box-office receipts and was open for little more than a year, the BFI nevertheless noted that: ‘The Other Cinema experiment … did at least demonstrate the existence of a substantial audience for programming based almost exclusively on independent – British and foreign – cinema.’102 Conversely, although The Power of Men was hired by women’s aid groups, without a cinema release it struggled on occasions to attract an audience. At the beginning of the 1980s, for instance, it was hired for a series of public screenings in Crewe, Sandbach and Alsager public libraries, Crewe and Alsager College of FE, Nantwich Civic Hall and Stoke Film Theatre to act specifically as publicity for a women’s refuge opening in Crewe. According to the feedback form respondent, ‘the film was enjoyed very much’ by those who saw it and generated very good post-screening discussions, but she reported that on average it attracted audiences of only about 15 people. The respondent stated: ‘We publicised these showings very widely, eg local radio, local newspapers, posters, individual invitations (eg council officials …) … Don’t see how we could have advertised more. What we did do took 91

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a lot of time and effort’. Even with such publicity, they still had one ‘disaster’ (as they put it) at Nantwich, where ‘the rival attraction in the same building was (would you believe it!) flower arranging and no-one came at all!!!’ A Neverending Task Despite the difficulties, TOC and COW undoubtedly helped create a more diverse film culture. But building the wider audience that would sustain it – that would fill a cinema night after night – was a monumental undertaking. Although as noted above the BFI felt TOC’s Charlotte Street cinema had demonstrated the existence of a substantial audience for independent film, by 1986 Vincent Porter was moved to observe in a BFI Exhibition Policy document that while the Institute could help support the circulation of films around the country – via, for instance, the initiatives undertaken by its Film Availability Service – ‘it is much harder to work at the task of building the kind of audience which will support a richer and more varied range of films than those which would otherwise find their way onto our screens’.103 Even the audiences generated for and by the cinema release of A Question of Silence could not be taken for granted, and building audiences for their films remained an ongoing and challenging task for COW. According to McNulty, this ‘was partly because the audience for these films never anticipated or expected to see that sort of film in the cinema’.104 Writing in 1985 about the distribution of Gorris’ film, Root had drawn attention to the fact that readership surveys carried out by the feminist magazine Spare Rib demonstrated that ‘feminists are not, in the main, in the habit of going to cinemas or even of thinking of it as a potential place to spend their time.’105 Hence, just as TOC found, although theatrical exhibition could stimulate non-theatrical business, non-theatrical interest didn’t necessarily create cinema audiences. As a result, COW found they always needed to supplement press coverage of their releases with their own intensive poster and leafleting campaigns, drawing on ‘hoards of volunteers’ as well as hitting the streets themselves. As McNulty observed, it required huge commitment – ‘it was our life really’ – which was ultimately difficult to sustain over the longer term.106 Similarly, from her experience of running the women’s distributor Circles, Felicity Sparrow learnt that she always ‘really had to work’ at building an audience for a film and frequently targeted women only venues, such as clubs, asking to put up posters: [I] worked out that the best place to put them was in the loo, because everyone goes to the loo at some point. And somehow, my whole social life revolved around going to these women’s clubs and doing other things like talking a lot – just to generate an audience.107 However, given that the films often had only very short theatrical runs, COW found that by the time awareness of a film had filtered through to a wider potential audience, it could well have already disappeared from the cinema. Whilst the promotional campaigns did function to draw audiences in, McNulty asserted: 92

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It took years to build up a kind of expectation amongst our potential audience that they might see a film of interest to them in a cinema. That became easier as more films like [A Question of Silence and Born in Flames] came to cinemas – the penny dropped and it clicked with the audience, but initially it was very difficult to get the audience in. It takes time to build up that kind of expectation and demand for it.108 It is possible to argue that TOC seriously underestimated the enormity of the challenge of building cinema audiences for new or unfamiliar work, but COW found success also had a downside. According to Root, as a result of COW’s success with A Question of Silence, Thorn-EMI bought the rights to Gorris’ more challenging second feature film, Broken Mirrors (Netherlands, 1984) for a sum COW couldn’t possibly match. At one level, provoking the interest of a multi-national corporation in feminist filmmaking could be considered a significant achievement. Yet, without the grassroots activism that COW employed to help build audiences, Root reported that the film ‘disappear[ed] from London cinemas with indecent haste, having failed to gain either general audiences or feminist support’.109 Although finding ways of financing print acquisition and accessing exhibition venues were of key importance to both TOC and COW, making the work available was only part of the challenge. Once available, ensuring it actually got watched and, importantly, engaged with was just as important. As the above case studies demonstrate, that was a resource intensive and long-term undertaking, and one that required extensive publicity, sustained exposure and accompanying audience development strategies. Notes    1. Anna Thew, in interview with Peter Thomas and Duncan Reekie, 29 June 2005.    2. See for instance Andi Engel, Artificial Eye, in interview with Peter Thomas, 1 November 2005. Indeed, as has been evident at the Power to the Pixel conferences (http://www.powertothepixel. com/), producers and filmmakers are also increasingly viewing theatrical releases as merely one possible platform among many (e.g. graphic novel, mobile phones, televisions, DVD, the internet etc) that can be utilised in ‘cross-media’ storytelling.    3. Unless otherwise stated, the history that follows of The Other Cinema’s beginnings and its very early years has been drawn largely from four main sources: Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 15 February 1970; ‘The Other Cinema: Report to the Council of Management, 16 December 1970’; a transcript of ‘The Other Cinema – A Short History, 1970–85’, an interview conducted by Sylvia Harvey in July 1985 with Peter Sainsbury, Paul Marris, Tony Kirkhope, Ann Lamont and Bridie Thompson, published in two parts in Screen, 26(6), November 1985 and Screen, 27(2), March 1986. Source: all courtesy of The Other Cinema. The fourth source is Peter Sainsbury, in interview with Peter Thomas, 9 December 2004.    4. Peter Sainsbury has broadly characterised them as ‘film oriented arts intellectuals’. Ibid.   5. Ibid.    6. ‘The Other Cinema: Report’, December 1970, op. cit., p. 3. 93

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  7. Ibid., p. 2.   8. Ibid.   9. Ibid.   10. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2004.   11. At the time, the term ‘Third World cinema’ was used to indicate the films’ origins in regions throughout Africa, Asia and Latin America. Hence the no. 3 issue of film journal Afterimage in 1971 was a special issue addressing so-called Third World Cinema. However, the pejorative associations of the term have resulted in the subsequent use of ‘Third Cinema’, which also more broadly delineates ‘any cinema which offers a radical challenge to entrenched Western notions of what the cinema is’. See Jim Pines and Paul Willemen (eds), Questions of Third Cinema (London: BFI, 1989), back cover.   12. ‘The Other Cinema: Report’, December 1970, op. cit., p. 2.   13. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2004.   14. Margaret Dickinson (ed.) Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI 1999), p. 43.   15. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2004.   16. Minutes of Council of Management Meeting, The Other Cinema, 6 November 1975: 2. Source: this and all subsequent TOC documents are courtesy of The Other Cinema, unless stated otherwise.   17. This is asserted in The Other Cinema, ‘Introduction’, fundraising prospectus, September 1975, p. 1. However, a specific example of sell-out performances is also given in the Council of Management meeting minutes, 2 February 1976: 2.   18. Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 8. Film being used in this way – to aid discussion around political issues – was not entirely without precedent, but the late 1960s started to witness a dramatic growth in such use.   19. ‘The Other Cinema: Report’, December 1970, op. cit., p. 5.   20. Sainsbury, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2004. An alternative story is published on the Contemporary Films website which asserts that the success of The Battle of Algiers demonstrated the building’s potential to its owners and as a result TOC lost its screening venue (see http:// www.contemporaryfilms.com/other/other_mid.htm). However, this story seems to be based on part of the text for the 1975 prospectus that TOC published when they were fundraising to finance the acquisition of their own cinema, when the imperative was to demonstrate that significant audience demand existed for the kinds of films they were distributing.   21. Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 15 February 1970: 2.   22. The late Andi Engel, who (with his wife Pam) had set up Politkino and was briefly involved with TOC, has similarly stressed the positive impact of securing the Camden Plaza cinema on acquiring films for his subsequent distribution company, Artificial Eye. Engel in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2005.   23. Minutes, The Other Cinema, February 1970, op. cit., p. 2.   24. Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 11. The site would in turn, as Margaret Dickinson has noted, become the first head office of Channel Four. Dickinson, 1999, op. cit., p. 43.  25. The Other Cinema, ‘The New Building’, op. cit., 1975, p. 7.   26. Ibid., ‘Introduction’, p. 1.   27. Ibid., ‘The New Building’, pp. 7–11.   28. Unless otherwise stated, the details of the period from February 1975 through to the closure of the cinema in December 1977 come from the Council of Management meeting minutes covering that period. 94

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  29. Minutes of the Council of Management Meeting, The Other Cinema, 9 September 1975: 2.  30. The Other Cinema, ‘The New Building’, 1975, op. cit., p. 11.   31. Ibid., ‘Attendance & Box Office’, p. 14.   32. Ibid., ‘Finance’, p. 16.   33. Nick Hart-Williams, The Other Cinema, ‘Guarantors for The Other Cinema’, undated: 1.   34. Paul Marris, in Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 12.   35. Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 18 October 1976: 2. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins761018.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   36. The TOC experiment with the Charlotte Street cinema did, however, help convince funders of the need for investment in cinemas for independent film, even if they were unable to guarantee long-term funding. Two years after the TOC cinema failed, the BFI drew up a report which stressed that ‘the Institute should move to ensure the continuation of a London exhibition centre for independent cinema’ and targeted support for the ICA’s cinema. See ‘A Report and Recommendations from the Working Party on Independent Exhibition by Ian Christie’, British Film Institute, 27 November 1979, p. 1. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 34).  37. The Other Cinema, ‘Introduction’, 1975, op. cit., p. 1.   38. Minutes, The Other Cinema, 18 October 1976, op. cit., p. 1.   39. Minutes, The Other Cinema, February 1970, op. cit., p. 2.  40. Ibid.   41. Recently it has become quite a popular way to fund low-budget digital productions, whereby the producers offer something in return for the financial donation – ranging from a mention in the credits through to various promotional materials, depending on the size of the donation. See Power to the Pixel conference, October 2008 (http://www.powertothepixel.com/).   42. Minutes of the Council of Management Meeting, The Other Cinema, 7 June 1976: 2. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins760607.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   43. Nigel Algar, Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 26 April 1976: 2.   44. ‘Suggested administrative structure for The Other Cinema’, undated notes from 1976–77: 1.  45. Nigel Algar, letter to Nick Hart-Williams, The Other Cinema, 22 November 1976. Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema.  46. Geoffrey Lander of Nabarro Nathanson, Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 29 June 1976: 2. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ TOCmins760629.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).  47. Assessment of The Other Cinema (Exhibition) Limited, 13 July 1977. The assessment was initiated by the Funders’ Working Party (GLC, Arts Council, LBA, GLAA and BFI) in December 1976 and conducted by GLAA’s Treasurer. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/16, TOC-Exhibition). Available at http://fvdistribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ellis-j770713.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   48. Minutes, The Other Cinema, 7 June 1976, op. cit., p. 1.   49. Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 13 July 1976: 2. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins760713.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   50. Indeed, the July 1977 GLAA assessment (op. cit.) argued that TOC had incorrectly identified one of the key problems as the physical separation of the Distribution and Exhibition offices: TOC argued that being based in one office had helped facilitate the collective management of the organisation in its early years. While a clear relationship existed between Distribution’s acquisition of films and the cinema’s exhibition of them, the assessors were adamant that the operation and financial basis of exhibition and distribution should be kept separate. 95

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  51. James Robertson, letter to the Council of The Other Cinema, 6 July 1976: 3. Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema.   52. Minutes, The Other Cinema, 7 June 1976, op. cit, p. 1.   53. Minutes, The Other Cinema, 29 June 1976, op. cit., p. 1.   54. Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 5 July 1976: 1. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins760705.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   55. Marc Karlin, reported in Minutes of the Council of Management meeting, The Other Cinema, 15 March 1976: 1.   56. Tony Kirkhope, in Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 13.   57. Paul Marris, in Harvey, ibid.   58. See Minutes of TOC Executive meeting, 27 July 1977: 1.   59. See Lucy Reynolds, Riddles of the Sphinx, at http://luxonline.org.uk/artists/laura_mulvey_and_ peter_wollen/riddles_of_the_sphinx.html (accessed 23 September 2009).   60. Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit. Indeed, as Sainsbury also relates in this interview, part of Godard’s British Sounds (1970) was shot at University of Essex where he was a student and was produced by Irving Teitelbaum, one of TOC’s founding Council of Management members.   61. Laura Mulvey, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 June 2003.  62. Quoted in the programme notes for ‘Independent Film and Independent Film-Makers in Exeter’, 3 October to 5 December 1977, organised by Mike Leggett. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 5).   63. The tour also included LFMC members Lis Rhodes, William Raban, Peter Gidal, and Steve Farrar, as well as Humphrey Trevelyan and James Scott of the Marxist oriented Berwick Street Collective.   64. Mulvey, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2003.   65. And, of course, it affects other areas of cinema as well. At the University of Salford’s Europe on Screen conference in June 2008, Mark Cosgrove of Bristol’s Watershed recalled his experience of virtually emptying a full 250-seat auditorium when he showed Wim Wenders’ Kings of the Road (West Germany, 1976) at his University student film society.   66. Simon Blanchard, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004.   67. Tony Bloor, ‘IFA East Midlands and Distribution’ report, May 1981: 3. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 5).   68. COW, Cinema of Women Films, Aims and Description, Meeting July 26, 1979. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Misc File).   69. Press Release for Lizzie Borden’s Born in Flames, undated. Source: Cinenova (COW films, A Question of Silence, correspondence).  70. ‘Women’s Film Now: An interview with two feminist film distributors, Felicity Sparrow of Circles and Eileen McNulty of Cinema of Women (COW), conducted by Jo Imeson’, Monthly Film Bulletin, 49(583), August 1982: 184.   71. ‘British Feminist Exhibition and Distribution: Three Statements’, in Charlotte Brunsdon (ed.) Films for Women (London: BFI, 1986), p. 225.  72. ‘Rendezvous D’Edinburgh: Helen MacKintosh and Mandy Merck report on the Festival’s “Feminism and Cinema” week’, Time Out 7–13 September 1979: 22–23.   73. ‘Bookings so far for P.O.M.’ Source: Cinenova (COW films, Power of Men File, early bookings).   74. Eileen McNulty, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 May 2004.  75. It’s Not Your Imagination (WAVAG/Women in Focus, Canada, 1980).  76. Bitter Wages (Audrey Droisen/Iriscope Productions Ltd, UK 1984).

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  77. Source: courtesy of Cinenova. The feedback forms that have survived span the period 1980–86 and cover a range of experimental, documentary and features films distributed by COW.   78. Minutes of TOC Executive meeting, 27 July 1977: 1–2.   79. Mulvey, in interview with Thomas, 2003.   80. Minutes, The Other Cinema, November 1975, op. cit., p. 2.   81. Engel, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2005.   82. Penny Ashbrooke, COW collective member, letter to Marie (Allod), 10 March 1983: 1. Source: Cinenova (COW films, A Question of Silence, press list). Ashbrooke reiterates this in ‘Infront: Women find a new voice in the cinema world’, Equality Now! No. 1 Autumn 1983, p. 17. Source: courtesy of Eileen McNulty. In this article Ashbrooke stresses COW wanted their films ‘to get to as many women as possible’.   83. ‘Breaking down the myths: feminist film distribution today’, Monthly Film Bulletin, 53(624) 1986: 4–5.   84. In the 1980s TOC were also able to access GLC funding to open another cinema, The Metro.   85. Ian Christie, ‘BFI Involvement in Distribution’, 10 April 1981: 1–2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987).   86. TOC were able to bring four Chantal Akerman feature films into distribution via BFI advances. See Christie, ibid., p. 2.   87. Ian Christie, letter to COW Films, 25 October 1979. Source: Cinenova (COW films, The Power of Men File).   88. Jane Root, ‘Distributing A Question of Silence – A Cautionary Tale’, in Charlotte Brunsdon (ed.), Films for Women (London: BFI, 1986), p. 214. Root’s article gives a detailed account of the marketing campaign for the film and discusses the ways in which this contributed to the media response to the film.   89. Ibid., pp. 213–22.  90. Geoff Brown, The Times, 18 February 1983. Source: Cinenova (COW Films, A Question of Silence, reviews). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/brown83.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).  91. David Hughes, The Sunday Times, 20 February 1983. Source: Cinenova (COW Films, A Question of Silence, reviews).  92. Philip French, The Observer, 20 February 1983, p. 30. Source: Cinenova (COW Films, A Question of Silence, reviews).  93. Milton Shulman, The Standard, 17 February 1983, p. 23. Source: Cinenova (COW Films, A Question of Silence, reviews).   94. Root, 1986, op. cit., p. 219.   95. See cinema receipt dockets. Source: Cinenova (COW films, A Question of Silence, loose).   96. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, op. cit., 2004.   97. Ashbrooke, letter to Marie, op. cit., 1983.   98. Eileen McNulty, letter to Pat Murphy (Aeon Films Ltd), 21 August 1985: 1. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Anne Devlin, Communications with Pat file).   99. Penny Ashbrooke, letter to Lesley Thornton, The Observer Magazine, 17 February 1986. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Anne Devlin, press screenings). 100. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, op. cit., 2004. 101. Ibid. 102. ‘A Report and Recommendations from the Working Party on Independent Exhibition by Ian Christie’, British Film Institute, 27 November 1979: 1–2. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 34). 97

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103. Vincent Porter, Acting Head of Distribution, BFI, ‘BFI Exhibition Policy: Films and Critical Concepts’, April 1986: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987). 104. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, op. cit., 2004. 105. Root, 1986, op. cit., pp. 220–21. Felicity Sparrow, co-founder of Circles, echoed this observation, asserting that feminists tended instead to go to live events. Sparrow, in interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003. 106. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, op. cit., 2004. 107. Sparrow, in interview with Thomas, op. cit., 2003. 108. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, op. cit., 2004. 109. Root, 1986, op. cit., p. 222.

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Chapter 3 Technology, Television and Seeking Wider Audiences: London Video Access/London Electronic Arts and Albany Video Distribution

A

s already discussed in Chapters 1 and 2, a persistent problem faced by the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, The Other Cinema and Cinema of Women was print scarcity. Prints were expensive to make and distributors were thus constantly looking for ways to finance the cost. Often they could afford to purchase only one print, or – as was frequently the case with the Co-op – filmmakers deposited their only copy with the distributor. However, having only one print limited the number of screenings it was physically possible to process and hence a distributor’s potential earning power. Furthermore, working with single prints of titles meant that a distributor’s business was very vulnerable to wear and tear on those prints. If damaged, a print would have to be withdrawn from distribution, resulting in a loss of bookings and income until it could be repaired or a replacement provided. Although – as noted in Chapter 2 – both the Arts Council and the British Film Institute had funding initiatives which could help with the cost of making distribution prints, funds were inevitably limited and could not cover the needs of all distributors and filmmakers. The London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) also had an additional problem. As discussed in Chapter 1, because the prints remained the property of the filmmakers who could borrow them at any time, the Distribution office found the catalogue inevitably listed films that were not actually in their possession.1 On occasions they had to contact filmmakers and ask them to drop their films off at the Co-op office to enable them to process bookings.2 This problem was exacerbated by the Arts Council’s Film-Makers On Tour scheme and touring packages, which frequently used LFMC’s prints and cut across their core business. As distribution worker Felicity Sparrow wrote to one filmmaker: Distribution is HECTICALLY BUSY right now; Arts Council arranging touring exhibitions (eg Brakhage retrospective) which cut across the normal bookings, made ages ago, and I’m having my time cut out trying to get films across the country at 12 hours notice.3 Despite the problems resulting from print scarcity, there was nevertheless a widespread and persistent desire to find wider audiences for the work being distributed by organisations like the LFMC, The Other Cinema, Cinema of Women and Circles. As video artist and cofounder of London Video Arts David Hall has commented: ‘It seemed to me that whatever you are doing you’re trying to communicate something, and you want to communicate as widely as possible.’4 Even in the face of the disruption caused to LFMC’s distribution operation by the Arts Council’s initiatives, Sparrow was moved to observe: ‘Still, the main 101

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thing is that the films get shown.’5 Not all work, however, is suited to the forms of theatrical exhibition discussed in Chapter 2. Artists’ moving image work, for instance – like that distributed by the LFMC and in part by Circles – has usually had to find different routes to its audience. Although views have differed as to the extent of potential audiences for such work, at the time there was a belief among a significant number of people working in the sector that ‘if presented properly, it could be accessible and interesting to a wider audience’.6 Indeed, audience information collected at the Arts Council’s 1977 show at the Hayward Gallery, ‘Perspectives on British Avant-Garde Film’ (see Chapter 1), had demonstrated that ‘the audience was far wider than had been expected’.7 For many, the prospect of getting such work to audiences that had never encountered it before was – and indeed still is – very exciting.8 In the early 1980s two possibilities emerged which appeared to make that far more possible by on the one hand overcoming the problem of print scarcity and on the other opening up new routes to the wider general public: the video cassette ‘revolution’ and the launch of a new national television channel, Channel 4. In particular both enabled home viewing, and thus not only opened up access to substantial audiences,9 but also offered the possibility of significant new income streams that could potentially reduce distributors’ dependency on public funding (see Chapter 1). Furthermore, by the beginning of the decade the traditional film society market had started to wane and the formal education sector was beginning to experience ‘declining financial resources’.10 Both these markets had been important sources of non-theatrical business for distributors like the LFMC and The Other Cinema (TOC), and their decline fuelled the need to find new ones. Through primarily a case study of London Video Arts – later renamed London Video Artists, then London Video Access, and eventually London Electronic Arts – but also covering Albany Video Distribution and other distribution initiatives, this chapter explores the enormous potential that video technology and a new television channel seemed to offer and their ability to help develop wider audiences. The chapter starts by looking back to the early 1970s as a key time in the development of video technology and runs through to the mid-1990s to cover the independent sector’s forays into video sell-through opened up by the domestic market, as well as the shifting interests of Channel 4. The Coming of a Video Distribution Service: London Video Arts (LVA) Video tape originated as an open reel-to-reel technology. Although domestically available from the mid-1960s and quickly picked up by artists as a creative production medium in the late 1960s and early 1970s,11 it was unwieldy and impractical as a distribution medium.12 Equipment to edit tapes was expensive, unreliable and not easily available, while making copies resulted in substantial deterioration of the image quality.13 Similarly playback equipment was not widely available, and according to community video activists John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins and Sue Hall, the only way early video work could be distributed was to 102

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‘play it back yourself ’.14 Nevertheless, as a production medium it gave them a far greater degree of flexibility than 16mm film and lent itself to their work. At the time, Hall and Hoppy were working with a community of squatters in North London, making tapes about the squatters’ objectives and tactics to achieve success. The new medium enabled them to film events and ‘screen’ them via playback on a monitor to the squatters the same day – and they would often do such ‘playbacks’ two or three times per week. For Hoppy this was at least an elementary if limited form of distribution and proved absolutely crucial in the squatters’ campaign: ‘[P]eople got arrested and charged by the police, so if you had a videotape of the event, people could look at it again and again to get their stories absolutely watertight. Then, when it was brought to court, they could completely demolish the police’s case’.15 However, in 1971 Sony launched the first video cassette system, based on the ¾ inch u-matic cassette and aimed at the professional broadcast market, while in 1972 Philips introduced the first video cassette recorder aimed at the domestic market. Although u-matic video did not become widely available in the UK for several years and the Philips system was relatively short lived,16 the potential that the video cassette offered as a distribution medium was considerable. In contrast to 16mm projectors which required a degree of expertise to thread correctly and avoid damaging the film, video cassette systems were far easier to operate and required no specialist training. Moreover, since video could deliver the image to a monitor, it had no need for black-out curtains, could be ‘screened’ virtually anywhere, and allowed very easy repeat viewing and freeze frame analysis, making it far more adaptable to users’ needs. But perhaps most significantly, with u-matic it was possible to make an acceptable copy from a master tape, making it far easier and cheaper to make video copies than additional film prints. Video was not necessarily suitable for all exhibition situations – while Sue Hall recalled at times having up to 70 or 80 people crowded round a 20 inch monitor, she conceded that was probably the maximum capacity for one monitor.17 Nor was it acceptable to all filmmakers – even with the advent of video projectors (which like celluloid, did require black-out), due to its inferior image resolution video was very much considered the poor relation to film. Indeed, initially video artists had to repeatedly argue the case for recognising it as a creative medium in its own right, with its own distinct qualities. Nevertheless, as a moving image distribution medium video cassette technology had the very significant potential to remove a distributor’s frequent dependency on a single 16mm print to service all screenings as well as the threatened loss of income in the event of its damage. Furthermore, the increasing volume and range of material being originated on videotape by the mid-1970s also suggested the need for a video-specific distributor. Although a handful of UK events and shows had included video work as early as the late 1960s – including the 1969 Camden Arts Festival, with a video event organised by Hoppy – it was the staging of ‘The Video Show’ at London’s Serpentine Gallery in May 1975 that revealed the extent of the video work that had started to take place. Indeed, the rationale for the show was precisely to find out who was working with the medium and what kind of work was being produced. Thus an open call for submissions was circulated in the UK, while a range of 103

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overseas producers were invited to make submissions, and according to David Hall, who was on the show’s organising committee,18 they were ‘inundated with all sorts of stuff ’.19 Designed to be as comprehensive as possible, the show featured an international selection of installations, performances, live events and single screen work, covering both artists’ and political/community video work. Just as Bristol’s ‘First Festival of British Independent Film’ earlier in the year had provided the first opportunity to take stock of the range of filmmaking activity (see Chapter 1), for many UK artists working with video ‘The Video Show’ was the first time they met and saw each other’s work. According to LVA co-founder David Critchley, ‘it was a revelation’,20 and spurred several of them to start discussing ways of developing this area of creative practice. In June 1975, immediately after ‘The Video Show’, Stephen Partridge, Anna Ridley and David Hall circulated a letter trying to gauge interest in the idea of setting up a newsletter or journal, but also identifying a need for: •  Dialogue between interested parties •  Tape distribution •  The setting up of workshop facilities independent of the present institutions •  The regular organising and setting up of public showings of tapes, performances and installations.21 As u-matic technology started to become more available in the UK the following year,22 the idea of a video distribution service became more viable.23 By the summer of 1976 Hall and Partridge, together with fellow artists David Critchley, Pete Livingstone, Roger Barnard, Tamara Krikorian and Jon Turpie, had set up London Video Arts (LVA) and acquired a small library of tapes.24 In December, using the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) as a model, LVA submitted an application to the Arts Council detailing the funding required for a tape distribution service, an exhibition venue and a production workshop. As they realised they were unlikely to get the full £33,565 they had budgeted for all three areas, they argued that the distribution service and exhibition venue could initially share equipment, and suggested that part of their application be prioritised. In support of their case they stressed that the emerging video art activity had now reached a level that would benefit from an organisational focal point.25 While the Artists’ Films Committee (AFC) was largely sympathetic to LVA’s aims, it nevertheless took some 10 months, several meetings and numerous exchanges of letters to actually process an award of a relatively modest £3500 – to fund the production of a distribution catalogue and the provision of some equipment. Just as the Arts Council had struggled to find ways of supporting the ‘new activities’ being undertaken by the LFMC, the Drury Lane Arts Lab and IRAT in the late 1960s (see Chapter 1), they and other funders – including the British Film Institute, the Greater London Arts Association and the Greater London Council – were now grappling with how to fund the new video activity. Not only had the diversity of activity become more apparent, but the funders were beginning 104

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to receive applications for resources to support it.26 To assist, a number of studies were initiated, including one by Sue Hall and Hoppy specifically addressing ‘Future Videotape Distribution’.27 Funded by the Arts Council’s Research Department in 1976, on the joint recommendation of the AFC and the Community Arts Panel, Hall and Hoppy delivered their report in May 1977, just as discussions between the AFC and LVA were in full swing. Their research demonstrated that, while a significant number of video practitioners and exhibitors felt some form of video distribution service was required and several organisations – including LVA, TOC and Hall and Hoppy’s own organisation, Fantasy Factory – had expressed interest in providing such a service, nothing satisfactory was yet in place. Thus, for the AFC, a lot was resting on any decision they took regarding the funding of LVA,28 especially as that decision would also set a precedent.29 There was a particular concern not to duplicate funding effort,30 and a key issue that emerged was whether user needs would be better served by following the film model of funding specialist areas of activity (as with the LFMC for experimental film) or funding a centralised resource to offer open access to all non-commercial users. Hall and Hoppy favoured the latter, and their report recommended setting up a single national mail order hire service (to be administered by Concord Film Council) and a national dubbing centre (at Fantasy Factory) to provide non-commercial producers with distribution copies of their work. LVA, however, saw no reason why video should be organised any differently to film and had in fact presented themselves in their application as the video equivalent of the LFMC, stressing they were the only organisation in the UK concerned with ‘video works essentially of an independent experimental/aesthetic nature’.31 Hoppy and Hall’s interest in helping pioneer video distribution in fact waned relatively quickly, leaving the Arts Council keen to ensure that any financial support they offered LVA ‘would benefit the maximum number of people’.32 In the end LVA reassured the AFC that their distribution library would operate the same open access policy as the LFMC, accepting any tapes offered to them for distribution, with ‘no discrimination against community tapes’.33 In turn, while the funding for LVA’s catalogue was awarded directly to them, the AFC used the remaining allocated funding to purchase the necessary equipment themselves and made it available on longterm loan to LVA in order to avoid any ongoing commitment to the organisation.34 Although distribution had been taking place on a small-scale during 1977 – generating a very modest £131 from tape hires35 – 1978 was LVA’s first year of formalised activity, with the launch of their AFC-funded catalogue, an office established in Little Newport Street and an inaugural screening event at the AIR Gallery. Over the next couple of years, the distribution business grew quite dramatically, generating an income of £3213 in 1979–80,36 while they also embarked on an ambitious exhibition programme, regularly staging shows at both London’s AIR and Acme galleries. Despite their initial reservations, in March 1979 the Arts Council made a further capital funding award, this time direct to LVA, for the purchase of additional equipment,37 and also began offering annual exhibition funding. Ironically, however, while LVA did not suffer the print scarcity problems encountered by LFMC and other film distributors, both their distribution and exhibition activity was 105

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initially limited by a scarcity of u-matic equipment. So much so in fact that the issue of making additional distribution copies did not really arise. Both galleries and colleges were becoming interested in showing video work – and quickly formed LVA’s main markets – but, while such organisations would usually possess a 16mm projector, even by 1980 their access to u-matic playback equipment could not be assumed.38 Hence LVA not only used their equipment to service their own needs, but also hired it out to other groups and could not always meet demand.39 As late as 1982 LVA grabbed the opportunity to bulk purchase 64 heavily discounted ex-demonstration u-matic players partly to help alleviate this problem. Although they retained a small number for themselves, the still relatively limited availability of u-matic decks made it possible for LVA to sell the remainder on and in the process extend the potential market for their tapes.40 By late 1983, as funding and equipment for video activity started to become more available, LVA were able to report that they had around 500 tapes by 180 producers in the distribution library and had processed approximately 1000 hires since 1977.41 While they continued to arrange their own London exhibition programmes and supply tapes to the education market, by the following year they reported they had also contributed to over 60 shows since 1978, at numerous venues both in Britain and overseas, including the USA, Poland, Italy, Germany, Holland, Norway, Japan, Belgium, Spain, France and Yugoslavia.42 Yet, although LVA had managed to establish a video distribution service and film distributors like TOC and Cinema of Women (COW) had also started doing video hires by the early 1980s, the professional u-matic technology limited the possible markets and outlets. It was only with the massive take-off of the domestic video market – the video cassette ‘revolution’ – in the early to mid-1980s that the full potential of video as a distribution medium became evident. Increasing Availability and Access The Philips domestic video cassette recorder (VCR) was used fairly extensively in schools, achieved some penetration of the domestic market,43 and had given rise to predictions that within a couple of years ‘we’d all be buying or hiring our favourite films and programmes for viewing on home monitors’.44 However, the prediction proved premature. Instead it was the later Sony Betamax and JVC VHS systems – launched in 1975 and 1976 respectively – that proved popular with domestic users and ushered in the video cassette ‘revolution’. Although both used ½ inch tape, the systems were incompatible and the two manufacturers embarked on a format war, with the VHS system starting to gain market dominance by the early 1980s45 and – for the wider public at least – rapidly becoming synonymous with the term ‘video’.46 By the mid-1980s the UK was reported as witnessing ‘the fastest growth in VCR sales and rental in Europe’,47 having soared from 2.5 per cent penetration into households in December 1980 to 35 per cent by 1985.48 Although the videotape rental market developed first, within a few years it was followed by a substantial retail – or sell-through – market. By the late 1980s VCR penetration had risen to 51 per cent49 and the UK market was reported as being worth £300 106

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million a year.50 According to Julian Petley it was estimated ‘that 7 million videos a week are now rented, that 30 million will have been bought in 1989, and that the industry as a whole enjoys an annual turnover of some £1 billion in terms of tape rentals and sales’.51 As soon as this home video market started to take off, there was a widespread and persistent belief that it would make possible the delivery of a wider range of moving image material to a far wider audience. As early as 1982, the British Film Institute (BFI) were speculating that a home video cassette label, ‘if mounted with flair, could bring the Institute into contact with a wider audience than it can currently engage either through non-theatrical distribution or its existing cinemas’.52 The following year a number of independent film and video organisations jointly commissioned research into the distribution of independent and community video.53 The resulting study – written up as The Videoactive Report and published in 1985 – observed that: ‘people are much more aware of the way they can use video, whether that is for recreation, education, or campaigning. Video cassettes are easy to use, they are available quickly and cheaply, and their use is increasingly centred around individual consumer decisions.’54 The authors argued that this flexibility and the growing willingness on the part of the general public to use video would result in a greater diversity of material being disseminated on tape. The Greater London Council (GLC) and its investment wing, the Greater London Enterprise Board (GLEB), also identified this potential, as did what had become the Independent Film- and Video-Makers’ Association (IFVA); and in 1985 GLEB prioritised developing a coherent strategy for maximising the video distribution of independent work as part of its support for the cultural industries in the region,55 while the IFVA developed its own initiative to help independent producers actively market their work.56 And in 1990, when the BFI finally launched its home video label Connoisseur Video, the speech drafted for BFI Chairman Sir Richard Attenborough stressed that ‘we would be failing in our duty if we did not take note of the great opportunities that home-video offers to bring a greater range of films than any other delivery system can to the discerning viewer’.57 Thus, the advent of home video appeared to open up an unprecedented possibility for small independent distributors like TOC, COW and LVA to access wider audiences. LVA and others had in fact been experimenting with the video medium to develop wider and in some cases more general audiences for independent video work as early as the late 1970s. In 1976 Brian Hoey and Wendy Brown had launched an annual event, ‘Artists Video – An Alternative Use of the Medium’, at The Galleries shopping centre in the north-east England town of Washington. Screening work by several UK artists, it was an attempt to bring a slice of the emerging video art scene to the local residents, and Hoey reported that the visitors ‘were genuinely interested in seeing what was going on outside of, what was then, a small mining community undergoing tremendous social change’.58 In 1980, LVA had mounted a two-day ‘open access’ show at London’s Acme Gallery, making a selection of tapes available for viewing upon request, free of charge, by members of the public visiting the gallery. They were pleasantly encouraged by the results, reporting:

107

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Viewing on Monday was 45 persons with 22 Artists work shown; Viewing on Tuesday was 72 persons with 18 Artists work shown. The tapes were played at least once, some played up to four times. This in fact exceeded our expectations and, as a large and varied selection of tapes were viewed and the interest was lively, we felt that the show was very positive and successful.59 Indeed the flexibility and user-friendly nature of the video cassette lent itself to this kind of public access initiative, and temporary open access ‘libraries’ became a regular feature at video events such as that launched by Hoey and Brown.60 In 1981, London’s ICA initiated the next logical step by announcing plans to set up a permanent video access library for ‘video concerned with the arts’.61 It was intended to act as a showcase for the work, with tapes available for in-house viewing. The Arts Council was keen to support such an initiative since it made the work available ‘on demand’, overcoming the restrictions of performance schedules which they felt required ‘a high level of committed interest from the audience and set up a “theatrical” expectation not always appropriate to the scale of the work’.62 As Arts Council Film Officer Rodney Wilson observed, a video access library (VAL) was comparable to ‘a book reference library, where the public has choice and an appropriate context in which to study’.63 When the ICA wished to include copies of LVA’s tapes,64 it gave rise to some concerns about the proposed scheme – not least the terms offered to the artists invited to participate. But when it became known there were proposals for further VALs, LVA became particularly concerned that a network of such libraries around the country would undercut their own distribution business.65 In response LVA quickly brokered a deal with the VALs which both raised acquisition costs and limited the libraries’ exhibition licences to groups of four or less.66 However, in the end, although they were quite well used67 – and also included work from locally based independent producers – limited availability of funding also meant that only a small number were set up.68 By 1985, in addition to the one at the ICA, only a further three had been opened: by the Midland Group in Nottingham, at the Tyneside Cinema in Newcastle and at the Arnolfini in Bristol.69 LVA continued its own experiments to develop audiences by launching a compilation of ‘video music work’ by various artists in 1982.70 This was partly an attempt to capitalise on the growing public interest in music video, but was also an experiment in trying to find an effective way of distributing the short visual music pieces that a number of video artists were making in the early 1980s.71 These were typically only two or three minutes in length and thus both difficult to promote individually and expensive for a user to hire. However, as the compilation was only distributed on u-matic, at the time this necessarily limited the scope of the possible market. Around the same time Albany Video, a community video workshop based in South East London, had also started to operate a video distribution service after developing national audiences for some of its issue-based community material.72 Originally set up in the 1970s, Albany Video had engaged in video activism, working with local communities to campaign round various socio-political concerns. Like Hoppy and Sue Hall they had originally 108

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distributed their tapes by using their own equipment to do ‘playbacks’, but found that some of their tapes attracted interest beyond their local community origins. With the advent of video-cassette technology they found it became more possible to circulate the material to a much wider audience. The first to receive wider distribution – achieving national as opposed to purely local exposure – was a video about the National Front march through Lewisham in August 1977 – the so-called Battle of Lewisham – made in conjunction with the All Lewisham Campaign Against Racism and Fascism (ALCARAF). This was soon followed by Us Girls (1979), which featured five working class girls talking about what it means to be brought up a ‘girl’. Although it was based on a play originated by the locally based Albany Youth Theatre, it was sent out with specially commissioned teaching notes and found a large national audience among youth workers and youth groups. Because Albany Video had an editing system available for use by others they also often sent out copies of other producers’ tapes on an informal basis. By the early 1980s they had to take on a worker73 to organise what had gradually become an informal and somewhat haphazard distribution service. Although the distribution operation remained small-scale, like others, Albany Video could see the potential offered by the VHS ‘revolution’ and had played a key role in initiating the research that resulted in the above-mentioned Videoactive report. While most film distributors had moved into VHS distribution – quickly developing institutional sales alongside hires – one of the key findings of the report had been the potential to significantly expand the use of independently produced video material in the institutional sector. Based on a fairly representative cross-section of independent film and video distributors and production workshops, they found for instance that most titles were selling an average of only five VHS copies per year. In a few instances where the tape had a clearly targeted audience, that figure rose to 50–60 and very exceptionally to over 100. In an attempt to develop the market for their own and other independent producers’ work Albany Video recruited former LFMC distribution worker and Circles co-founder Felicity Sparrow to seek out more material and compile a catalogue. Formally launched in 1985, Albany Video Distribution specialised in tapes dealing with equal opportunities issues such as racism, disability, youth, sexuality and health, and distributed primarily to racial equality units, health education authorities, social services and housing departments, as well as the formal education sector. Trying the Home Market However, as the domestic video boom started to take off, interest also developed in the idea of establishing public lending libraries of independently produced tapes, opening up the possibility of home viewing. During the 1980s, in a single year, Circles received enquiries from the West Glamorgan Video and Film Workshop, Youth Clubs UK and even the State Film Centre of Victoria in Australia74 about the possibility of acquiring tapes to include in or help set up their own video lending libraries aimed at developing wider audiences. 109

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As the West Glamorgan group noted: ‘The aim … is to get more independent/grant-aided sector work watched by more audiences in our area.’75 Indeed, relatively early on the public library service had been identified as having huge potential for increasing the availability of independent work, not least because it offered a pre-existing infrastructure of outlets. By 1982, at least 25 library authorities in the UK had established a video loan service, while another 59 had plans for such a service or were actively considering it.76 Indeed, a couple of years later the Arts Council were also in the process of setting up a fifth VAL at Southend public library because they felt it would ‘provide access to a different section of the public’.77 Although most public libraries included some independently produced material in their collections, they found this work was not well borrowed and had to stock a majority of conventional feature films to meet audience demand. But in the longer term libraries found they could not afford to update their collections frequently and hence could not compete with the high-street video rental shops. This created a trend towards stocking more non-fiction and educational titles in an attempt to ‘provide a different service and to supply material not available elsewhere’.78 Sheffield in particular were committed to buying work from local producers, but still found the take-up of campaign tapes and other local/independent work disappointing. As the Videoactive authors reported: ‘Distribution of radical and campaign material from shelves dominated by entertainment films was proving a problem. It was felt [by Sheffield] that it may have been unrealistic to expect that people would borrow such material for home viewing.’79 At the time the Videoactive study was being conducted, The Other Cinema (TOC) was also piloting a video loan scheme via radical bookshops in London, Leicester, Liverpool and Edinburgh. The shops were supplied with a dozen TOC titles – features and documentaries – which were to be hired for domestic viewing only. In an attempt to try and build up audiences for a more diverse range of material, TOC had not allowed shop staff to exchange documentary titles for more feature films which they thought more likely to be hired. However, not as many bookshops took part as had been hoped and the number of loans was low. According to Blackthorn Books in Leicester: ‘the most popular titles were feature films such as Battle of Algiers but even that only went out four times in several months. Most of the documentaries went out once or twice, if at all.’80 After nine months the scheme was wound up due to the low take-up. There had also been attempts elsewhere to set up postal video loan services, which in some cases had included documentary and campaign material, but for the most part these too proved unviable due to a lack of take up.81 While the various initiatives and schemes discussed above certainly increased the availability of and access to artists’ and independent video work, in terms of substantially extending audiences for non-mainstream material they met with fairly limited success. Thus some of the general optimism surrounding the potential of the video cassette ‘revolution’ seemed largely unfounded and in some cases bore little relation to the grass-roots experience. Yet, as the retail market for home video started to develop, there were a handful of mail order initiatives which suggested that some areas of ‘alternative’ moving image work might be able to develop modest domestic audiences by catering to particular niche markets. While the 110

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Greater London Enterprise Board (GLEB) continued to stress the importance and potential of making work available for loan through public libraries and other outlets,82 these mail order initiatives started out as small-scale experiments that sought to sell the work direct to the home viewer. In the early 1980s, for instance, John Bentham and a couple of friends started making videos of punk band gigs. According to Bentham, ‘People were telling us that Punks didn’t have the money to buy videos and we wouldn’t sell any’,83 but they placed an advert in the music paper Sounds and within a week they had five orders. From this small start they set up the Jettisoundz video label and within the space of two to three years it grew quite rapidly. When a subsequent foray into cable television led to contacts in experimental film circles, Jettisoundz got the opportunity to acquire video distribution rights for Kenneth Anger’s films and some of Derek Jarman’s work. The success of that venture convinced Bentham that there was a similar market for experimental moving image work: ‘I soon realised that experimental and more cult orientated film work was a natural evolution of the niche situation that was our label.’84 He approached the British Film Institute with a list of films that he wanted to license for video release, only to discover that the Institute was planning to launch their Connoisseur label which would eventually include such avant-garde ‘classics’ as Hans Richter’s Dreams That Money Can Buy (USA, 1946) and Robert Siodmak/Edward Ulmer’s People on Sunday (Germany, 1929), as well as more contemporary work. Rather than pursue his original idea, Bentham became Connoisseur’s distributor. In the mid-1980s video artist George Barber also undertook a DIY distribution initiative. Disenchanted with traditional art spaces, he was interested in looking for other ways of getting his work to audiences. One of the UK pioneers of scratch video, Barber put together the Greatest Hits of Scratch Video volumes 1 and 2 and sent out review copies to publications like The Face, 19 and women’s magazines. He has argued that because it was called Scratch – not video art – and because there was widespread interest in the growing hip-hop music scene, it generated a lot of interest. According to Barber, ‘for about a year and a half, there was always somebody prepared to run it’ and it was even reviewed in The Sunday Times. He received orders from as far away as Japan and Australia, and from memory estimates he sent out around 800 copies at a sale price of £12.95 until the market for Scratch died out.85 A couple of years later Albany Video Distribution (AVD) identified another possible niche market. In the course of building up their library they had became known for distributing – among other things – lesbian and gay material. In the late 1980s when a group of American women were trying to find a UK distributor for their innovative lesbian soap opera, Two in Twenty (1988–89), they therefore approached AVD. Although AVD had previously dealt only with the institutional market, they were quick to see how Two in Twenty – which came complete with its own lesbian orientated commercial breaks – could appeal to a domestic audience. Like Barber, they sent out review copies to appropriate publications, but also undertook some direct mail marketing and repertory screenings to publicise the tapes. Because the five-episode soap was packaged into three VHS cassettes, AVD priced the complete package at £60 initially, later reducing it to £40 to try and expand 111

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the market. Even at what was then a fairly high price for the domestic consumer, AVD sold around 400–500 copies. While the number of sales – and hence the audiences – were still not huge, the quantities being shifted did at least compare favourably with the level of video sales being achieved via the institutional market for most ‘alternative’ moving image work. However, it’s possible to argue that the potential of VHS as a distribution medium for independently produced work had in fact become most apparent with the Miners’ Campaign Tapes. Made during the 1984–85 miners’ strike, the six short tapes were produced via a collaboration between a number of independent film/video workshops around the country and the National Union of Miners (NUM). Although not particularly targeted at the home market, the tapes were specifically intended to reach as wide an audience as possible. On the one hand, given the awareness built up by the Glasgow University Media Group’s research of the partiality of television news (see Introduction), this was in order to counter the misrepresentation of the strike by the mass media and the National Coal Board. On the other, it was also intended to help build support for the miners and boost morale. The project organisers utilised the NUM’s existing network of members and links with other unions/groups to help publicise and distribute the tapes. They were launched nationally at the prestigious British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) with the support of the Association of Cinematograph Television and allied Technicians (ACTT). Additional regional launches also took place, with the National Union of Journalists printing thousands of leaflets and posters, while the film/video workshops involved promoted and distributed the tapes regionally, and the NUM utilised their own paper, The Miner, to provide additional publicity. Because the tapes, packaged into three cassettes, were distributed from multiple regional centres and many were given away free, it is difficult to establish accurately how many circulated. But it has been estimated that somewhere between four and five thousand copies of each two-tape cassette were distributed in the UK, with others sent to sympathetic groups all over Europe, as well as in Japan, the USA, Canada and Australia.86 While this demonstrates the power of collaborative endeavour and effective networking, the ease of VHS duplication and the portability of the medium meant that the real number of copies circulating was actually far higher, since – according to Murray Martin of Amber Films, one of the film and video workshops involved – people could and did make copies of their own tapes to pass on to others.87 While this is normally viewed as ‘pirating’, in this case the project did not have a purely commercial imperative and it demonstrated the ease and speed with which video could be circulated to a substantial audience. Nevertheless, small distributors like LVA, The Other Cinema (TOC), Cinema of Women (COW), Circles and even the British Film Institute (BFI) were on the whole slow to tackle the home video market – indeed, the BFI had been researching the possibility since at least 1982.88 There were a number of reasons for this – not least that no-one really knew how to do it, and for LVA in particular the engagement with video as a mass medium was very much at odds with using video as an art form.89 However, a key reason was the implications video had for 16mm distribution. While video clearly had some potential to access new 112

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audiences, the motivating factor among many distributors for embracing it initially was that its flexibility and relative cheapness compared to film made it beneficial to their existing institutional user base, and several distributors reported a fairly rapid increase in earned income generated by video distribution.90 However, as the domestic video boom increased institutional users’ familiarity with the medium and increasingly conditioned them to opt for using video, there was a growing concern about the future of distributors’ 16mm print collections. To try and help ensure the continued use of those collections and preserve the filmic experience, some distributors initially charged the same rental fee irrespective of whether a title was hired on video or celluloid.91 But if a film was to be used more than once, purchasing a VHS copy became significantly cheaper than repeat 16mm hires, and by the mid-1980s the perception that film was ‘being replaced by video’ was becoming fairly widespread.92 Furthermore, despite the belief that video technology would make possible the delivery of a wider range of moving image material to a wider audience, there was also a concomitant concern at the time that the wide take up of video would in fact result in a lessening of choice – that it would become very difficult, if not impossible, to see those film not transferred to video. As Ian Christie of the BFI’s Distribution Division observed, due to its long history and relative cheapness as a production format, the UK’s 16mm stock included ‘an exceptionally wide variety of titles – much larger than the 35mm or video cassette stock is ever likely to be’.93 The full implications of this were made particularly evident when the major 16mm distributor Harris Films went into liquidation in 1986. With a library of around 13,000 prints and videos handled on behalf of 220 independent distributors and rights holders, Harris had made available a very diverse range of 16mm titles for hire by film societies, schools and other non-theatrical outlets. Indeed, Christie estimated Harris were the supplier of at least two-thirds of all ‘specialised’ 16mm films in the UK, and by the mid-1980s they were handling around 10,000 bookings per annum.94 When no commercial company stepped forward to take over the Harris library, there was a very real risk that many of its titles would simply fall out of distribution, radically diminishing the diversity of moving image work available in the UK. To prevent this from happening, the BFI mounted their own rescue package with the assistance of funding from John Paul Getty and relaunched the company under the new name of Glenbuck Films Ltd. While concern with preserving the country’s 16mm heritage did not directly affect LVA or Albany Video Distribution, it nevertheless impacted on the wider sector’s willingness to engage more aggressively with the full potential offered by video distribution.95 The Coming of Channel 4: Everything Gets Watched Another, and arguably more promising, avenue for accessing the home market and engaging a wider audience was of course television. In 1985, a Greater London Council (GLC) strategy document reported that: ‘98% of households own a television set, and on average British 113

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people spend 22 hours a week watching it.’96 At the time this made it, as the GLC observed, ‘by far the most important form of cultural diffusion’,97 since its potential reach – compared to other forms of distribution – was enormous. As Sylvia Harvey has explained: In 1936 [left-wing non-commercial distributor] Kino had estimated that 1,000 screenings had reached a total of nearly 250,000 people in the course of the year; by contrast, in 1983 The Cause of Ireland (Platform Films, 1983), a film made from a perspective highly critical of the role of the British state in Northern Ireland and focusing on the view of working-class people, reached through one screening on Channel Four Television an estimated audience of 294,000.98 Similarly, although cinema releases could give films national visibility, that did not always translate into high viewing figures. Although Marleen Gorris’ feminist feature film A Question of Silence (Netherlands 1982) became an extremely well-known film in the UK when COW gave it a theatrical release (see Chapter 2), it was actually seen in cinemas by less than 25,000 people over a two year period.99 While the Arts Council’s ‘Perspectives’ exhibition at the Hayward had been deemed very successful, it had attracted a total audience of less than 6000.100 By contrast, as Channel 4 assistant commissioning editor Rod Stoneman has observed: ‘television has that very substantial encounter with the audience.’101 There had been some sporadic but notable forays into UK television by artists and activists using video during the 1970s. In 1969 Hoppy and others had set up the TVX video cooperative, which joined the LFMC in the IRAT/London New Arts Lab building in Robert Street. The following year, 1970, there was a police drugs raid on the building while Hoppy’s group had a camera running: As soon as the drugs bust was over, around 7 in the evening … we took our video playback equipment, rushed off to the BBC in Shepherd’s Bush and showed them what had happened. We told them we’d got news footage of what looked like a police bust and they put it on air the same evening. … I think the point to be clear about is that this represented distribution – not distribution by sending something through the post or having a cinema show, but distribution on national TV.102 Although TVX followed this later in the year with some colour experimental work for BBC2, David Hall’s 1971 so-called TV Interruptions – commissioned as part of the Scottish Arts Council’s Locations Edinburgh project – are widely regarded as the first example of British artists’ television.103 Locations Edinburgh had ‘invited a number of artists to do things in shop windows and in the street – anywhere other than a gallery’ and Hall took this a stage further by proposing using television.104 The result was ten short experimental pieces, seven of which were broadcast by Scottish Television as unannounced ‘interruptions’ to the advertised schedule. These were followed in 1974 by Peter Donebauer’s Entering, an abstract colour video work commissioned and broadcast nationally by BBC2’s Second House, and by 114

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the 1976 Arena programme. The latter, conceived by Anna Ridley, produced by Mark Kidel and presented by David Hall, broadcast tapes by British and American artists and included a specially commissioned piece by Hall, This is a TV Receiver.105 But it was the coming of Channel 4, with its pioneering Independent Film and Video Department and its remit to promote experiment and innovation, that opened up significant opportunities for broadcasting material that otherwise might have only been seen by at best a few thousand people and usually by far fewer. In contrast to the UK’s existing television services, the new fourth channel operated as a ‘publisher-broadcaster’, buying in or commissioning its programming from independent companies rather than producing it in-house. In the years running up to Channel 4’s launch in 1982, a key concern in the independent sector was to secure and maximise the channel’s potential to support a wide range of independent production. Extensive campaigning and negotiation undertaken with the assistance of the Independent Film and Video-Makers’ Association resulted in the Workshop Declaration, an agreement made between the Channel and the TV technicians’ union ACTT, which allowed the setting up of franchised film and video workshops to produce work for broadcast outside of the usual union agreements.106 Consequently, as Margaret Dickinson has observed: ‘Film-makers who, previously, had circulated their work to audiences of tens or hundreds were now addressing hundreds of thousands, occasionally millions.’107 While for many Channel 4 failed to sustain its early promise,108 it undoubtedly changed the broadcast landscape and various commentators have noted particular high points. For instance, Dickinson goes on to note the opening of the Independent Film and Video Department’s 11th Hour strand with Cinema Action’s documentary So that You Can Live (1981) – about a family in a South Wales valley community facing rising unemployment resulting from pit and factory closures – as one such moment: ‘Here was a film, given airtime and widely discussed and praised, which before, because of its unorthodox appearance, its politics and the political reputation of its producer, would have had virtually no chance of being broadcast.’109 Similarly, John Wyver’s Ghosts in the Machine, a six-part series featuring American video art and artists’ television pieces, broadcast in 1986 attracted an audience of 1.2 million. Although Wyver’s was not the first such series – both Anna Ridley and the video group Triple Vision had produced series for Channel 4 focusing on British work which aired in 1984 and 1985 respectively110 – Ghosts was generally well received and importantly elicited one very enthusiastic review by Chris Dunkley of the Financial Times. As with cinema releases (see Chapter 2), the media attention elicited by a television broadcast could help create an extremely high level of visibility for the work and in this case also enabled a second series to be made in 1988, featuring some specially commissioned work from British artists.111 According to Film and Video Umbrella’s Steven Bode the impact that Ghosts achieved represents ‘a significant moment in which video art starts to permeate a broader public consciousness, and particularly opens the eyes of producers and creatives in the television and advertising industries’.112 These kinds of successes demonstrated the enormous potential of television for expanding audiences for artists’ and independent film 115

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and video work. Indeed, as Rod Stoneman, reflecting on his experience as an assistant and deputy commissioning editor at Channel 4, has argued: ‘[I] was showing some of this kind of independent material on television late at night, and you know, one of the amazing things is that you couldn’t stop a large number of people watching it.’113 Targeting Television: Potential and Limitations Although Channel 4 opened up new production opportunities, its brief to promote innovation and experiment also presented ‘alternative’ distributors with a new potential market. This was particularly so in the run up to its launch in November 1982, since the new channel began buying up existing work to ensure that it had enough programming to fill its schedules. In 1981 Cinema of Women (COW), for instance, benefited from Channel 4’s spending spree, managing to sell broadcast rights to no fewer than six films: Soho (Jan Matthews, UK, 1980), Thriller (Sally Potter, UK, 1979), Linda Beyond the Expected (Audrey Summerhill, UK, 1979), The Power of Men is the Patience of Women (Cristina Perincioli, West Germany, 1978), My Survival as an Aboriginal (Essie Coffey, Australia, 1979) and Daughter Rite (Michelle Citron, USA, 1979).114 While the rate of sales slowed after the channel’s launch, COW, together with other distributors, continued to sell work to the new channel throughout most of the 1980s. Indeed, in their search for new acquisitions they became very adept at identifying work that they could sell to Channel 4. Shortly after the new channel went on air Circles’ co-founder Felicity Sparrow acquired Valie Export’s feature film Invisible Adversaries (Austria, 1977). Although she intended to release the film theatrically, the need for subtitling made it an expensive acquisition. But according to Sparrow: ‘I just had this inkling that if I sat Alan [Fountain, former Channel 4 commissioning editor] down, I could sell it to Channel 4, which I did.’115 However, a particular set of circumstances resulted in LVA developing a specific remit to actively target and develop television sales for artists’ video. Like TOC, LFMC, COW and Circles, LVA had been brought to life through the volunteerism of its founding members. While LVA had succeeded in accessing funding to support their activities relatively quickly, it was capital and project based funding only, and until the early 1980s all work continued to be carried out by volunteers. By June 1981, however, David Critchley reported to the Arts Council: LVA’s activities, and the demands being made on its facilities and services have grown beyond the point where a voluntary workforce of interested individuals can cope with the workload, regardless of their commitment to and goodwill towards the community of artists using video.116 In 1982 the situation was alleviated when LVA succeeded in getting a Gulbenkian award of £10,000 to fund a full-time administrative post, which they split between three part-time 116

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roles to cover distribution (Jane Parish), exhibition (Jeremy Welsh) and overall co-ordination (David Critchley). The following year they benefited from Channel 4’s first investment in community access video workshops which provided LVA with editing facilities. Indeed, LVA proved very adept at tapping into multiple sources of funding and by 1983–84 had been or were in receipt of funding from the Arts Council, Channel 4, the Gulbenkian Foundation, the Greater London Arts Association (later renamed Greater London Arts), the Greater London Council and the British Film Institute.117 This mix of funding made a considerable difference, enabling the organisation to realise its founding vision of supporting distribution, exhibition and production – with a paid worker responsible for each area118 – without being dependent on a single key funder.119 But in the longer term, it also resulted in something of an identity crisis. The post-‘Video Show’ discussions, the original application to the Arts Council and LVA’s first catalogue had all stressed the organisation’s focus on the experimental/aesthetic use of video, artists’ work in video, or video art. But the original founding group had already had a disagreement in 1979 with regard to how to move LVA forward: one half had wanted the organisation to be privately run and become more professionalised, while the other wanted it to be publicly run and retain a more open and co-operative ethos to help foster wider video art practice – something which was also characteristic of the independent sector (see Chapter 1). The latter group won the vote, which resulted in the withdrawal of founding members David Hall, Stephen Partridge and Roger Bernard, but also rendered LVA eligible for a wider range of grants. However, accessing that wider range of funding obliged them to meet a corresponding range of funding criteria and conditions. Although the commitment to supporting artists remained at the core of LVA, increasingly their facilities and services were targeted at and used by a far wider range of groups. As David Critchley, who had responsibility for writing the funding applications, has observed: I was trying to make [LVA] all things to all people. I felt I had to do that, partly because of the funding constraints from different angles, but also because of the nature of the demand, which seemed to be coming from these many disparate sources, one of which was art and artists. But I got to the point where I had to admit … I was trying to run a social service, as if it was a benefit to everyone to have the means to produce videotapes.120 At the same time, with the setting up of the edit suite in 1983 – enabling LVA to offer postproduction facilities in addition to equipment hire – LVA’s income earning potential and identity started to centre on its increasing role as a facilities and training provider.121 Video equipment was still sufficiently ‘new, alien, strange, expensive’ that LVA played a key role in facilitating the staging of shows and training people to use the equipment because at the time relatively few people had the necessary technical expertise.122 This aspect of their activity was, however, largely funded by the Greater London Council (GLC) and aligned LVA more with the wider independent sector than the artists’ community that had created it. Indeed, when the Arts Council funded the organisation to provide two video art production

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bursaries in the mid-1980s, the term ‘art’ disappeared entirely from the publicity advertising the posts, causing the funder much consternation.123 In the process of this identity shift, however, the distribution service became sidelined in terms of the organisation’s priorities,124 particularly as it was not directly funded in the way that LVA’s other activities were. Furthermore, while distribution income had continued to rise, when distribution worker Jane Parish left at short notice in February 1987 she was not replaced for over six months, resulting in a massive backlog of work and contributing to a dramatic fall-off in distribution revenue. The fall-off in distribution activity was compounded when exhibition organiser Jeremy Welsh also left soon afterwards and was not immediately replaced. By the time of LVA’s 1987 assessment meeting an Arts Council officer was moved to observe that ‘LVA doesn’t seem to be fully exploiting its virtual monopoly of artist’s work’,125 but in light of the organisation’s loss of key expertise this was at the time hardly surprising. Furthermore, LVA was also experiencing wider factioneering problems within the collective at this point, which culminated in an individual reporting an accusation of staff misconduct to one of their funders, Greater London Arts (GLA). GLA had no alternative but to place LVA on review and wrote to the organisation in April 1988 expressing in fact a range of concerns.126 Because LVA’s mixed funding had extended the constituency it was serving, its management structures were not considered representative of its wider range of users. In addition GLA were also critical of the way LVA’s service provision was run, as well as of the organisation’s marketing of itself as a whole and distribution in particular, which – although not funded per se by GLA – they felt ‘was not generating enough earned income’.127 Thus, overall, by the late 1980s LVA was experiencing something of a crisis. As the organisation had, however, become a key facilities and training provider for London’s independent film and video sector, GLA were insistent that LVA ‘sort itself out’ and made their continued funding conditional upon LVA undertaking a management consultancy to review the operation of the whole organisation.128 Comedia, who undertook the review for LVA, delivered their final report in November 1988. Although the consultancy examined LVA’s operating structures, it was also centrally concerned with the organisation’s strategic development. A number of issues were addressed, but a key proposal in the report was the recruitment of a Marketing Manager, who would function to promote the organisation generally, but would principally be concerned with developing distribution. With regard to the latter Comedia noted a number of possible markets, but stressed that: A key part of the marketing task will be television sales. When LVA was formed this was hardly likely to be a major part of activity. But with the recent Ghosts in the Machine series on Channel Four, this activity seems to have passed LVA by. The marketing person needs to identify programme opportunities – whether solely about video arts or as clips to the range of arts programmes now going on air – and make the contacts necessary to

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make these sales. This activity needs to go hand in hand with developing international opportunities for television sales.129 Interestingly, these proposals substantially replicated ones that LVA had themselves made to the Arts Council in 1984–85 to combine the distribution and exhibition activities into a promotional bureau for artists’ video (see Chapter 4). While the earlier proposals were rejected, the review and consultancy process precipitated the conditions which allowed the organisation to radically restructure – from a collective into a management hierarchy – and prioritise promotion. In January 1989, in response to the consultancy, LVA drew up a Three Year Plan and made an application to the Arts Council’s pilot Incentive Funding scheme. While these initiatives addressed other aspects of LVA’s activities, both discussed the intention to employ a Marketing Officer.130 It was envisaged that, with increased tape hires and sales, the post would eventually become self-financing. However, in the short term LVA negotiated with the Arts Council to redirect their annual exhibition funding to support the marketing post,131 and in September 1989 they recruited Michael Maziere with a remit to prioritise broadcast sales.132 As a result, LVA’s television sales dramatically increased over the next three to four years – jumping from five in 1991–92, to 25 the following year, to 58 in 1993–94 – with work sold to Channel 4 and the BBC, SBS in Australia, Canal Plus in France, ZDF in Germany, as well as broadcasters in Spain, the Netherlands, Sweden, Switzerland, Norway, Belgium, Finland, the Czech Republic and Austria.133 In acknowledgement of this achievement, the Arts Council stressed that Maziere’s annual activity reports were ‘extremely useful in demonstrating not just your own organisation’s effectiveness, but the marketability of the (kind of) work we fund’.134 However, as early as 1991, Maziere flagged up potential problems with the broadcast market. The sales LVA were making to television were of short individual pieces which were used as contributions to larger programmes or as fillers. But there was a ceiling to this market – there were only so many programmes across the broadcast market in any given year that could accommodate this kind of material. Furthermore, the market proved ‘volatile and unpredictable’, with some broadcasters buying one year but not the next.135 It was also noticeable that the majority of sales were overseas. Of the 25 sales in 1992–93, only 5 were UK ones – to Channel 4 – and of the 58 sales made the following year, none were to domestic broadcasters. While this was in part symptomatic of Channel 4’s lessening engagement with innovative work in the course of the 1990s, Channel 4’s involvement with the independent sector had in fact proved problematic for distributors. Part of the promise of Channel 4 was its ability to commission a wide range of independent producers via the franchised workshops to make work specifically for television. Although the process created new work that might otherwise have not been made, it also bypassed existing distributors, excluding them from the ‘supply chain’, and usurped their traditional role of delivering independent work to audiences. Although the problem had become apparent as early as 1984,136 to start with it didn’t particularly affect LVA. Much of the work they distributed was funded by the Arts Council, and LVA – like other distributors – had 119

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been able to sell such work, commissioned or funded elsewhere, to the Channel. Indeed, LVA had in fact been doing so prior to the Comedia consultancy and even experienced a bumper year in 1986 when their distribution income rocketed to an all-time high137 – although the Comedia consultants seem to have been unaware of this fact (see Chapter 6). But from 1988 the Arts Council became co-funder with Channel 4 of a number of schemes to produce artists’ work for broadcast – such as the 11th Hour Awards and Experimenta.138 The first of these co-production schemes was initiated as a result of the government imposing a reduction on the Arts Council’s overall budget. In an attempt to counter the impact on artists’ film and video Arts Council Film Officer David Curtis had approached Rod Stoneman in the Channel’s Independent Film and Video Department, as a possible source of future production funding. The resulting co-production schemes had the effect, however, of limiting LVA’s scope for selling work to Channel 4 and contributed to the abovementioned fall off in distribution income in 1987.139 Moreover, once a producer was commissioned by a broadcaster, it removed the incentive to seek out other forms of distribution for the work – that LVA, Albany Video Distribution (AVD) and other specialist distributors could provide. As John Wyver, co-founder of the production company Illuminations, has explained with regard to his own involvement with television: ‘With us, as a production company, as long as we kept producing new work, the return we received from trying to distribute it through a screening at Warwick Arts Centre, for example, was utterly marginal compared to selling a new idea to the broadcaster.’140 Although Wyver recognises this dismissal of alternative distribution networks was shortsighted, broadcasters’ attitudes towards copyright often encouraged it. While copyright agreements varied, the broadcaster would normally expect to own the finished work and retain the rights, even if they did nothing with them. On occasions, when co-production schemes were set up ownership was split between the broadcaster and their funding partner. Unless alternative agreements were negotiated, this limited a producer’s ability to pursue other avenues of distribution. A notable exception was the above-mentioned Arts CouncilChannel 4 co-production schemes that Curtis initiated. Although the broadcaster viewed it as work for television, Curtis insisted that the artists retained the copyright for their work and that Channel 4 had the right to only two transmissions.141 Of course, making work for – and selling work to – television also enabled home viewers and institutional users to tape the material as it was broadcast. To a certain extent this offers further evidence that the combination of the video cassette ‘revolution’ and Channel 4’s brief interest in experimental and innovative work did widen audiences for independently produced material. However, it’s possible to argue that ironically it also reduced the ability of small specialist distributors to both benefit financially from a potential new audience and sustain one of their traditional key markets.142

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Back to Video In the light of the problems presented by the television market, LVA stressed to the Arts Council that broadcast sales would ‘not be the panacea for the funding of distribution nor should it be the be all and end all of LVA’s distribution activities’.143 And indeed, the Comedia consultancy had identified a number of possible markets for LVA’s tapes. Although the potential impact of video on the 16mm market had been a cause for concern in the mid-1980s, cuts in national arts funding at the end of the decade were forcing distributors like LVA and AVD to explore all possible markets in order to increase their levels of earned income (see Chapter 5). Furthermore, by the beginning of the 1990s attitudes were starting to change and concern that video would actually replace celluloid was diminishing. Indeed, by 1990, when the BFI launched their Connoisseur Video label, the draft speech written for Sir Richard Attenborough argued that if anything video had conversely encouraged the public’s engagement with cinema: [T]here are those who sincerely believed the video boom of the 80s was one of the last nails in the coffin of British cinemagoing; but they can surely take comfort from the fact that attendances are now rising dramatically year on year, while video purchases and rentals are also rising steadily. This suggests … that the increased availability of films on video, especially films that were until very recently considered rare and hard to see, can in fact enhance our national awareness of, and appetite for, cinema.144 Although LVA continued to pursue the educational and gallery/museum markets, during the 1990s they – like the BFI – entered the home video arena, launching three different sell-through labels. Indeed, given Channel 4’s declining interest in experimental work, it’s possible to argue it was precisely the appropriate moment to do so. However, despite the growing retail video market and the exposure achieved for artists’ film and video via the channel (and to a lesser extent the BBC), these did not in fact fare much better than the 1980s mail order initiatives. Their first foray into the sell-through market was with the Video Burn label, launched in 1991– 92. According to Maziere, they ‘cherry-picked’ from their existing library, selecting those tapes that had proved popular on TV or had that kind of potential – such as Simon Biggs’ A New Life (1989), George Snow’s Muybridge Revisited (1988) and John Maybury’s Absurd (1990) – in the belief that such tapes would be most suited to the home market. To try and make the work as accessible as possible to a wider audience, they packaged the work as ‘cult’ material and put together two volumes, each priced at around £14.99.145 According to Maziere, ‘[it] was meant to hit the low end, to hit the same people who would buy an indie band tape, the kind of cult, alternative end of things’.146 Appropriately they used Jettisoundz who obviously knew that market to handle the physical distribution. By then Jettisoundz were shifting significant volumes from their own catalogue, mainly through mail order, but were also able to get the LVA tapes into HMV and Virgin stores. Interestingly, the tapes were also picked up for review on Thames Television’s Video View 121

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magazine programme, which reviewed a selection of the new video releases. Primarily showcasing feature film video releases, given the relative newness and growing popularity of retail video, the programme also gave space to other work as well. Although the tapes sold over 200 copies in their first 12 months, LVA took this as evidence that the material was not suited to the low-end cult market and did not pursue the venture.147 In 1994 LVA – now renamed London Electronic Arts – entered the sell-through market for the second time by launching five tapes under the Éditions à Voir video label. This European label was already being set up by an organisation in Amsterdam with Espace Vidéo Européen (EVE) funding to distribute arts and arts-related material. The head of the label wanted to include some video art and accessed the work by collaborating with five European distributors, including London Electronic Arts (LEA). According to Maziere, LEA participated because the European funding offered the opportunity for high quality presentation and of placing the work very firmly in an arts context, with the tapes being sold in book shops at venues like the Tate and the ICA at a price of £19.99. The material LVA contributed included Bill Viola’s The Passing (1991), David Larcher’s Granny Is (1989), Gavin Hodge and Tim Morrison’s Zygosis (1991) and two compilations, Video Poems and Digital Dreams.148 Most of the tapes appear to have sold in similar quantities to the Video Burn volumes – with the exception of Viola’s The Passing which sold around four times as many copies as the other LEA titles released on the label – and in 1996 LEA again pulled out.149 Although they felt the work was appropriately positioned in the market place, the financial return was disappointing and LEA felt a lack of control due to the collaborative nature of the venture.150 LEA launched their third sell-through initiative – a series of artists’ monographs which included Jack Smith, Cordelia Swann, George Barber, Tony Hill, Akiko Hado and John Maybury – in 1997. In order to retain control over the whole venture, the project was selffunded by LEA and the monographs duplicated in-house. This level of control enabled them to impose their own pricing structure and they undertook a two-stage release, with the tapes being made available initially at an institutional price only of £100. Twelve months later, they also made the tapes available at a price of £25 to individuals, both via mail-order and through their own shop at the newly opened Lux Centre in London’s upcoming area of Hoxton. On the whole, the strategy was perceived to be reasonably successful, and according to George Barber, for instance, his monograph went into a second run, which suggests it sold in excess of 500 copies.151 While getting the tapes into shops – especially their own – gave the work a greater degree of visibility, the fact that the volume of sales for these releases were mostly no higher than the earlier mail order initiatives echoes the problems of developing audiences experienced by TOC and COW, as discussed in Chapter 2 – that it takes time, and hence sustained resources, to build audiences for unfamiliar or challenging work. That the Viola release was the exception also demonstrates the role that a substantial pre-existing international profile and the resulting prior knowledge on the part of the general public can play in producing a substantially higher level of sales.152 The BFI has been far better placed than distributors 122

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like LEA and Albany Video Distribution (AVD) to exploit that reality as a way of supporting the sell-through release of lesser-known work. Over the years their video label, which was relaunched in 1997–98 as BFI Video Publishing, has built a significant list of avant-garde film and video work. However, they have been able to balance these against a core list of art house and world cinema classics – such as Jean Cocteau’s La Belle et la Bête (France, 1946), Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (Japan, 1954) and Karel Reisz’ Saturday Night Sunday Morning (1960) – which have usually shifted around 10,000 units. The income generated by such titles meant that the BFI has been able to allow the more challenging work time to build audiences and even go into profit without putting the company ‘at risk’.153 However, it also suggests that the general public’s enthusiasm for video had its limitations. Although there was undoubtedly a domestic video ‘boom’, in the UK the annual number of rental transactions always exceeded the number of sales. While for the distributor VHS was a far more flexible and portable medium than both 16mm and u-matic, it is possible to argue that for the domestic consumer it was still a fairly bulky one and not particularly attractive or durable. Interestingly, with DVDs, this consumer behaviour has been reversed to a significant degree, with the number of sales far exceeding rentals as soon as the retail market developed.154 And while postal video rental services failed to take off, DVD loan services like LoveFilm in the UK and Netflix in the USA have of course proved enormously popular. Quantity vs Quality? Although audience sizes varied dramatically, it is undeniable that Channel 4 in particular and, to a lesser extent, the video cassette ‘revolution’, made independently produced film and video work more widely available and enabled it to be seen by wider audiences. Although audience figures declined in the late 1990s, in the early-mid 1990s Channel 4’s (and BBC’s more occasional) broadcasts of artists’ work would, for instance, regularly attract between 200,000 and 700,000 viewers.155 It is also undeniable that delivering work to audiences via television had a significant impact, as is evident in the responses to the broadcast of Cinema Action’s documentary and the Ghosts in the Machine series mentioned above. Indeed, David Curtis has asserted that it was the latter that in part awoke his interest in working with television.156 Even the earlier forays into television had often had an observable effect. With regard to the broadcast of his TV Interruptions in 1971, for instance, David Hall has recalled: [W]e went to an old men’s club in [Edinburgh’s] Princes Street, where very rich, old guys would sit there, mostly asleep or reading newspapers and drinking whisky. There was always a TV on and in one of the pieces, the TV screen fills with water – a tap comes on in the corner and it fills with water. When this was shown, all the newspapers dropped and they all woke up for those few minutes, wondering what was going on, then it went back 123

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to the news or Coronation Street and they all dozed off again. Now that seemed to me to be a really positive thing to do because in a way, it raised questions about this television being a soporific, ineffectual piece of furniture with whatever was happening on it, in the corner of this vast room. So, the meaning of its presence was shifted and was suddenly in question.157 Years later, freelance curators Mark Webber and Lisa Le Fevre both noted the formative influence of the Arts Council-Channel 4 collaboration Midnight Underground, a series which broadcast a range of artists’ film and video work in the mid-1990s. Amongst other work, it included David Larcher’s VideØvoid (1994) and Daniel Reeves’ Obsessive Becoming (1995), and Le Fevre has recalled how people used to gather around the TV to watch the broadcasts.158 In a similar vein, David Curtis has reported that among the ‘fan letters’ that Channel 4 received in response to the series, there was one from ‘somebody on the West Coast of Scotland who said “there’s no cinema within 50 miles of here, and I never knew such things existed”’.159 However, while television enabled this ‘substantial encounter’ with audiences, it also had significant limitations and constraints. Although a route to wider audiences, it was nevertheless a relatively narrow pipeline and inevitably involved a process of selection,160 with a small group of people making the decisions. Furthermore, not all work purchased or commissioned by television was actually broadcast. By 1988, for instance, none of the six films Cinema of Women sold to Channel 4 in 1981 had been broadcast.161 Similarly, for the Arts Council-Channel 4 co-production schemes initiated by Curtis, Channel 4 had the right not to transmit the resulting films and in at least one instance exercised it.162 Even when work was broadcast, the encounter with television inevitably shaped the work. With rare exception – such as in the case of Hall’s 1971 interruptions – artists’ work, for instance, was usually packaged and contextualised within an ‘arts’ programme or programming strand, and for some artists this diffused the potential of the work to unsettle, disturb or challenge the viewer.163 While not all artists/practitioners were interested in working with television, those that were also found themselves having to work to strict deadlines, shoehorn their creative ideas into specific programming slots and take on board the broadcaster’s concern with audiences.164 But perhaps more importantly, the distribution and exhibition of work via television changed the viewing context. While watching television is not necessarily a solitary pastime, it does not replicate the communal activity of a group or public screening. 16mm film may have been a less flexible medium, but that very inflexibility usually meant films were watched by groups of people who came together specifically for the purpose. This in turn opened up the possibility of discussion – to help promote not only greater understanding of the films themselves or the issues they addressed, but also in some cases social change. In contrast artists’ work on television, for instance, was for the most part broadcast late at night in the so-called graveyard slot. While Rod Stoneman recalled showing a black and white, subtitled videotape interview with Jacques Lacan at 1.45am and still attracting an audience 124

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of 250,000,165 John Wyver has suggested that it is very difficult to know what that means: ‘the rating system is incredibly unreliable – you do wonder how many of those nominal quarter of a million were actually asleep or drunk or doing something else’.166 Even though television certainly reaches a wider audience, Stoneman also acknowledged that in fact a broadcaster has very little control over if or how work is engaged with: ‘one is just putting things out in the ether in the hope that a context can be found for them’.167 Although the broadcast of Cinema Action’s film So That You Can Live may have been a noteworthy event in Channel 4’s history, at the time of its broadcast documentary filmmaker Michael Chanan argued that in fact it should not be watched on television. Rather, because the film shows ‘the process which generates the problems’ and its slow-pacing allows ‘plenty of time for reflection’, he suggested it should seen ‘in live gatherings, in factories and schools and halls in every community up and down the country where a sense of community can still be found’.168 It’s possible to argue that, in this instance, a television transmission – despite the far wider reach than could have been achieved via 16mm distribution – represented a missed opportunity for grass-roots engagement. Similarly, when Daniel Reeves’ Obsessive Becoming was transmitted at 12.40am, the filmmaker argued that it was ‘like throwing it away’ since it didn’t allow the film to realise its potential. The film draws on footage and photos taken by the filmmaker’s family since the 1940s to create a very personal and moving experimental autobiography. Reeves’ experience of touring with it around colleges, universities and festivals had demonstrated to him the film’s ‘relevancy to many people’s lives’ and that it had the capacity to have a tremendous impact on audiences: ‘People come up to me afterwards. It’s a bit too much at times. The piece seems to break open something that some people have been stuck on. I’ve sometimes been standing there with people weeping.’169 For artistactivist Mike Leggett that lack of audience interaction made the experience of having work broadcast ‘entirely vapid … one of the greatest anti-climaxes I can ever recall’.170 Channel 4 was certainly capable of building substantial audiences very quickly – in a way that was simply not possible for The Other Cinema and Cinema of Women through theatrical distribution (see Chapter 2). And clearly it did increase awareness of independent sector work, with some broadcasts attracting positive reviews and viewer responses. Nevertheless, both makers and distributors lost any control over the viewing context and hence the quality of the interaction, as well as personal contact with the audience. Although video initiatives reached far smaller audiences, once video sales developed distributors likewise lost contact with their users, and attention also inevitably became more focused on number of units sold. As noted above Channel 4 broadcasts did have some observable impact but with video, as customers increasingly opted to purchase a VHS copy rather than hire work, distributors lost the evidence that titles were actually used which repeat bookings and feedback from hirers had traditionally provided. In contrast to the detailed information that COW and other distributors received via audience feedback forms (see Chapter 2) and regular contact with hirers, with VHS sales they had no idea if tapes, once purchased, were ever watched. Even if they were, they still had no way of knowing either audience size or viewers’ responses to the films. Although the video cassette ‘revolution’ did help improve 125

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both the availability of artists’ and independent moving image work and access to it, it may be the case that that’s all it did. That such work was easier to get hold of and more available – via both video and Channel 4 – did not necessarily mean it was watched or engaged with in a meaningful way. Furthermore, given the narrow supply pipeline offered by television and the historical titles that were unlikely to get transferred to video, the audiences that did exist for the work in fact had access to a narrower selection of work. Notes    1. In 1978, distribution workers reported that ‘[t]he office … houses about 800 films although it distributes twice that number’. London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Distribution Report, October 1978, p. 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC).    2. David Finch, Co-op Distribution, letter to Lorraine Leeson, 30 November 1982. Source: courtsey of the Lux.    3. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution Office, letter to Tim Cawkwell, 30 January 1980. Source: courtesy of the Lux. By 1982, rather than continually pester filmmakers to actually deposit their films in the distribution library, the LFMC was looking at finding a way of working with the situation by ‘trying to set up a system for film-makers who want their films to be distributed through the Co-op, while keeping their prints at home’. See Finch, letter to Leeson, November 1982, ibid.    4. David Hall, ‘Transcripts of Interviews’, Appendix to Chris Meigh-Andrews, Mapping the Image, PhD thesis, Royal College of Art, May 2001, p. 45.    5. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Chris Garratt, 14 October 1977. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Availalble at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/sparrow771014.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).    6. Rod Stoneman, former Assistant and Deputy Commissioning Editor, Channel 4 (1983–93), in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 September 2002. For the counter-argument see, for instance, Simon Blanchard, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004, and Laura Mulvey, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 June 2003, both quoted in Chapter 2.    7. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee Meeting, 2 May 1977, p. 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3).    8. See, for instance, Mulvey, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit., and David Curtis, in interview with Peter Thomas, 6 August 2003. It is also something that has been very much in evidence in the contemporary era of digital distribution – see, for instance, the Power to the Pixel website at http://powertothepixel.com/.   9.  See, for instance, Jeremy Welsh, ‘Introduction: Then, Now, Next’, LVA Catalogue, 1987, p. 3: ‘Unlike any other situation in which artists might display their work, Television offers the potential for a mass audience’. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   10. British Film Institute, ‘Publicising and Distributing Film and Television’, 23 February 1982: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–87).  11. See, for instance, Museum of Early Consumer Electronics and 1st Achievements at www. rewindmuseum.com (accessed 28 October 2009); and Mick Hartney ‘inT/Ventions: some instances of confrontation with British broadcasting’ in Julia Knight (ed.) Diverse Practices: 126

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A Critical Reader on British Video Art (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey Media/ ACGB 1996), pp. 21–58.   12. Stephen Partridge, LVA co-founder, in interview with Peter Thomas, 15 March 2005.   13. Mike Leggett, in interview with Peter Thomas, 10 December 2004. Indeed some early video art took as its subject matter the way making copies resulted in the break up of the video image.   14. Sue Hall and John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins, in interview with Peter Thomas, 25 February 2005.   15. Ibid. Indeed, according to Hall, her tape Ben’s Arrest (1974), a single two minute take of a young black man being violently arrested in North London, was ‘the first piece of video to be used as evidence in a court of law’. Hall and Hoppy would also frequently film the squatters’ meetings, but if nothing significant happened the flexibility of video meant they could simply re-use the tape.  16.  Later models were not backwards compatible which rendered earlier models obsolete and diminished its popularity. See http://www.rewindmuseum.com/philips.htm (accessed 6 November 2009).   17. Hall and Hopkins, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   18. Together with Peter Bloch, William Feaver, Stuart Hood and Clive Scollay.   19. David Hall, in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 March 2005.   20. David Critchley, in interview with Peter Thomas, 23 March 2005.   21. Stephen Partridge, Anna Ridley, David Hall, letter to Tamara Krikorian, Stuart Marshall, David Critchley, Pete Livingstone, Brian Hoey, Clive Richardson, June Marsh, John Grey, Steve James, Mike Upton, Mike Leggett, Dirk Larson, Trevor Pollard, Roger Barnard, Tony Sinden, Dave Parsons, Ian Breakwell, Bill Lundberg, Sue Braden, Nigel Smith and Cliff Evans, 2 June 1975. Source: courtesy of David Hall.  22. Hall could recall having access to u-matic equipment by 1976, in interview with Thomas, 2005. Although the American work at ‘The Video Show’ was on u-matic, the majority had been originated on open-reel video and was transferred to the Philips domestic video-cassette platform for presentational ease. Leggett, in interview with Thomas, December 2004; Partridge, in interview with Thomas, 2005; and Hall, in interview with Thomas, 2005. Philips effectively sponsored the show, providing the playback decks and tapes, while also footing the cost of doing the transfers. See also Video Times: The Video Show: Festival of Independent Video, Serpentine Gallery, 1–26 May 1975. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   23. Indeed, by the summer of 1976 The Other Cinema was already considering piloting video distribution. See Minutes of the Council of Management meetings, The Other Cinema, for 26 July 1976, 2 August 1976 and 16 August 1976, Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema. Minutes of 2 August 1976 available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins760802.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   24. Those involved appear to disagree on when the idea for LVA was actually proposed. Stephen Partridge recalls it as happening at the time of ‘The Video Show’ (in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.), while David Hall recalls it as happening slightly later when they had begun staging shows at 2B Butler’s Wharf (in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.) which was only set up a few months after ‘The Video Show’.  25. David Hall, Stephen Partridge, David Critchley, Pete Livingstone, Roger Barnard, Tamara Krikorian and Jon Turpie, on behalf of London Video Arts, letter to Rodney Wilson, Art Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, 4 December 1976. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, LVA application).   26. See, for instance, Minutes of the 16th Meeting of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 7 April 1976: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, 127

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ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 2). ‘Minutes of a Working Party Meeting between the British Film Institute, Greater London Arts Association, Arts Council of Great Britain, London Boroughs Association, Greater London Council on 21 December 1976 at the Greater London Arts Association’: 4; and Barrie Ellis-Jones, Regional Officer, BFI, memo, ‘For Working Party Meeting of April 27, 1977, GLAA Video Resources Report’, 20 April 1977. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/16, TOCExhibition). Minutes, Working Party, 21 December 1976, available at http://fv-distributiondatabase.ac.uk/PDFs/wp761221.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   27. Report to the Arts Council on Future Videotape Distribution, by Sue Hall and John Hopkins, Fantasy Factory, May 1977. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3).   28. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee Meeting, 2 May 1977: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3).  29. Minutes of a Meeting Between the Artists’ Films Committee and London Video Arts, 20 May 1977, p. 4. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   30. Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, internal memo to Robin Campbell, 30 September 1975. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/16, TOC-Exhibition). Minutes of the Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, 7 April 1976: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 2).   31. Hall et al., letter to Wilson, Arts Council of Great Britain, 1976, op. cit. See also Minutes of a Meeting Between the Artists’ Film Committee and London Video Arts, 20 May 1977: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   32. Minutes, Artists’ Film Committee and London Video Arts, May 1977, ibid., p. 2.   33. Ibid., pp. 2–3.   34. Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, internal memo to ACGB SecretaryGeneral, 23 August 1977: 2. The Artists’ Film Committee also decided to purchase the equipment themselves so that ‘it could be retrieved in the event of the group breaking up’ (ibid.). Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   35. London Video Arts, Income and Expenditure Account, Period Ended 31 March 1978. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   36. London Video Arts, Income and Expenditure Account, Period Ended 31 March 1980. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   37. Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Roger Barnard, LVA, 13 March 1979: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2).   38. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit; and Hall, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. Indeed, for a while the AIR, Acme and Whitechapel Galleries were sharing one u-matic player between them. This equipment scarcity also limited the initial take up of the Arts Council’s extension of their Filmmakers on Tour Scheme to include video in 1980.

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  39. David Critchley, Peter Livingstone, Jonnie Turpie for LVA Steering Committee, ‘Perspectives on Open Video Studios’, 11 August 1980: 1, plus ‘Actual Hire of Equipment’ attachment. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2). Indeed, the capital grant awarded in 1979 was made on the condition that the equipment was made available to other users, see Wilson, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Barnard, 1979, op. cit.   40. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.; David Critchley, LVA, hand-written note to Arts Council of Great Britain, 3 February 1982. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2). Of course, it also enabled LVA to make a small profit.  41. David Critchley, LVA, letter to all producers whose work has been distributed by LVA, 30 October 1983. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   42. ‘Shows in Britain and Abroad … London Video Arts … 1978–84’, undated: 1–9. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LVA 81–7).   43. See http://www.rewindmuseum.com/philips.htm (accessed 6 November 2009).   44. See for instance, ‘Tony Rayns reviews: The Video Show’, Time Out, 9–15 May 1975: 8–9.   45. One account of the Betamax/VHS format war can be found on Sony’s own site at http://www. sony.net/Fun/SH/1-14/h1.html (accessed 12 November 2009).   46. Various sources report or evidence the format war had been won by the mid-1980s. Jeremy Welsh, for instance, recalled that by 1985–86 ‘[VHS] was what people thought of as video’ (in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2005), while the BFI’s Film and Video Library activity reports for the period show that the vast majority of their video hires were on VHS, with very few if any on the Betamax or Philips format.   47. Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy: The Cultural Industries (n.d), p. 14.   48. The Greater London Enterprise Board, ‘Altered Images: Towards a Strategy for London’s Cultural Industries’, undated: 14. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, Publications).   49. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’, October 1989, ‘Chart 1: Film and Video Groups Funding Base (1988/89)’: 65. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   50. Ian Christie, BFI, ‘Towards 1996: The BFI and UK Film Policy’, January 1985: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987). Julian Petley, ‘The Video Image’, Sight & Sound (Winter), 1989–90: 24. Both report the UK market as being worth £300 million.  51. Petley, ibid.   52. British Film Institute, ‘Publicising and Distributing’, 1982, op. cit., p. 3.  53. Albany Video, ‘Community Video Distribution: A Proposal’, July 1983: 1. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 36).   54. Jon Dovey and Jo Dungey, The Videoactive Report (London: Videoactive, 1985): section 1.5. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   55. Geoff Mulgan and Ken Worpole, letter to Independent Film- and Video-Makers’ Association and others, ‘Investment Strategy in the Cultural Industries 1985’, 20 May 1985. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 64, red binder).   56. See for instance, Krishan Arora and Justin Lewis, Off the Shelf: A Video Marketing Handbook (London: IFVA 1987). Source: courtesy of Julia Knight.   57. ‘Draft for Sir Richard’s Speech at Sotheby’s’, 18 September 1990: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Miscellaneous, box 11).

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  58. Brian Hoey, in correspondence with Julia Knight, 7 December 1994.  59. Margaret Gillan for LVA, circular letter to artists, 28 November 1980. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   60. Indeed, an ‘open access library’ had been included in ‘The Video Show’ to allow visitors to view any tape.   61. ‘ICA Public Access Video Library: Open Meeting 23 March 7.30’ publicity flyer, 1981. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   62. David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee: Outreach Report’, April 1984: 3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut).   63. Rodney Wilson, Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, internal memo, October 1985. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/203, Video Access Libraries, case 1).   64. David Critchley for LVA, letter to LVA members ‘ICA Video Library/Cinematheque’, 5 March 1981: 1. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   65. Margaret Gillan for LVA, Letter to LVA Members, 13 April 1981: 1. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   66. David Critchley, ICA Video Library/Cinematheque mailout to LVA members, 5 March 1981: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection (LVA). Gillan, LVA, 1981, ibid., and enclosed sample contract dated February 1981; subsequent undated sample contract specifying audience cap. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   67. See for instance Wilson, internal memo, 1985, op. cit., and Mike Leggett, in interview with Peter Thomas, 8 February 2004.   68. Curtis, ‘Outreach Report’, 1984 op. cit.   69. Wilson, internal memo, 1985, op. cit.   70. Jez Welsh, Chris Rushton, LVA, letter to video music compilation contributors, 15 September 1983. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge.   71. Jeremy Welsh, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2005.   72. The early history of Albany Video that follows comes from email correspondence with Geoff Stow (16 and 21 June 2006) and from Tony Dowmunt, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 16 February 2006. Both Stow and Dowmunt were early members of the workshop.   73. Initially a student placement, who was followed by Martin Vogel who had previously volunteered with Albany Video. When Vogel left, he was replaced by Val Martin who was employed as the workshop’s administrator and to run the distribution operation.   74. Paul Taylor, West Glamorgan Video and Film Workshop, letter to Circles, 3 May 1988; and Anne Hutton, State Film Centre of Victoria, letter to Circles, 13 September 1988. Source: Cinenova (Circles incoming correspondence 1987–88). Laura McGregor, Youth Clubs UK, letter to Circles, 10 November 1988. Source: Cinenova (Circles incoming correspondence 1989).   75. Taylor, letter to Circles, 1988, ibid., p. 1.   76. Dovey and Dungey, 1985, op. cit., section 6.5.2.   77. Wilson, internal memo, 1985, op. cit.   78. Dovey and Dungey, 1985, op. cit., section 6.5.3.   79. Ibid., section 6.5.4.   80. Reported in ibid., section 4.2  81. The Videoactive Report notes various attempts, including initiatives by The Observer newspaper and the BFI, as well as proposals involving Concord Film Council, the Labour Party and the New Socialist magazine. Ibid., section 4.11. 130

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  82. The Greater London Enterprise Board, ‘Altered Images’, undated, op. cit., pp. 16–17. In this document they also report that the number of library authorities with video collections had risen to 70 out of a total of 167.  83. John Bentham, ‘The Jettisoundz Story’ at www.screenedge.com/archive/jettisoundz/jetstory. htm (August 1994) (accessed 8 February 2004).  84. Ibid.   85. George Barber, in interview with Julia Knight, 23 March 2005.   86. See David E. James, ‘For a Working Class Television: The Miners’ Campaign Tape Project’ in Power Misses: Essays Across (Un)Popular Culture (London: Verso, 1996), pp. 248–65; also available at http://strikingdistance.com/sd9705/c3i.3/james/miner01.html (accessed 24 March 2006); Murray Martin, Amber Films, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 9 May 2006; and Alan Fountain, ‘Alternative film, video and television 1965–2005’ in Kate Coyer, Tony Dowmunt and Alan Fountain (eds), The Alternative Media Handbook (London & New York: Routledge, 2007), pp. 38–39. Fountain also notes that the tapes raised considerable sums of money for the miners and their families.   87. Martin, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2006, ibid. It’s also worth noting that by 1983–84 even the LFMC were considering the use of video to help get their films more widely seen, since video copies would make their films more available for previewing. See Peter Milner, LFMC, letter and Application to Alan Fountain, Channel 4 for capital equipment grant to establish a telecine facility, 1 March 1983. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC).   88. British Film Institute, ‘Publicising and Distributing’, 1982, op. cit., p. 3.   89. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   90. See a transcript of ‘The Other Cinema – A Short History, 1970–85’, an interview conducted by Sylvia Harvey with Peter Sainsbury, Paul Marris, Tony Kirkhope, Ann Lamont and Bridie Thompson, July 1985: 19. Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema. The interview was published in two-parts in Screen, 26(6), November 1985 and Screen, 27(2), March 1986. See also Eileen McNulty, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 May 2004; and Dovey and Dungey, 1985, op. cit.   91. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, ibid. See also Dovey and Dungey, ibid., section 4.13.   92. Ian Christie, British Film Institute, ‘Preserving the 16mm Heritage, or Where is next week’s film coming from?’ 22 October 1986: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate, Box D/34 Glenbuck Film Ltd, 1966–88). Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 19.  93. Christie, ibid.  94. Ian Christie, British Film Institute, ‘Distribution Division Report: July 1986–January 1987’ March 1987: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987).   95. Writing in 1990–91 Sean Cubitt also attributed the lack of ‘alternative’ video product to a market driven economy: ‘[T]he structures of contemporary capital militate against the development of video culture by concentrating on market consolidation based on homogenised product – principally in the form of the 90-minute feature film. So much so that the entire medium can now be considered as largely devoted to the distribution of Hollywood cinema films.’ Cubitt, Timeshift: On Video Culture (London: Routledge 1991), pp. 17–18. For discussion of the economics of independent film and video distribution sector, see our Chapter 5.   96. Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy, undated, p. 24.

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 97. Ibid.  98. Sylvia Harvey, ‘The “Other Cinema” in Britain: Unfinished Business in Oppositional and Independent Film, 1929–1984’ in Charles Barr (ed.), All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema (London: BFI Publishing, 1986), p. 235. Although the comparison highlights the potential of television, it should also be noted that none of the distributors studied were able to achieve Kino’s level of activity, and suggests not only considerable resources but an extremely high level of audience commitment.   99. See cinema receipt dockets. Source: Cinenova (COW films, A Question of Silence, loose). 100. Minutes of the Artists’ Films Committee Meeting, 2 May 1977: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 3). 101. Rod Stoneman, in interview with Peter Thomas, 2 July 2003. 102. Hall and Hopkins, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. The footage was broadcast on Late Night Lineup, a late night BBC2 discussion series, which since its inception in 1964 had become known for ‘lively arts-based debates and intellectual rigour’. See http://www.screenonline.org. uk/tv/id/994718/index.html (accessed 19 November 2009). 103. UK artists were also making interventions into television in other countries as well, with Mike Leggett selling work to Belgium TV and Keith Arnatt producing work for German television. 104. Hall, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. As is now well documented, David Hall’s TV Interruptions were shot on 16mm. He had already started working with video and wanted to shoot them on video, but the union stipulated that the quality wasn’t good enough for broadcast (ibid.). 105. See ‘A Chronological Guide to British Video Art’ in Knight, Diverse Practices, 1996, op. cit., pp. 353–56. 106. For an excellent summary of the background and debates that led to the Workshop Declaration and informed the setting up of Channel 4, see Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999). 107. Ibid., p. 63. 108. Again, an excellent summary of how Channel 4 developed can be found in Dickinson, ibid. 109. Ibid., p. 74. 110. In 1984 Anna Ridley produced Artists’ Works for Television, with work by Ian Breakwell, Rosemary Butcher, David Cunningham, Rose Garrard, John Latham, Michael Nyman and Paul Richards, and Stephen Partridge. In 1985 Triple Vision produced Video 1/2/3, a series of three programmes shown in the 11th Hour slot, which included work by George Barber, Ian Breakwell, Duvet Brothers, Catherine Elwes, Gorilla Tapes, David Hall, Chris Rushton, Jeremy Welsh, Graham Young and Kevin Atherton. 111. See ‘Artists and Broadcast’ in Knight, Diverse Practices, 1996, op. cit., pp. 99–121. 112. ‘A Chronological Guide to British Video Art’ in Knight. Ibid., p. 365. 113. Rod Stoneman, in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 September 2002. 114. Gail Patterson, Programme Acquisition Executive, Channel Four Television, letter to Jenny Wallace, Cinema of Women, 7 July 1988. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Thriller). 115. Felicity Sparrow, in interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003. 116.  David Critchley, an application for a bursary to research and temporarily administer London Video Arts until Jan/Feb 1982, when the proposed Gulbenkian Foundation funded administrative post should commence, enclosed with letter to Rodney Wilson, Film and Video Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, 25 June 1981. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2). 132

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117. ‘Funding’. Source: courtesy of Stephen Partridge. 118. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 119. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. Welsh also argued it gave them a period of stability. 120. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 121. Jeremy Welsh asserts that the edit suite(s) became key because at the time there was still relatively little access. In interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 122. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 123. Jeremy Welsh, LVA, LVA Video Artist Bursaries, January 1984; David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to A.L. Rees, 23 May 1984; and Curtis, letter to David Critchley, LVA, 14 May 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 2). 124. Comedia Consultancy, ‘London Video Artists Management Review’, November 1988: 7. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers). Jane Parish also noted that while LVA was located in a very small office space in Wardour Street, the ability to facilitate production work was minimal and the focus had been on distribution and exhibition activity. When they moved to much larger offices in Frith Street that changed since the additional space enabled the support of production work to be dramatically expanded. Parish, in interview with Peter Thomas, 21 September 2005. 125. Minutes of London Video Arts, Assessment Meeting, 19 October 1987: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 126. Felicity Sparrow, Film & Video Officer, Greater London Arts, letter to Alison Malone, London Video Arts, 19 April 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 127. Ibid., p. 2. Indeed when Simon Blanchard of the Independent Film- and Video-Makers’ Association had conducted an audit of LVA’s distribution during the early-mid 1980s, he had – according to Critchley – expressed genuine surprise that it was only generating around £5–6000 per annum, having assumed it was generating an annual income more in the region of £50,000. Critchley, in interview with Julia Knight, 28 October 1994. 128. Sparrow, letter to Malone, 1988, op. cit., p. 2; Minutes of the Council of Management Meeting on 20 April 1988, p. 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LVA, 88). 129.  Comedia Consultancy, ‘London Video Artists Management Review’, November 1988: 18. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers). 130. LVA: A Three Year Plan, January 1989, p. 1; and Incentive Funding Form B, section 1, p. 15. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 131. David Critchley, Report on the GLA Annual Review Meeting held at LVA on 29.11.88: 4; and David Curtis, Film & Video Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Doug Foot, General Manager, LVA, 4 April 1990: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). In fact, the Arts Council had been considering this course of action as early as May 1988, more or less as soon as Comedia commenced their consultancy. See David Curtis, Film & Video Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, Memorandum to Malcolm Le Grice, 26 May 1988. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Boyden-Southwood, LVA Consultation). 132. Doug Foot, General Manager, ‘London Video Access – Marketing and Distribution: Action Plan – Year 1990/1991’: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). See also Michael Maziere, in interview with Julia Knight, 11 October 1994. 133

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133. See Michael Maziere, Distribution & Marketing Manager, LVA, ‘LVA Distribution Report and Application’, September 1991; LVA Distribution and Exhibition, Arts Council Report, 1991/92, 1992/93; and LVA Distribution and Exhibition, Arts Council Report, April 1993 to March 1994. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 134. David Curtis, Film & Video Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Michael Maziere, LVA, 11 January 1994. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 135. Maziere, ‘LVA Distribution Report’, 1991, op. cit., p. 7. In the report Maziere argues that the only way to increase sales to television is to start commissioning and co-producing work for television. 136. J.K. Cayford, ‘Ch4: The Eleventh House: Some Views’: 4. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 33). 137. The accounts for that year reported distribution income of £31,641. London Video Arts Limited, Annual Report and Financial Statements, Year Ended 31 March 1987, p. 3A. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LVA, 81–7). See also Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 138. See Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit.; Michael Maziere, ‘Institutional Support for Artists’ Film and Video in England 1966–2003’, 5.2 Broadcast Funding Strategies, at http://www. studycollection.co.uk/maziere/paper.html#52 (accessed 26 November 2009). 139. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 140. John Wyver, Illuminations, in interview with Peter Thomas, 2 June 2003. Murray Martin of Amber Films also echoed this sentiment, arguing that it made far more sense to get fully funded up front to produce work than having to try and recover costs through distribution after completion. Martin, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2006, op. cit. 141. Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op cit. The right to any subsequent transmission had to be negotiated afresh. 142. Among the people interviewed in the course of our research, opinions varied as to the precise extent of the impact of off-air recording. Some have suggested it was significant, while others felt it was negligible. 143. Maziere, ‘LVA Distribution Report’, 1991, op. cit., p. 7. 144. ‘Draft for Sir Richard’s Speech’, 1990, op. cit., p. 2. 145. Michael Maziere, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 4 March 2005. 146. Michael Maziere, in interview with Julia Knight, 11 October 1994. 147. Michael Maziere, ‘LVA Distribution and Exhibition, Arts Council Report, April 1993–March 1994’: 32. Source: courtesy of Michael Maziere. 148. Maziere, in interview with Knight, 1994, op. cit.; and Maziere, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 149. Michael Maziere, letter to Éditions à Voir, 2 July 1996. Source: courtesy of Michael Maziere. 150. Michael, in interview with Knight, 1994, op. cit.; and Maziere, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 151. George Barber, in interview with Julia Knight, 23 March 2005. 152.  For further discussion of this, see Julia Knight, ‘DVD, Video and Reaching Audiences: Experiments in Moving Image Distribution’, Convergence, 13(1), February 2007: 19–42. 153. Erich Sargeant, Acting Head of Content, British Film Institute, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 11 March 2005. For a fuller discussion of these sell-through initiatives and the related issues, see Knight, ibid. 134

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154. Eddie Dyja (ed.), BFI Film Handbook 2005 (London: BFI 2004), p. 55. Various distributors have also commented on the popularity of DVD over video. See Sargeant, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, ibid.; and Andi Engel, Artificial Eye, in interview with Peter Thomas, 1 November 2005. 155. Michael Maziere, ‘Institutional Support for Artists’ Film and Video in England 1966–2003’, Appendix L6 ‘Arts Council Artists’ Film and Video Committee, Artists’ Film and Video Broadcast Viewing Figures’ at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/maziere/lists/L6.html (accessed 26 November 2009). 156. Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 157. Hall, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 158. See ‘Study Day: Institutional Support for British Experimental Film and Video, Birkbeck, University of London, 13 December 2001’ at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/maziere/ docs/D5.html (accessed 26 November 2009); and Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. Note: The published date of the Birkbeck Study Day is an error, it was in fact held on 13 December 2002. 159. Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 160. Stoneman, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit.; Wyver, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 161. Although some were subsequently. 162. Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003. 163. See for instance Hartney, ‘InT/Ventions’ and ‘Artists and Broadcast’, both in Knight, Diverse Practices, 1996, op. cit. 164. Various artists and others have commented on the constraints of working for broadcast television, particularly broadcasters’ preoccupation with target audiences, which a number of artists simply did not share. See, for instance Meigh-Andrews, Mapping the Image, op. cit., p. 110; Daniel Reeves, ‘Transcripts of Interviews’, Appendix to Meigh-Andrews, ibid., p. 80; Curtis, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 165. Stoneman, in interview with Thomas, 2002, op. cit. 166. Wyver, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 167. Stoneman, in interview with Thomas, 2002, op. cit. 168. Michael Chanan, ‘So That You Can Live (For Shirley)’, in Dickinson, Rogue Reels, 1999, op. cit., pp. 172–73. 169. Reeves, ‘Transcripts of Interviews’, in Meigh-Andrews, Mapping the Image, 2001, op. cit., p. 79. 170. Leggett, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.

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Chapter 4 Promotion, Selection and Engaging Audiences: Circles, Film and Video Umbrella, London Video Access and London Film-Makers’ Co-op

P

art of the role of the distribution link in the ‘supply chain’ is to make work available, but as discussed in Chapters 2 and 3, simply making moving image work available is no guarantee that people will watch it or engage with it in a meaningful way. Irrespective of the specific ‘route to the audience’, viewers have to know the work is available and be persuaded to take an interest. Indeed, along with making work available, promoting its visibility and convincing audiences to engage with it are the ordinary business of a distributor. Artists’ and independent distributors have been particularly inventive in developing strategies and ideas for promoting work to potential audiences, even when operating within the non-selective distribution policies implemented by the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) and London Video Access (LVA). This chapter begins with an exploration of some of those initiatives – and their varying degrees of success – as undertaken during the latter half of the 1970s and early 1980s, including acquisition strategies, the distributor’s catalogue and the development of a critical discourse around the work being distributed. This was a period that saw the substantial growth of the distribution collections of LFMC and LVA, which required both organisations to engage more directly with how to develop audiences for their work. However, the chapter is particularly concerned with the curated touring package, which was endorsed in 1989 as the funders’ preferred distribution vehicle. Through case studies of Circles and the Film and Video Umbrella during the 1980s – when both organisations started operating – but by also returning to London Video Access and the London Film-Makers’ Co-op, the chapter goes on to discuss the substantial success of this model in engaging new audiences, together with its crucial dependence on state subsidy, and the Umbrella’s uneasy relationship with the traditional distributors during the late 1980s and early 1990s. Inclusivity as a Form of Promotion When the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) and London Video Access (LVA) were founded, in 1966 and 1976 respectively, both were informed by a commitment to develop areas of moving image practice. In the case of the LFMC, the underdeveloped area was English experimental film, while for LVA it was the very new and emerging area of video art. For both it proved easiest to set up a distribution library first (see Chapters 1 and 3), but the prioritising of distribution also stemmed from a recognition of the need to make the 139

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work that existed more easily available. Only then would it get exposed to wider audiences, which would in turn raise awareness of the films/videos and hopefully stimulate further production work. To help progress these aims, both organisations adopted an open access acquisitions policy. That is, as the LFMC expressed it, they would simply accept all ‘noncommercial’ or ‘independent’ films1 that were offered to them, without going through a formal selection process whereby some might be rejected.2 As production in experimental film and video developed, both libraries grew with increasing rapidity and came to include a very broad range of material. By the mid-1970s the LFMC library, for instance, had acquired around 500 titles.3 Just over a decade later that had tripled to over 1500,4 and Film and Video Umbrella organiser Michael O’Pray was moved to describe the LFMC as having ‘one of the best stocked [avant-garde] film libraries in Europe, if not the world’.5 The substantial holdings of both organisations were thus viewed as a hugely positive feature, providing an invaluable and wide ranging pool of material from which users – including promoters and programmers – could select according to their needs. This was, after all, the original reason that the collections were created (see Chapters 1 and 3). The key tool for promoting the work housed in the LFMC and LVA libraries was the printed catalogue. Indeed, as discussed in Chapters 1 and 3, the LFMC and LVA wasted little time in bringing out their first catalogues, the former moving on the task within months of its official formation with a cheaply duplicated listing of available titles, and the latter receiving its first funding from the Arts Council for this purpose. Just as importantly, however, the catalogue was also a key way for the distributor to publicise its existence generally, to raise awareness among their potential audiences that they were the place to go when looking for a certain kind of material. As LVA co-founder Stephen Partridge has asserted, they prioritised ‘getting the catalogue together because that would give us a presence and identity’.6 All the distributors studied reported a noticeable upturn in business every time they published a new catalogue, and most found that programmers, curators and audio-visual librarians would keep the catalogues even after they were out of date to use as a reference resource. Hence, in terms of generating business and public profile, they were viewed as indispensable. Further, the clear evidence of their importance to users suggests that catalogues are perhaps the most basic and important tool of distribution. This was even more the case for the LFMC and LVA, as they initially operated a policy of not actively recommending to potential hirers any particular films or videos over any others lodged in their libraries.7 The catalogues were used to promote the distribution libraries in their entirety and, wherever possible, hirers were left to make their own choices based on the information provided in the catalogues. This approach was partly a logical extension of their non-selective acquisitions policies, but it also stemmed from the fact that both organisations were set up and run by the artists themselves on a co-operative model, and thus were held under common ownership by all members equally. This system could hardly function if certain film or video makers were privileged over others – potentially gaining more exposure, prestige and royalties – by the distributor itself.8 Hence both organisations have been characterised as having – at least to start with – a broadly ‘non-promotional’ approach 140

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to distribution in the sense that they did not promote individual titles or sub-sections of their collection. But this has to be seen within the formative context of the organisations, where many artists were also event organisers, programmers and writers, promoting their own and others’ works. That artist-members, the organisations’ exhibition wings, and external parties would select and promote was accepted and necessary, but equally it was not the business of LVA or LFMC Distribution to do so. At one level this refusal to select was a key strength. Unlike in the commercial sector, it meant that any film or video maker could get their work into distribution and – via the catalogue – promoted to potential users. As the LFMC noted in the late 1980s: ‘[it] means above all else that anyone, whether it be their first or twenty-first film, can place their work with us without having to contend with a hierarchical and beurocratic [sic] selection “committee” … and it also means that every so often a “little gem” is discovered hidden in a cupboard which otherwise you would never have known existed’.9 The importance of this, as LVA co-founder David Critchley has observed, was that it helped foster a wider range of creative practice, since it did not cut off avenues of exploration before they had a chance to develop due to particular tastes or preferences dominating.10 This was precisely one of the concerns with regard to the Film-Makers on Tour scheme when it was first introduced in 1977 (see Chapter 1): that it functioned to promote a small ‘elite’, and defacto excluded filmmakers who had not sought Arts Council production funding.11 By contrast, non-selective distribution – inclusivity – ensured that a range and substantial body of work became both available and visible. The refusal to select and privilege particular works or practitioners at the levels of acquisition and marketing was a recognition of the importance and role of ‘distribution’ in supporting and nurturing an area of moving image practice. However, in the longer term this inclusivity became a major weakness for both the LFMC and LVA. As a result of their open access policies both organisations ended up having inappropriate films housed in their libraries.12 For the LFMC this started to create problems at their annual preview shows, which screened all the films deposited in the library during the previous 12 months to an invited audience of programmers and hirers, as well as members of the public. In 1982 workers reported that audience feedback from these shows suggested the inclusion of some submitted work – such as more commercially orientated travelogue and wildlife films – tended to ‘confuse our purpose as distributors of independent experimental and avant-garde film’.13 At the same time, despite O’Pray’s assertion above, both organisations were aware that their open access ethos had left them with ‘gaping holes’ in their libraries – they did not always have works of particular historical significance, the complete works of artists or even key works by a particular artist, as might be expected. This was exacerbated for the LFMC when older or more popular prints became worn, eventually having to be withdrawn from distribution, since it was not always possible to obtain replacements.14 This issue of gaps in their collections became increasingly problematic as the status of both organisations grew over the years, making each of them the major UK distributor in their respective areas.

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As the libraries expanded, distribution workers also found it impossible to keep up with processing all the new submissions deposited with them. By 1982 a Distribution SubCommittee asked the Co-op to reconsider its open access policy arguing that while any form of censorship would be regrettable, the organisation might eventually be forced to ‘trim’ the collection in order to deal with the growing practical and economic problems of film storage, insurance and management.15 During the mid-late 1980s, as video production equipment became cheaper and an increasing number of art-college graduates were turning to the ‘hot’ new medium, LVA experienced a similar ‘oversupply’ of material, and new submissions often languished on the shelves, uncatalogued.16 For both organisations, as their libraries grew in size, it also meant that distribution workers inevitably became less and less familiar with the full scope of the collections they were servicing and promoting. As one LVA worker observed in the late 1980s: ‘Eventually there were too many titles to make sense of it.’17 It also became virtually impossible to regularly produce printed catalogues, partly because it took a substantial amount of work to check what each library held and compile catalogue entries, and partly because catalogues had became increasingly costly to produce. Although the LFMC tackled the former issue by requiring filmmakers to write their own entries, distribution workers found they still had to chase up filmmakers for their entries, request clarification or rewrite them.18 The latter issue, however, was a problem that taxed all the distributors studied. None were able to finance the production of a full catalogue from their existing resources, and had to apply for project funding to meet the costs – funding which was not always available. In its absence, a common solution was to compile cheaply produced plain text supplements – foregoing the luxury of a professional designer, images, a proper cover and so on – which simply listed all the new acquisitions. The LFMC did this for 16 years, producing a succession of 11 supplements between the publication of their 1977 catalogue (funded with financial assistance from the Greater London Arts Association)19 and their next full catalogue in 1993 (funded with financial assistance from the British Film Institute and the Arts Council). But eventually multiple supplements are not conducive to finding information easily and quickly.20 However, as the libraries were continually growing, even when organisations were able to produce a full catalogue it could be out of date almost before it was published.21 After the LFMC published a new catalogue in the spring of 1977, for instance, by the July they were already working on its first supplement.22 At the same time, the full catalogue had become an unwieldy volume in itself. The LFMC’s 1977 catalogue ran to over 80 pages (expanding to over 180 pages for the 1993 one) and, in keeping with their policy of nonselective distribution, the filmmakers were listed in alphabetical order and the films in date order under each name. With no further form of categorisation and no programming guidance, catalogue users had to wade through pages and pages of text if they were to make an informed decision about what films might be suitable for their needs. Inevitably most hirers did not have the time to do so and tended to book the work they were already familiar with.23 142

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As former LFMC distribution worker Felicity Sparrow – who worked on the 1977 catalogue and its first three supplements – has since observed: ‘[E]ven back then, one was beginning to see that this “no promotion” thing ended up being a very capitalist system because only certain people got booked.’24 Consequently, towards the end of 1980 her successors, Mick Kidd and Anna Thew, noted in their Distribution report that ‘a vast number of films/filmmakers listed in the catalogue and supplements receive very few bookings’.25 As the Arts Council’s Film- and Video-Makers On Tour schemes (see Chapter 1) had started to exacerbate the problem by privileging a small number of practitioners and undercutting the distributors’ hire prices, some film and video makers became increasingly dissatisfied with the exposure they received via the LFMC and LVA.26 However, even before the FilmMakers on Tour scheme was initiated in 1977, some filmmakers had already withdrawn their films from the Co-op due to low – and in some cases zero – royalty payments over periods of two to three years.27 When US filmmaker Jonas Mekas withdrew his Diaries from the LFMC in 1976 in favour of another UK distributor, who was willing to fund the cost of new prints for the entire series,28 distribution worker Deke Dusinberre viewed the decision sympathetically: [I] (personally) can only endorse your action by virtue of the fact that the cheque i am enclosing (which covers the entire year’s rentals on your films) amounts to an embarrassing £6.60. I am fairly sure that with a serious promotion (something we are constitutionally restricted from doing) your films can rent rather well in England.29 However, this should not been seen in isolation from the general plight of experimental film distribution at the time. Mekas, one of the best known artist filmmakers in the world, candidly admitted that he could not have afforded to make the prints himself and considered that the new distributor would ‘lose a few shirts’ on the deal.30 Mekas considered the task of distributing his films ‘heroic and thankless’.31 The Need for Promotional Strategies As Sparrow and Dusinberre’s comments indicate, LFMC workers were well aware of the problems that the inclusive approach to distribution had developed. While the catalogue functioned very effectively to demonstrate the availability of a growing body of work, collection growth made the catalogue far less effective at ensuring that a range of material across the full breadth of work actually got booked. For that to happen, the LFMC was largely dependent upon the filmmakers doing their own promotion. As distribution worker David Finch informed one filmmaker in 1982: ‘We generally find that the only way most Co-op distribution film-makers get bookings is by doing their own promotion.’32 However, the filmmakers were not always their own best advocates. Not only did they frequently fail to produce any publicity material for themselves,33 but the catalogue entries many wrote 143

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tended to express their own ideas about their work, rather than provide potential hirers with clear informative descriptions.34 But even when films were booked, if they were to have an audience the LFMC and their filmmakers were in turn dependent upon hirers and venues doing publicity for their screenings – something in which they were frequently negligent. In October 1978, for instance, LFMC Distribution reported that across three festivals/exhibitions that they had sent films to that year, publicity had ranged from at best ‘poor’ to at worst ‘atrocious’.35 This suggests that poor marketing was a widespread issue, which extended beyond the problems created by the inclusive practices of the Co-op and LVA. Filmmaker Mike Leggett and video artist David Critchley have both related experiences of participating in the Film- and VideoMakers On Tour schemes where the venue booking them had failed to publicise the event adequately, if at all, and as a result no audience turned up.36 Although Leggett noted that this was a one-off experience, by the 1980s a number of reports, consultancies and funders began observing that the so-called independent film and video sector generally had a history of poor self-promotion.37 Yet during the 1970s, despite their policy of non-selective distribution, the LFMC had in fact implemented a range of promotional strategies in addition to the production of a catalogue. Although, as Dusinberre indicates above, Distribution did not promote individual titles, LFMC workers – as part of their wider roles as event organisers and programmers – had always sent packages of work to festivals and other events. Indeed it was one of the key achievements they listed in their 1975 funding application to the British Film Institute38 (see Chapter 1). Further, the Distribution Office had not only offered occasional preview screenings to potential hirers and set up a previewing service for festival programmers,39 but through the LFMC cinema also offered screenings to both its own and visiting overseas filmmakers.40 Until the Arts Council’s Film-Makers On Tour (FMOT) scheme started to take over the role, they had also regularly organised small shows for LFMC filmmakers at other venues41 (see Chapter 1) – and indeed continued to do so for visiting overseas filmmakers.42 From time to time, distribution workers would also quietly circumvent their passive acquisitions policy and ‘encourage’ certain filmmakers to submit work. For instance, when US filmmaker George Kuchar was scheduled to visit the UK in 1978, distribution worker Felicity Sparrow wrote to him asking if he would be interested in depositing his films with the Co-op, assuring him ‘they’d certainly get booked if you do’.43 Around the same time, LFMC Distribution also exploited the existence of the British Film Institute’s Film Availability Service (FAS), which wherever possible assisted independent distributors by covering the cost of making distribution prints of films that would otherwise be unavailable in the UK. Cinema of Women (COW) made use of the FAS’s initiative a few years later (see Chapter 2). But while COW were able to apply to the FAS themselves, the LFMC had to get the filmmakers to apply, since any direct approach from the Co-op targeting particular films would have constituted a clear form of ‘selection’.44 By encouraging filmmakers to pursue this avenue, the LFMC were able to bring films by Klaus Wyborny, Stan Brakhage and George Landow into UK distribution.45 A further initiative instigated first by Sparrow in 144

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the late 1970s46 and revisited by Thew and Kidd at the beginning of the 1980s was the setting up of a resources centre, where filmmakers could deposit images, promotional material and information about their films for use by visiting programmers, hirers and curators.47 Thew and Kidd extended the initiative by building up a reference library of books, requesting VHS preview copies of films, and setting up the above mentioned annual preview shows. However, during the mid-late 1970s a combination of factors started to erode the volunteer activism that had brought the LFMC into existence and sustained it during its first ten years (see Chapter 1). Gradually the Co-op found they frequently had to remind their filmmakers of the need to promote their films themselves.48 Concerned that the LFMC’s membership seemed to be becoming increasingly passive,49 filmmaker Mike Leggett initiated a Working Party to address the fundamental problem of ‘how to get the films out to a larger number of venues/people’.50 The Working Party – consisting of James MacKay, Andrew Nicholson, Andrew Dunlop, Rod Stoneman and Leggett – drew up proposals for festival programming, guidelines for arranging screenings, overhauling the catalogue and launching a magazine,51 which discussed in some detail how the LFMC could re-assert its centrality to the distribution of its members’ work. It was argued, for instance, that the catalogue needed to include more visual material and a series of contextualising articles on the background, theory and history of avant-garde film. This would locate the films within a discourse and enable the catalogue to more effectively promote the films,52 while setting up a magazine would extend that initiative by developing a forum for debate, criticism and information exchange.53 A key issue addressed, however, was the necessity for filmmakers to work more actively with programmers and hirers. The guidelines proposed by Leggett stressed to the filmmaker that: Close collaboration with the organizer is an essential feature of mounting screenings. Besides advising on procedures, many organizers need quite committed encouragement to present shows of avant-garde and independent work.54 He also stressed the benefits of having filmmakers attend screenings to introduce and discuss the films, as well as the need to structure a programme, to be aware of an audience’s prior experience of such work and to provide appropriate programme information. The Working Party initiative had raised the possibility of quite radical changes,55 but in the event the LFMC remained committed to its overall policy of non-selective distribution. While the proposals were mostly accepted,56 many of the suggestions largely re-instated what had once been well-established practices. Even the proposal for a Co-op magazine had a short-lived precedent, but the LFMC’s decision to set one up afresh – resulting in the launch of Undercut in 1981 – was at least partly in recognition of the fact that it could ‘assume the burden of publicizing co-op work’.57 Repeatedly, since the setting up of the Co-op and the Drury Lane Arts Lab in the 1960s, those involved in the non-mainstream moving image sector recognised the importance of having publications willing to devote space to their activities. At a very practical level 145

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it circulates basic information about what’s going on and so helps to raise awareness of an area of cultural practice. As John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins has recalled with regard to the impetus for setting up the underground newspaper, The International Times (IT), in 1966 (see Chapter 1): ‘There was a lot of stuff going on [in London] that wasn’t covered in straight media, and that’s one of the stimuli that got us to start IT. … We needed a medium to carry information about our culture.’58 But equally important was the development of a body of critical and analytical writing about such activities, since it not only helps provide a context and discourse within which to publicise and screen the work, but also acts as a form of general promotion. As Thew found during her time at the LFMC, for instance: ‘[E]verything that [P. Adams] Sitney wrote about would go out. It just worked like that.’59 Thus, when the founding Better Books group drew up the first draft LFMC constitution, they included a commitment to publishing a quarterly magazine, Cinim.60 Although it only ran to three issues, it was specifically conceived of as one of the means by which they would further their aim to ‘encourage the making of independent non-commercial films in Great Britain and to facilitate their wider distribution’ (our italics).61 Shortly after Cinim’s demise, Peter Sainsbury and Simon Field set up Afterimage to perform a similar function. At the time Sainsbury was working at The Other Cinema (TOC), and the magazine provided a space in which to develop a critical discourse around the kinds of films TOC was distributing (see Chapter 2).62 Gradually existing magazines started to take on board these new areas of practice, as did some academic journals. In particular the weekly listings magazine Time Out played an absolutely key role in raising the profile of experimental and independent work through its regular coverage of the area.63 As already noted in Chapter 1, the leading arts magazine Studio International also devoted special issues to experimental film (in 1975) and video art (in 1976), while Screen helped develop a theoretical discourse around the work of the Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA) community.64 Nevertheless, there remained a perceived need for dedicated publications and Afterimage, for instance, continued to run until the mid-1980s, while Undercut enjoyed a ten-year publication run.65 Although in later years Undercut also incorporated some discussion of video, the emerging video sector (see Chapter 3) set up its own parallel magazine, appropriately called Independent Video, in 1982 which in the spirit of inclusivity covered political activist work as well as video art.66 Developing Touring Initiatives By contrast the problems of non-selective distribution were raised as an issue at LVA far sooner. Within a couple of years of setting up, LVA co-founders and members were already debating the practicalities of non-selective distribution. As Stephen Partridge has explained: [P]eople would come in to consult the collection or library and of course the first thing they’d say was ‘show us some good work’. And you were immediately in a problematic 146

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situation because you were put in an editorial or curatorial position and the LVA ethos didn’t allow you to do that.67 In 1979 Partridge and other LVA members argued that the ethos had to change if the organisation was to establish credibility and develop. But others remained committed to a broad policy of inclusivity and any major changes were initially resisted (see Chapter 3). Nevertheless, since 1978 LVA had held regular screening programmes in London, with the AIR basement gallery briefly becoming their ‘home’ venue when they were offered its use on a full-time basis towards the end of 1982. According to former distribution worker Jane Parish, there was enormous enthusiasm within LVA which fuelled an intensive exhibition programme at the venue throughout 1983,68 commencing in the January with an ambitious installation show. As a result, during that year, it became the key London venue for showing and seeing video art, with post-screening discussions helping engender debate around the developing art form. Like the LFMC, LVA workers and members also regularly compiled packages for overseas festivals, particularly for the very active European circuit but also for events in North America. Workers would frequently accompany the packages, and Parish recalled taking work to MOMA in New York, the Scan Gallery in Japan and the Pompidou Centre in Paris. After nearly a year of running the AIR gallery on a full-time basis, however, not only had audiences started to decline,69 but the commitment had seriously overstretched LVA’s resources and made it difficult to sustain the original energy and enthusiasm. As exhibition organiser Jeremy Welsh reported to the Arts Council: ‘[T]he setting up of the AIR Basement as a permanent gallery for video seemed a logical step, but the costs involved in doing this, in terms of both hard finance and administrative time and effort, have far outweighed the value of having such a resource.’70 Thus, at the end of 1983 they gave up their tenancy of the venue.71 At the same time, the Arts Council started expressing dissatisfaction with LVA’s exhibition policy, arguing it was inadequate to raising the public profile of video art.72 Furthermore, as the library grew LVA realised that, due to the sheer numbers of videos submitted, they needed to more actively select or curate the work in some way.73 As Parish has observed: It was something that over time had become more and more apparent. You just couldn’t hold all this stuff and just sit there. Because in fact, by having open access and not promoting certain tapes you were just sitting on all this stuff, and just saying that ‘we’re here, have a look’! Well, where do you start?74 Welsh, like Partridge, felt editorial control and some notion of ‘quality’ were crucial if they were to build the credibility of the organisation, especially as they started to develop an international client base.75 In February 1984 therefore, LVA submitted a funding application to the Arts Council in which they proposed merging their distribution and exhibition activities into a ‘promotional bureau’, entirely separate from other LVA activities.76 While they would continue 147

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to service individual bookings,77 the new ‘bureau’ would direct its main energies towards more active forms of promotion78 and an increasing emphasis would be laid on curated programme packages intended for ‘touring, sale, and ultimately, broadcast’.79 While they would maintain a London presence by mounting events and exhibitions in the city, there would be ‘an accent on promotion of video nationally through touring programmes’.80 Although LVA had not previously engaged in their own touring activity, in 1983 they had administered two touring packages on behalf of the Arts Council. The first was an ‘American Video’ package, compiled by Mark Nash under the Arts Council’s modular scheme. As discussed in Chapter 1, this scheme had been proposed by LFMC member Guy Sherwin in 1980 to stimulate exhibition proposals from outside the Arts Council.81 The second was a package of recent British video that had been compiled by LVA member Stuart Marshall originally for The Kitchen in New York, but was subsequently toured under the Arts Council’s new ‘umbrella’ scheme (see below).82 Hence LVA had witnessed first hand the considerable success such touring initiatives could have. In the face of the Arts Council’s criticism of their previous exhibition policy, Welsh argued that devoting their energies to touring their own packages would be a more effective use of resources. Working with venues nationwide that were already in receipt of exhibition funding removed the burden from LVA of financing their own exhibition space, while giving their exhibition initiatives a far wider potential reach.83 Furthermore, LVA had found ‘packaged programme’ business far easier to administer than processing multiple individual bookings.84 However, the funding requested by LVA was substantially higher than their previous annual exhibition grant, and the Arts Council was not convinced the revised policy would be any more effective and hence rejected the proposal.85 When LVA applied the following year, again for funding to ‘shift programming onto a national scale’,86 the proposal was again rejected – this time on the grounds that the proposed programmes and packages were not particularly imaginative or inspiring.87 But of course, by this time the Arts Council had started supplying programmed packages itself under its new umbrella scheme – supposedly because LFMC and LVA did not wish to do it.88 Despite these setbacks, LVA nevertheless pushed ahead with some of its plans to become more promotional, trying to find a productive way forward vis-à-vis the funding and resources that were available for their distribution and exhibition activities. Frustrated at seeing touring packages fielded from other sources with considerable success while unable to attract funding to field their own, in April 1985 they introduced a ‘two-tier’ distribution model as a way of accommodating their open acquisitions remit while starting to engage in selective promotion.89 This split the collection into Active and Archive sections, and inclusion in the former meant: [S]pecial publicity and promotional material will be published on these tapes, preview screenings will be organized and they will be promoted for festivals and possible television screenings. … We will undertake to produce good quality stills from the selected works and where necessary include extracts of the work in promotional compilations. To partly

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cover the extra costs incurred … LVA will be changing its percentage commission from 33% to 40%.90 Everything else was distributed more or less as before, sans particular promotion, but now listed in only the briefest way in the catalogue.91 Under this new model a viewing panel made selections for the Active list, and based their decisions in part upon whether tapes had ‘the potential to build upon and broaden the audience that exists for video art’.92 But the continuing significance of the inclusiveness traditional to the independent sector was quickly demonstrated when LVA was obliged to defend its reputation against bitter charges of cliquism and hypocrisy in Independent Video.93 Nonetheless LVA continued with their new policy. They also started selling work to television (see Chapter 3) and concentrated more effort on collaborative high-profile curated exhibitions – such as the ‘Channel 5’ (1985) and ‘Channel 6’ (1986) shows at multiple sites across London, as well as ‘Scanners’ (1986), a large-scale video event at the AIR gallery. Eventually they undertook some ad hoc touring initiatives, touring part of the ‘Scanners’ exhibition, for instance, to Manchester, Derry and the Montbelliard Festival in France, while in 1987–88 they mounted a major touring exhibition, ‘Genlock’, which combined newly commissioned tapes with a selection of international and historical work. However, when Parish and Welsh both left LVA in 1987 and were replaced with only one staffer, the organisation was unable to continue pursuing such initiatives. The major appeal of touring initiatives like the Arts Council’s modular and ‘umbrella’ schemes, and LVA’s ‘Genlock’ exhibition, was their potential for getting the work out into and around the regions, especially to places and people who didn’t normally enjoy access to such work. The strategy in fact has a long history and enables work to reach a far wider audience than would be possible via distributors’ traditional core markets, giving it a far higher public profile.94 So while LVA always had an exhibition presence in London and processed bookings for the educational and festival markets, the ‘Genlock’ package was planned to tour Portsmouth, Bristol, Liverpool, Lincoln and Glasgow.95 Similarly, Nash’s ‘American Video’ not only played in London, but toured Brighton, Falmouth, Leicester, Sunderland, Edinburgh, Leeds, Preston, Exeter and Cardiff;96 while Marshall’s British video package toured Preston, Leeds, Exeter, Northampton, Swindon, Nottingham and Colchester.97 LVA was sufficiently impressed with both programmes to list them in their 1984 catalogue and advertise on the back cover that they provided ‘pre-packaged programmes of contemporary & historical video art’. Importantly though, curated touring initiatives offered a ‘complete package’ to venues. Firstly, work was purposefully selected and packaged in meaningful ways to offer a structured and coherent programme. So ‘Genlock’, for instance, was designed to ‘illustrate the different ways in which the testimonial or monologue form has been explored by artists’.98 Film and Video Umbrella programmers Michael O’Pray, Cordelia Swann and Steven Bode have also stressed the importance of devising an appropriate running order to ensure audiences new to avant-garde film and video are not alienated by the more challenging pieces and can make 149

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connections across the work included.99 As Bode, long-time Director of the Film and Video Umbrella, has observed: There are definite routes into understanding and enjoying this kind of work and we try to make each programme of work hang together in the same way you would with – although I hesitate to say it – a television programme. So there’s a ‘rhythm’, there’s a beginning, a middle and an end. There’s a sense in which people are brought into a theme and into a subject area. We don’t just plonk ten tapes together without giving the audience any way of trying to make sense of these.100 Secondly, funding allowed both bespoke programme booklets or leaflets with contextualising information to be produced and speakers (be that the curator, a filmmaker or critic) to tour with the programmes to introduce the films and facilitate post-screening discussions, both of which were designed to help audiences engage with the work. Indeed, in his contribution to the LFMC Working Party documents, Leggett had identified the same three factors – structuring the programme, providing appropriate programme information and having a speaker – as crucial to mounting any programme of avant-garde moving image work in order to build audiences for it. While the use of supporting information and discussion also became a well-established practice in the educational sector for introducing independent work to audiences (see Chapter 2), some film and video makers had always preferred to accompany screenings to facilitate audience engagement with the work, and this was a practice long established at the LFMC. As Leggett has asserted: ‘Some of the conversations I had with audiences were so inspiring – you could feel gateways opening up. That dialogue with the audience was crucial.’101 However, the ability to provide the ‘complete package’ is usually very limited without access to dedicated resources to support the activity. Furthermore, the ‘complete package’ was particularly attractive to regional venues. It removed both the burden of curation and the need for specialised knowledge: venues were provided with everything they needed, making it very easy for a hirer with little knowledge of the avant-garde to programme the work. Speakers often functioned as a draw, not only increasing audience sizes for the work but swelling box-office receipts as well.102 As Jane Parish has observed, as a distribution model and promotional strategy, such packages bore no comparison to the unwieldy all-inclusive catalogue.103 Indeed, the Arts Council had pursued Sherwin’s modular scheme proposal partly because it responded ‘to the needs expressed by many arts centres, galleries and colleges, for ready-made small-scale packages of films and video’.104 Just as importantly, however, the hire costs of these touring packages were always heavily subsidised. Charged at a distributor’s full rental fees, hiring a programme of avant-garde work was usually more expensive for a venue than booking one feature-length film. Even with the ‘complete package’ avant-garde programmes were still likely to attract relatively small audiences, so low prices helped encourage venues to take the financial risk of booking them.105

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Indeed the Arts Council’s Film-Makers on Tour (FMOT) scheme was effectively a variant of this touring package model (see Chapter 1) – allowing filmmakers to travel, present and discuss their work at venues around the UK while reducing the financial risk to the booking venues by subsidising the hire charge – and within a few months of its launch in 1977, it inspired LFMC member Leggett to set up what became a series of South West Independent Film Tours. At the time Leggett was teaching at the art college in Exeter, and when institutional resources permitted he invited filmmakers to come, screen their work and talk to his students. The FMOT scheme introduced a useful external mechanism by which to fund this activity as and when required, and was in fact extensively used by educational institutions (see Chapter 1). But since a round trip to Exeter from other parts of the UK was a major time commitment, Leggett felt it made sense, firstly, to shift any FMOT bookings from the college into a public venue where a wider audience could participate and benefit, and, secondly, to expand such visits into mini regional tours for the filmmakers.106 For the first tour in 1977 – which ran from October to December – he approached Exeter Central Library and several other venues around the South West, particularly in Devon and Cornwall. Rather than administer the tour himself, he constructed a list of venues that had expressed interest, drew up a list of filmmakers, including information about the kind of work they made, and then put them in touch with one another: On that basis, the venues could select from these filmmakers, depending on funds available. I can’t quite remember how the dates were juggled but a mechanism was set up in order to identify when these people would be in the area and on that basis, the tour was put together. Once the connection was made and the dates were finalized, then it was a matter of the filmmakers and venues liaising directly between themselves.107 In contrast to the FMOT scheme, which drew most of its participants from the LFMC’s membership and a particular tradition of avant-garde film practice, Leggett wanted to engage a more general audience with a broader range of ‘independent’ practice.108 Echoing the approach employed in 1975 at both the ‘First Festival of British Independent Film’ and ‘The Video Show’, Leggett compiled a list of participants for the 1977 South West tour that included Berwick Street Collective members Humphrey Trevelyan and James Scott, BFI funded filmmaker Laura Mulvey, Scottish filmmaker Margaret Tait, and video artist Tony Sinden, as well as a number of LFMC filmmakers.109 Because some participants were not eligible for subsidy under the FMOT, Leggett also had to seek funding from the British Film Institute (BFI), South West Arts and the Scottish Arts Council to facilitate and subsidise the tour. In addition to Exeter Central Library, participating venues included art galleries and arts centres, as well as a regional film theatre and a film society, and were located in Bristol, Exmouth, Plymouth, Dartington, Falmouth, St. Ives and Penzance.110 With a total of nine participating venues and some screenings attracting between 80 and 100 people, the overall initiative was perceived sufficiently successful to be followed by four further South West tours, although the subsequent ones also included ‘retrospective’ 151

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programmes presented by critics.111 Furthermore, the Arts Council and the BFI jointly recommended the South West initiative to other Regional Arts Associations as ‘a useful model for the efficient deployment of subsidy, time and effort’ that could be emulated across the regions.112 For Leggett, this success demonstrated the enormous potential for reaching wider audiences when filmmakers were prepared to actively participate in the distribution and exhibition of their work. The experience fuelled his dissatisfaction with the growing passivity of the LFMC membership and directly informed the Working Party initiative discussed above. He also endeavoured to pass on the lessons learnt – especially the need for filmmakers to work closely with screening organisers and the importance of good publicity – to the wider ‘independent’ constituency.113 Nevertheless, while the South West Film Tours offered a broader the range of work than the FMOT scheme, it still involved a form of selection and hence exclusion. In contrast to the all-inclusive catalogue, such initiatives always raise the thorny issues of how to establish the criteria for selection and the extent to which they marginalise those not included. But it is difficult to dispute the effectiveness of curated touring initiatives as a promotional strategy for reaching and – importantly – engaging wider audiences. Although experiences inevitably varied, screening reports by filmmaker Sue Clayton, who participated in the 1980 South West tour and screened The Song of the Shirt (1979, co-directed by Jonathan Curling), testify to the diverse mix of the audiences and to the wide ranging and engaged nature of the post-screening discussions that on the whole characterised the tours.114 As Leggett has commented: ‘[T]he audiences who came willingly to see this type of work, whether it was work out of the Co-op or the Berwick Street Collective, were delightful to be a part of because the flow-on was so rich.’115 In the 1980s, two organisations in particular – in contrast to the various constraints experienced by the LFMC and LVA – employed the strategy and, like the South West tours, enjoyed considerable success at raising the public profile of the work they were promoting: Circles, the women’s film and video distributor, and the Film and Video Umbrella. Indeed the latter was initially set up as an in-house Arts Council scheme specifically to exploit the strategy and demonstrated how effective it could be with the support of sustained public funding and access to an established exhibition circuit. Circles, the Modular Scheme and Maya Deren Circles was founded in 1980 by Felicity Sparrow in conjunction with a number of women filmmakers.116 Like Cinema of Women (COW), it was set up as part of a wider feminist movement to ensure films by women got seen, but the impetus for it stemmed primarily from Sparrow’s experience of working at the LFMC and also partly from Lis Rhodes’ experience of helping plan the 1979 Arts Council exhibition ‘Film as Film’, held at the Hayward Gallery in London. When the LFMC had moved to Gloucester Avenue in 1977, the new premises provided a space where people could meet and socialise. A group of women – both Co152

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op members and others – began to meet there to discuss a range of issues, but gradually discussion became focused on the forthcoming ‘Film as Film’ show. Initially Rhodes was the only woman involved in planning the exhibition, had decided to focus on the history of women’s filmmaking and invited Sparrow to collaborate. They chose to concentrate their research on Alice Guy, Germaine Dulac and Maya Deren, and called for more women to be involved. In response Annabel Nicholson was invited to join the official exhibition committee alongside Rhodes, and a number of other women joined with Sparrow to form a wider group. While the exhibition was intended to re-examine the historical avant-garde cinema, explore understudied areas and make connections to contemporary practice, the group of participating women found the exhibition’s framework, as defined by the Arts Council, too limiting. Although it allowed filmmakers like Deren and Dulac to be presented, it brought to the fore the problem of trying to adequately deal with women’s creative practice within the context of a wider historical survey. They felt the filmmakers’ work was [being] seen only in relation to the articulation of abstract/formal film. We were concerned that these women would be inaccurately ‘defined’ by the concepts that they had been chosen to illustrate and we felt a necessity to re-locate their work within the context of their own concerns, giving it a complexity and fullness that the ‘Film as Film’ exhibition denied by excluding: Dulac’s contribution to the feminist movement; her interviews with women artists expressing their struggle for recognition; her belief in a specifically feminine creativity; her political involvement in the unionisation of film workers and support for the popular front before World War II; Deren’s (embarrassing) involvement with Voodoo; the relationship between her writing and her films; her interest in science, anthropology and religion; her attack on Surrealism.117 When they were unable to present their research and women’s film work in a way that allowed a reconsideration of women’s filmmaking history, Rhodes, Nicholson, Sparrow and the wider group of women withheld their contribution to the exhibition in a gesture of protest. At the heart of their objections was the issue of ‘not being left free to characterise our own contributions’118 – of not being free to re-describe and re-think their own history nor able to show that process. This concern to challenge the way in which women’s work tended to get categorised – often highlighting only a small proportion of their overall activity – was also key to the founding of Circles. While the Women’s Movement gave rise to various important strands of feminist filmmaking – with COW becoming a key distributor of documentaries dealing with women’s issues and feminist feature films (see Chapter 2) – Circles wanted to open up a space for other forms of filmmaking. As Sparrow has observed: [Circles] wanted to recognize films that weren’t necessarily agitprop films … to recognize films that wanted to articulate a different kind of film practice, that weren’t necessarily so easy to consume because perhaps they were trying to articulate something different. That 153

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didn’t mean to say that one ignored feminist concerns – they were just not necessarily openly articulated in the films.119 In a similar vein, Circles resisted the rigid compartmentalisation of experimental film and video art – embodied in the setting up of LFMC and LVA as distinctly separate organisations – and embraced both film and video work, as well as initially slide and performance work. Furthermore, in direct contrast to the LFMC’s non-selective distribution practice, Circles was unashamedly promotional in its approach. For Sparrow, these factors made Circles ‘revolutionary’ when it was set up. Just as importantly, however, the new organisation filled a gap in the market, in that it offered a home to work made by women that fell outside the concerns of COW and could not be adequately distributed within the practices of the LFMC and LVA. Hence Circles tended to specialise in contemporary avant-garde material, but also played key role in bringing historical titles – such as those by Guy, Dulac and Deren – into UK distribution. Initially Sparrow ran Circles from her flat on a voluntary basis, but like LFMC, The Other Cinema (TOC), LVA and COW accessed occasional funding to help with the costs of catalogue production, equipment and purchasing prints,120 and later moved to an office above Four Corners film workshop in the east London borough of Tower Hamlets. Like the LFMC and LVA, she got films into festivals, arranged screenings and processed hires. But the promotional remit of Circles also allowed her to actively develop film sales – initially to local authorities and the educational market,121 and subsequently to Channel 4 – which generated significant income for the organisation. As the business grew, Sparrow was able to take on staff to deal with basic administrative tasks, film checking and dispatch work, which allowed her to concentrate on pursuing new acquisitions that she could convert into further sales, along with other promotional activities. In particular, Circles’ was able to make use of the Arts Council’s modular scheme to undertake touring programmes. In response to the scheme’s opening call for applications in 1981, Sparrow submitted a proposal for a touring initiative entitled ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’, mixing contemporary and historical women’s work from Circles’ distribution library: Joanna Davis’ Often During the Day (UK. 1979), Alice Guy’s A House Divided (USA, 1913), Germaine Dulac’s The Smiling Madame Beudet (France, 1922) and Lis Rhodes’ Light Reading (UK, 1979).122 The flexibility of the scheme allowed Sparrow and her co-applicant Lis Rhodes to do with ‘Her Image Fades’ what the parameters of the ‘Film as Film’ exhibition had rendered impossible: to re-consider women filmmakers within the context of their own concerns. As they explained: We shall try to make explicit the links and fractures between four films made by four women whose lives and work belong to different times and different places – different languages even – but whose voices are placed within similar constraints. We all experience these constraints but most women are allowed no time or space to reflect upon them.123

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Like Leggett, Sparrow and Rhodes viewed structuring the programme, as well as providing appropriate programme notes and wherever possible a speaker, as crucially important. Indeed, Sparrow would test out the coherence of her promotional package ideas via preview screenings in Four Corners’ cinema and used the ensuing discussions to inform the programme notes.124 In the case of ‘Her Image Fades’ this led to an eight-page booklet outlining the theme of the programme and highlighting connections between the films. Launching in May 1983, the package toured nine venues over a ten-month period, screening in London, Bristol, Hull, Bracknell and Sheffield, and was the second most booked modular package out of the four that were launched in the scheme’s first twelve months of operation.125 This kind of exposure could then result in such packages continuing to be booked fairly regularly for anything up to two or three years after the initial tour had ended. Around the same time Sparrow was also collaborating with Judith Higginbottom to help mount a five-film touring programme of Maya Deren’s work in the South West during June 1983.126 Higginbottom was running the Exeter Film Workshop and, following the model initiated by Leggett, she arranged a small-scale one-week tour to community cinemas, arts centres and art schools in Bristol, Falmouth, Plymouth, Newent and Exeter. With support from both South West Arts and the Arts Council, Higginbottom was able to produce a programme booklet and accompany the films on the tour, speaking about Deren’s work and chairing a discussion at each venue.127 While the tour enjoyed a mix of audiences – including people interested in Deren as an artist, those interested in her as a dancer, or who had read her anthropological writings, as well as a more conventional film audience – it had been packaged as a feminist project.128 It was not an attempt to ‘rehabilitate’ Deren as a feminist filmmaker but rather, as Higginbottom explained in her programme booklet, designed to ‘welcome her into a history which recognizes the work of women film-makers and the importance and strengths of their concerns when those concerns differ from those of male film-makers’.129 As a result, according to Higginbottom, the tour also attracted a substantial ‘women’s audience’ who were interested in Deren’s films in the light of contemporary feminist work. The success of this regional tour suggested there was scope to target a wider audience. Audiences had averaged around 35–40 people, and although not all of the five hundred programme booklets had been distributed in the course of the tour, the remainder had quickly been sold in response to subsequent requests. Indeed, such was the visibility and interest achieved by the South West tour that Higginbottom’s package was also booked later in the year by venues in Penzance, Bath, Cardiff and Newport, with audiences averaging around 60.130 Thus in February 1984 Sparrow and Higginbottom submitted a joint application to the Arts Council’s modular scheme to launch a national Deren tour.131 As one of the last packages funded under the modular scheme, the Deren programme toured extensively, including to Kendal, Swansea, Liverpool, Glasgow, Ipswich and Manchester, and then continued to be available for hire as a package via Circles throughout the 1980s. Higginbottom has argued that for an audience who had never encountered the filmic avant-garde, Deren’s work is particularly accessible due to its apparent timelessness, 155

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its poetic quality, and the beauty of the images. She frequently found the tours attracted audiences who had never seen the work before, but were able to start ‘forming their own ideas’ very easily: For example, you could get someone saying that when they watched them, they saw a woman describing her own interior reality, or felt the films were dealing with time and tides. Those are the sorts of responses I find most encouraging – when it’s obvious that people have really started thinking for themselves. I’ve experienced that so often with Deren’s work.132 As a result, she found that the package of Deren’s work often functioned as a ‘gateway’ for audiences to engaging with more ‘difficult’ experimental work.133 Film and Video Umbrella: Accessing and Building Tour Circuits Just as Sparrow and Higginbottom were applying for funding to tour the Deren package nationally, the Arts Council was in fact winding up the modular scheme.134 Although it had generated a number of excellent packages,135 the scheme had proved expensive to run due to its commitment to purchase prints specifically for the tours to avoid tying up distributors’ prints and disrupting their regular business. Furthermore, since the scheme had been specifically designed to fund exhibition proposals from outside the Arts Council, a regular supply of ‘quality’ proposals could not be guaranteed. It was felt that many of the proposals submitted suffered from ‘lack of coherence, lack of objectivity and no real sense of targeting towards particular audiences’136 and as a result did not sufficiently address the needs of venues, who needed to be provided with ‘approachable ways into what for many is a totally unknown, or at best confusing area’.137 In 1983, a new film and video ‘umbrella’ initiative – loosely based on the Dance Umbrella – was tabled by Arts Council Assistant Film Officer David Curtis as a replacement for the modular scheme.138 The new initiative would save money by using distributors’ existing prints for short-life programme tours, while quality and quantity would be guaranteed by the Arts Council’s animateur – a post which had been introduced to assist with tours and programming initiatives around the country. However, shortly after the proposal was accepted by the Artists’ Film and Video Committee (AFVC), the Arts Council’s current animateur Simon Field left for New York, leaving the new ‘umbrella’ scheme unsupported. It was therefore agreed to offer a short-term part-time bursary to Michael O’Pray139 – at the time editor of Undercut – to take on running the new scheme for nine months. Commencing August 1983,140 the ‘umbrella’ scheme effectively combined the old modular scheme and animateur role to ‘provide venues with a balanced series of events throughout the year, by coordinating the touring of programmes devised by the Arts Council and by other film/video exhibitors and distributors’.141 As part of his role, O’Pray was to coordinate the bookings and 156

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provide venues with advance publicity, background information and documentation. Under this arrangement O’Pray could have administered the national Maya Deren tour, but as it had been conceived as a feminist project Circles were keen to distribute and promote the package themselves and did so in parallel with the new ‘umbrella’ scheme.142 The key drive to mounting what became the Film and Video Umbrella was the desire to ‘get avant-garde films back on the agenda in Britain, particularly outside London’.143 Although the South West film tours had been very successful, by the early 1980s, according to O’Pray: ‘[with regard to the wider public profile of experimental moving image work] we realized that unless you lived in N1 or NW1, Islington, it was very dead out there’.144 LVA was still a relatively young organisation whose exhibition policy was already receiving criticism from the Arts Council. The LFMC had only just survived the major rent-deficit crisis of 1980–81 and, although it had launched Undercut and started the annual preview show, was consumed with internal feuding resulting from the imposition of an administrator, and still sensitive about territory with regard to the Arts Council’s promotional initiatives145 (see Chapter 1). The FMOT scheme had been used primarily by educational institutions rather than public venues, while the modular scheme as a whole had met with only limited success, and was still servicing a significant number of educational institutions.146 But this problem could not simply be laid at the door of idealistic, non-promotional distributors and artists. After the ‘Perspective on English Avant-Garde Film’ tour (1978–80), the Arts Council had directly provided the touring packages ‘Stan Brakhage: An American Independent FilmMaker’ (1980–81), ‘Unpacking 7 Films’ (1980–82) and ‘Films by American Artists’ (1981– 84), before budget cuts in 1982–83 forced a rethink.147 Rather than rely on reactive policies such as the FMOT and modular schemes, or renew the more expensive one-off tours like ‘Unpacking 7 Films’, the Arts Council looked to extend the proactive model of its animateur scheme – compact, centrally organised and open-ended – to make a concerted push to extend the availability and visibility of the work it supported. As Assistant Film Officer Curtis reported to the Arts Council in September 1983: Artists’ Film and Video are seriously disadvantaged by lack of appropriate facilities and of staff who are experienced in the presentation of these media in art centres, galleries and even cinemas. The [Artists’ Film and Video] Committee has therefore identified ‘exhibition’ as a major area of need.’148 Combining and extending the animateur and modular schemes into the Film and Video Umbrella (FVU) would be the Committee’s most significant response to this. The first Umbrella tours, launched in autumn 1983, exploited pre-existing programmes: a package of work and personal appearances by American animator Robert Breer since he was already coming to the UK for an engagement at Cambridge, a scaled down version of a recent ‘Cubism and the Cinema’ season organised by Curtis and A.L. Rees for the Tate, and the package of recent British video curated by Stuart Marshall mentioned above. This was largely pragmatic, and partly organised before O’Pray’s appointment to ensure touring 157

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activity continued during the transition to the new Umbrella scheme. But once in post, O’Pray started to actively seek out material from both distributors and filmmakers, as well as exploiting the availability of particular material, publicity opportunities and personal contacts, to compile a range of new and often eclectic programmes. As the Arts Council continued to renew his bursary, he went on to curate between four and six touring packages annually for several years, combining both historical and contemporary work. These included ‘German Forms and Tales’, ‘Surrealist Traces’, ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’, ‘Subverting Television’, a Derek Jarman package entitled ‘Of Angels and Apocalypse’, ‘Alchemists of the Surreal’ (which included films by Jan Svankmajer and The Quay Brothers), a package of found footage films entitled ‘Junk Aesthetics’ (which included Bruce Connor’s films) and ‘Deeper into the Labyrinth’ (a further package of Svankmajer films). In the first two to three years of the scheme Umbrella packages screened in a substantial number of locations across the UK, including Edinburgh, Preston, Manchester, Nottingham, Derby, Northampton, Leicester, Luton, London, Oxford, Colchester, Canterbury, Brighton, Swindon, Bristol, Portsmouth, Plymouth, Exeter and Cardiff, and a number were starting to also book to overseas festivals and events. Although some packages did book to a range of venues – and indeed the Umbrella initiative was initially publicised as being aimed at ‘regional cinemas, arts centres, colleges and galleries’149 – the main tour venues became the British Film Institute’s regional film theatres. By the scheme’s third year the average number of bookings per tour had risen from around seven to about 10–12,150 although if a package proved particularly popular – as the Svankmajer ones did – it could be well in excess of that.151 Indeed, at the beginning of 1986, O’Pray reported there had been over 100 screenings across six packages in the preceding twelve months – which, as he pointed out, averaged out to two packages of Umbrella material being screened per week in the UK.152 These figures rose the following year to a total of 181 screenings, averaging out at 3.5 screenings per week.153 Although audience sizes inevitably varied – usually ranging between 15 and 80, but rocketing to 150–300 for festival screenings and the ‘Alchemists of the Surreal’ tour – the tours dramatically increased exposure for avant-garde moving image work across the UK. Thus in 1986 O’Pray reported to the Arts Council that: ‘It is obvious that the Umbrella is fulfilling an important role in film exhibition and distribution in this country.’154 Several factors contributed to the success of the Umbrella scheme – not least the provision of ‘complete’ packages and the discounted hire charges that played a key role in persuading venues to book them. Like Higginbottom and the filmmakers who participated in the South West tours, O’Pray toured with many of the packages and found audiences appreciative of the opportunity to see such work.155 But like Leggett, Critchley and the LFMC, he also found that simply persuading venues to book the packages did not guarantee an audience. Sparrow had similarly discovered that venues could be unreliable when it came to doing publicity for screenings and included A2 posters as an ‘essential’ item in her budget for the national Deren tour.156 For the same reason O’Pray would often work with programmers, as Leggett had recommended, to ensure the packages were built into a venue’s overall programme – possibly tied into educational courses or linked with other screenings or workshop activities 158

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– as well as being properly advertised. Some programmers were more willing than others to undertake this kind of promotional activity, and O’Pray found it beneficial to devise three packages for each tour. This gave the work a greater presence and not only provided a venue with greater motivation to ‘sell’ the work to their audiences, but also increased the likelihood of local press coverage.157 Equally important to the Umbrella’s success, however, was its relationship with the British Film Institute (BFI). The BFI had already developed a number of its own initiatives – including the Film Availability Service’s subsidies for distribution prints – to ensure the exhibition of a wider range of moving image work in the UK.158 The Institute initially offered O’Pray informal support by facilitating access to its Regional Film Theatres (RFTs) through its Regional Programming Unit, since the Umbrella’s packages helped the regional theatres diversify their programming. In 1985 the BFI formalised their support by investing £3000 per annum in the Umbrella159 – which they increased to £5000 the following year160 and subsequently to £8000161 – on the understanding that the FVU would programme one or two packages per year drawn from BFI’s own film and video holdings. O’Pray also began working more closely with Jayne Pilling and Paul Taylor in the BFI’s Distribution Division to plan the tours, so that the RFTs soon became established as the major exhibition circuit for Umbrella packages, with a core group – which included Bristol Watershed, Edinburgh Film House, Metro Cinema Derby and New Cinema Nottingham162 – taking virtually every package produced. Thus the Umbrella very successfully tapped into a pre-existing, wellestablished exhibition network for its programmes.163 In a 1986 report to the Arts Council O’Pray stressed the importance of this circuit in enabling the Umbrella packages to reach a wider public and help de-marginalise avant-garde film and video.164 Not only did a wider audience get to see the work, but BFI involvement could also help ensure that the work was written about. A couple of years later, when the Umbrella and BFI jointly launched a package of George Kuchar films, ‘Hold Me While I’m Naked’, the Institute’s own Monthly Film Bulletin ran a feature and reviews of the programme to coincide with its opening at London’s Scala cinema.165 The package went on to tour 16 venues around the UK, playing multiple dates at many of them, and attracting average audiences of between 40 and 50.166 The BFI for their part were pleased with FVU’s contribution to helping improve RFT performance – especially via the ‘mega-hit touring programmes, “Alchemists of the Surreal” and “Deeper into the Labyrinth”’167 – and by the late 1980s felt their involvement with the Umbrella had borne ‘handsome fruit’.168 The perceived mutual benefits led to the Institute providing additional assistance with particular packages – such as the programmes of Derek Jarman, Jan Svankmajer and Bruce Connor films – by assisting with acquiring prints, contributing to the documentation and helping with publicity.169 Since the Umbrella was essentially run for several years via a single bursaried post, as an initiative it was highly flexible and this was quickly valued as a major advantage.170 It meant that O’Pray could organise additional events at short notice when the opportunity arose – such as arranging a mini-tour for visiting German filmmaker Klaus Wyborny and assisting with a lecture tour for P. Adams Sitney. He was also able to spend a significant amount of 159

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time on the look out for new work and could respond quickly to developing interests or trends with new packages – as was the case with the ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’ package and the Scratch video programme included in the ‘Subverting TV’ package. Indeed, O’Pray reported to the Arts Council that the interest in and popularity of the new Scratch work during 1985 was largely due to the speed with which the Umbrella had been able to tour it.171 For O’Pray, part of the excitement of running the Umbrella scheme was being able to pick up new, less visible creative directions as they emerged – like the above-mentioned Scratch and the Recent British Super 8 packages, as well as new filmmakers like Andrew Kötting and Patrick Keiller172 – which extended his advocacy role in the LMFC’s Undercut. For the Arts Council, the scheme was not only very economic to run, but had opened up a productive collaboration with the BFI and also given them clear measurable evidence of reaching wider audiences in terms of the number and geographic spread of venues toured, audience size and feedback from speakers and programmers. However, there was also a physical limit to the extent of Umbrella activity, even with the additional BFI funding. Indeed, as early as February 1986 O’Pray reported that ‘the Umbrella’s activities are outstripping its resources’.173 While he remained on an annual bursary, he was also constrained by a relatively small budget and unable to plan more than a few months in advance. At the same time, while the RFT circuit had played a crucial role, there was a limit on the number of programming slots available in the course of a year and the speed with which films could be transported around the country. Further, as the Umbrella usually utilised distributors’ prints, there was a limit to the time O’Pray could tie up those prints in a tour.174 While the Umbrella had made significant inroads into certain urban centres, in 1986 O’Pray also noted there were several major cities – including Glasgow, Newcastle, Leeds, Liverpool, Sheffield and Birmingham – in which their packages had failed to get booked and argued that additional time and resources were required to remedy that.175 Furthermore, the Artists’ Film and Video Committee (AFVC) had identified ‘an urgent need to establish the identity of film/video as an art form; and to extend its visibility in art galleries’ (our italics), and it had been hoped that the Umbrella scheme would address this.176 O’Pray’s use of the RFT circuit had, however, meant that exposure for the packages had been primarily via cinema. He had had some success with the Tate and a handful of other galleries, and the former LFMC cinema programmer Cordelia Swann joined the Umbrella briefly in 1985–86 to assist with targeting galleries and other underdeveloped areas of activity.177 But the fact that there was no established gallery circuit, no equivalent to the BFI’s centralised booking and programming service for the RFTs, meant that accessing galleries as exhibition venues was very time consuming. Although some galleries were interested, they often lacked the necessary finances, expertise and equipment to mount moving image exhibitions on a regular basis and would have needed far more intensive support to take Umbrella packages.178 At the same time, while Umbrella packages had very successfully raised awareness of experimental film, aside from the ‘Recent British Video’ and ‘Subverting Television’ packages, they had done little to promote the developing field of video art. This was partly due to the lack of access to galleries, but also because very few RFTs had video 160

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projection at the time – indeed the ‘Subverting Television’ package had been booked by only two RFTs (Bristol and Derby) and played primarily at festivals, clubs and colleges.179 In order to expand the Umbrella’s activities, the in-house scheme was re-launched in spring 1988 as an independent company with its own office. Transforming the Umbrella into an annual revenue client allowed the Arts Council to pass on the AFVC’s entire share of the Arts Council’s national touring funds,180 as well as substantial additional funding via a newly established Video for Galleries initiative.181 Although funding was still awarded on an annual basis, the Arts Council committed to recommending funding continue for at least two additional years,182 giving the new company more scope to forward plan. As part of the expansion, Jeremy Welsh – who had left LVA in December 1987 – was also recruited to both increase the exposure of video and develop the gallery market for moving image work generally. More or less immediately, the new FVU sent out a detailed questionnaire to galleries and arts centres around the UK to research ‘the opportunities for increased exhibition of video in particular, and time based work in general’.183 54 responded and by June 1988 Welsh was starting to arrange meetings with gallery curators. A number of galleries flagged up ‘the difficulty and expense of obtaining and maintaining video equipment’ as a ‘major obstacle’ to undertaking video exhibition, and Welsh started exploring possible ways of solving this problem.184 At the same time, he collaborated with EDGE 88, an international festival of performance, installation and video staged across various London venues in September 1988, to present a self-select videotheque called The Observatory. Along the lines of LVA’s ‘open access’ show at the Acme Gallery in 1980 (see Chapter 3), The Observatory was a short-term public access ‘exhibition’ of 27 videos. During the EDGE 88 festival ‘[t]here were over 250 individual requests for tapes … and approximately 500 visitors in 11 days’, and after the London run, it went on to tour venues in Manchester, Bracknell and Cambridge.185 Alongside the ongoing film packages,186 two curated video packages were included in the 1988–89 touring schedule – a programme of Bill Viola tapes developed in collaboration with Riverside Studios in London, and Electric Eyes, a three-programme package of recent British work. These two packages continued to tour the following year, attracting total bookings of 12 and 21 respectively.187 In addition, February 1989 saw the launch of the Umbrella’s first touring video installation exhibition, The Suitcase Show, which visited venues in Preston, Aberdeen and Wolverhampton. As a follow-up to the questionnaire, Welsh also arranged a one-day conference for Liverpool’s first major Video Positive festival in February 1989. Called ‘Exposure’, the conference was designed to bring together gallery curators to try and help develop video exhibition in galleries.188 The transition from a small-scale bursary initiative to an established independent organisation was, however, not without its problems. To start with the Umbrella had to adjust to a new relationship with an Arts Council that expected ‘value’ for their increased funding and set some clear priorities. In June 1988, when the new organisation had envisaged providing ready-made packages for galleries,189 the Arts Council reminded them of ‘the importance of the Umbrella establishing its collaborative exhibition-making role 161

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with galleries’.190 The following December, at their first assessment meeting as an annual client, the Arts Council stressed the requirement of clear plans and specific targets for future growth in terms of expanding the market for the Umbrella’s packages and services.191 Furthermore, O’Pray found that the increased administrative workload resulting from the Umbrella’s new set up impacted negatively on the time available to develop and promote the touring packages. This, combined with a feeling that the particular initiative he had developed – single screen film packages for cinema exhibition192 – had possibly run its course, resulted in O’Pray resigning before the end of the decade.193 O’Pray’s departure was followed by Welsh’s in the latter half of 1990, and they were replaced by Steven Bode (formerly video editor for City Limits and a commissioning editor for Independent Video) and former LFMC cinema programmer Moira Sweeney. Although O’Pray and Welsh joined the Umbrella’s Board of Directors, this change-over, so soon after the Umbrella had expanded, took two to three years to bed in, with a resulting temporary fall-off in the level of activity. It also coincided with the BFI discontinuing their funding for the Umbrella at the end of 1991, since they felt its activities were no longer such a good fit with their own.194 When Sweeney subsequently left, under Bode’s management the Umbrella began developing a new identity for itself as ‘a predominantly video-based organisation’.195 While it continued to produce touring single screen packages, it also invested more time in working collaboratively with galleries and the Video Positive festival to develop exhibitions which showcased not only video work, but increasingly the emerging new media art facilitated by digital technology.196 Nevertheless, during the two and a half years that Welsh was at the Umbrella, he experienced it as a far more productive environment than LVA. While he already had extensive experience of working with galleries, the many competing priorities of LVA (see Chapter 3) had set frustrating limits to his ability to develop the area.197 Indeed, his final project at LVA, the ‘Genlock’ touring package, was aimed at galleries and became ‘a testing out of the model we started to work with at the Umbrella’.198 Beyond being able to concentrate specifically on developing video exhibition, being specifically funded to do so was another welcome change. Although, ‘things like that had already been talked about for quite a long time within LVA, [it] had never had the resources, either human or financial, to turn that into a reality’.199 Thus Welsh had the freedom to work with particular artists and to work strategically with particular galleries, without the risk of overstretching an LVA exhibition budget that was not funded for such uses.200 Getting work into key galleries and arts centres around the country – like the Cornerhouse in Manchester, the Harris Museum in Preston and Kettle’s Yard in Cambridge – not only helped raise the public profile for artists’ moving image work by making it more physically accessible, but also helped – as with O’Pray’s exploitation of the RFT circuit – generate a public discourse around the work by attracting media coverage. Indeed, within nine months of the Umbrella becoming independent, the Arts Council observed that the organisation was ‘beginning to perform well in its expanded role’.201

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Conflict and Competition At one level, it is possible to argue that the Film and Video Umbrella (FVU) should have enjoyed a complementary relationship with distributors like the LFMC, LVA and Circles. On the one hand, the latter could maintain their collections as extensive and valuable resources for use by external curators and programmers (such as those at FVU) as before, deal with the distribution of individual titles and television sales, and concentrate more of their energies on their other activities – for which they seemed more readily able to attract funding (see Chapters 1 and 3). On the other, the Umbrella was funded to do the labourintensive work of building the public profile of avant-garde moving image work: selecting and compiling packages, working with venues, arranging tours and organising exhibitions, together with providing contextual information and speakers to help build up and engage audiences. Instead, the Umbrella came into conflict with a number of distributors. Almost immediately, for instance, the return to using distributors’ prints caused friction with Circles when their only print of Lis Rhodes’ Light Reading (1978) was used for the 1983 ‘Cubism and the Cinema’ tour. Due to the popularity of the film, Circles allowed the print to be used on condition they were able to service other bookings in between the tour dates. But a mix up in dispatch arrangements at one of the venues on the Umbrella’s tour resulted in Circles being unable to honour one of their own bookings, and an attendant loss of income, reputation and trust in the Umbrella.202 Thus, like the Filmmakers on Tour scheme (FMOT), the Umbrella could hardly help functioning as an alternative point of supply for the same prints. This potential for conflict was compounded by the discounted hire charges the Umbrella offered to entice venues to book unfamiliar material. While much of the Umbrella’s subsidy was pumped into putting together the ‘complete’ packages and promoting the tours, as with the FMOT, offering the package at a substantial discount to the distributor’s normal hire fees was a key part of the strategy. Initially the funding available to enable the Umbrella to lower the hire costs to venues – what O’Pray termed the ‘subsidy for programmes’ – was an openly acknowledged part of the scheme. As O’Pray explained to the Arts Council in 1984: The Umbrella depends fundamentally on being able to offer packages of short avant-garde work rented [from distributors] at roughly 50p per minute in England. Thus 90 minutes costs at least £45 and more as very short films are more expensive. Work from abroad, eg Germany is about £1 per minute – £90 for 90 minutes. Feature films or mainstream experimental work eg Bunuel, Cocteau, Franju can be more expensive making subsidy much higher.203 For the coming year, he thus proposed that the Umbrella’s hire charges to venues – pegged at £40 a programme – be subsidised by a total of £5000.204 In 1986 he reported that while the Umbrella’s income from programme hire was £1925, its own expenses in hiring the films 163

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and tapes for onward hire to venues were £4692 – showing that more money was going into lowering prices than was being made back in hires.205 Given that this was the economic base that supported the Umbrella, as its capacity, success and funding rose and rose through the 1980s, it was arguably only a matter of time before the existing distributors perceived it as a serious threat. Ironically, it was partly pressure from the Arts Council to earn more income, increase the charge to venues and thereby minimise the ‘subsidy for programmes’206 that obliged the Umbrella to try to confront this problem by lowering the prices they were themselves paying to distributors. While O’Pray quickly reassured the Arts Council that the new, independent FVU would raise its price per programme from £40 to £45,207 only a few months later the Umbrella noted that this ‘most attractive [price] to venues’ which ‘will in general allow us to break even financially’ was under pressure from the LFMC’s own standard hire charge, which had risen from 50p to 75p per minute.208 Nonetheless, in 1988–89 – just a year after becoming independent – the Umbrella managed to come out £20 ahead on a programme hire income of £6908,209 the sheer difficulty of which ought not to be underestimated. Given that, to be able to continue to offer ‘cheap rates’ to the venues, the Umbrella became dependent on distributors and artists discounting their normal hire charges, and that the two largest distributors of artists’ film and video were increasingly unwilling to accept this, it is not surprising that O’Pray has argued that an essential part of his role as Umbrella organiser was the ability to ‘do deals’.210 Whether the Arts Council preferred to acknowledge it or not in the late 1980s, offering discounted prices on the packages was a key part of the strategy that the Umbrella inherited from the Arts Council’s own past initiatives (see Chapter 1). While the Umbrella tried doggedly over the next ten years to make these ends meet by increasing hire charges to venues, their success was very limited. Prices per programme were raised from £45 to £50 in 1990,211 to £70 in 1991212 and to £75 in 1992,213 only to be lowered in 1993 to £65,214 where they were still sitting in 1999.215 This goes some way towards illustrating the sheer difficulty encountered by generations of promoters attempting to increase the visibility of this work, and construct some kind of economy that sustains the activity and reimburses the artists (see Chapter 5). The pressures on the Umbrella in this are clearly illustrated by their need, in 1993, to further discount the work of Bill Viola, one of the best known and respected video artists in the world, on the basis of needing to ‘pitch things at what […] the cash-strapped British venues are prepared, or can afford, to pay’.216 But while artists from Viola to Kötting were sometimes prepared to show flexibility in this,217 as the Umbrella’s capacity expanded and all funded and funding bodies were subject to increasing ‘value for money’ directives, some distributors proved far less willing. As early as 1991, Head of BFI Distribution Heather Stewart was only reluctantly assenting to hire films at £1 a minute to the Umbrella’s ‘Dance Film Dance’ European tour. This was on the basis of honouring a prior agreement, and she warned that ‘in future charges will be much higher’.218 The LFMC’s attitude was no more friendly, and when in 1990 the Umbrella attempted to argue that it deserved a discount on hires in return for generating bulk bookings of LFMC titles, the extent to which the two organisations’ 164

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interests were not complementary but deeply at odds became clear. Despite any difficulties with price inflexibility, the Umbrella had continued to book work from the LFMC. In 1990 they had already booked six titles for an Andy Warhol tour, and five for a Kenneth Anger tour, before basing the entire ‘Metaphors, Monologues and Landscapes’ package on the LFMC’s 1989 London Film Festival programme.219 As the launch of the ‘Metaphors’ tour drew near, and the LFMC would have to remove the booked titles from their collection, LFMC Distribution organisers Tom Heslop and Tony Warcus took the opportunity to write to FVU asking for a meeting to deal with the traditional problem of conflict over access to prints and a new complaint about belated payments for past tours.220 The letter suggested an arrangement allowing LFMC access to prints loaned to Umbrella tours between Umbrella bookings and insisted that films would not be released for ‘Metaphors’ until back debts were cleared. In response, Jeremy Welsh reiterated the value of the Umbrella to LFMC Distribution, pointing out how the amount of time and money FVU had dedicated to promoting programmes and securing bookings for LFMC films allowed the Co-op to receive blocks of rentals for essentially a single transaction. Insisting that FVU could only pass hire fees back to the LFMC after venues had finally paid the Umbrella, Welsh further upped the ante by noting the expense of LFMC titles relative to FVU’s hire fees to venues and repeated Michael O’Pray’s faux pas of suggesting that extra prints be found if conflict with touring packages was so bad.221 After the mix-up with Circles copy of Light Reading in 1983, O’Pray had suggested that Circles purchase extra prints, drawing a stinging response from Felicity Sparrow.222 In a similar vein, LFMC Distribution’s response was to bluntly reiterate its refusal to supply the ‘Metaphors’ prints until ‘a new booking and payment system has been set up’, and to start showing the titles to other hirers.223 An increasingly irate correspondence continued for some months, in which FVU challenges such as ‘I find it hard to believe that you will get more money from individual bookings of some of these films than you would get from a whole tour’,224 and pleas that regional promotion could only be undertaken by reducing hire rates,225 only served to harden the LFMC’s position. The contract that LFMC eventually offered FVU contained only one compromise, that on repeat screenings LFMC waived the minimum £10 per film hire charge. Other than that it maintained current LFMC pricing, mandated full payment within two months of a tour’s end lest LFMC withhold prints, allowed for the LFMC to access some ‘long films’ during tours if FVU had no conflicting booking, and, in what had become the quite regular event of a tour being extended, guaranteed the LFMC access to any prints needed to service bookings already made.226 The LFMC Distribution team’s apparent lack of interest in compromising with the Umbrella may, however, go deeper than the extent to which an ever-expanding, discounted touring programme could operate as competition to a distribution collection. In 1989 Heslop and Warcus had made LFMC history by convincing the AGM to allow LFMC Distribution organisers to select and promote touring packages, and they had lost little time in approaching the Arts Council for subsidy to do so.227

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Best Model In February 1990 the Arts Council was happy to report that every other relevant funder – the BFI, Greater London Arts, the London Borough Grants Scheme and Channel 4, meeting as the London Funders Group – had recognised the Umbrella ‘as the best model for future investment in independent sector distribution/exhibition initiatives’.228 Potentially, this was exceedingly bad news for independent distributors like LFMC, LVA and Circles, as they were structured completely differently from FVU and would have great difficulty remedying that. Even if they did, following through on the funders’ apparent sidelining of the value of distribution collections, the question would remain of where then the works would come from – what organisation would guarantee their availability to agencies such as FVU? The fact that this coincided with continued exhortations to earn more income (see Chapter 5) upped the stakes in the matter when the ‘best model’ was virtually incapable of earning any net distribution income. The FVU’s budget forecast for 1990–91 was to spend £60,000 of funding to earn a gross distribution income of £10,000 and net distribution income of £1500.229 It was not until 1995 that FVU met its ‘earned income target’ of 23 per cent,230 but even in 1990 this apparent contradiction of the ‘best model’ being so heavily dependent on subsidy only draws attention to why it was so favoured. This was less about earned income than about the key ambition of Arts Council funded promotional schemes already noted above: to ‘get avant-garde films back on the agenda in Britain, particularly outside London’, to combat the situation that O’Pray found on helping set up FVU in 1983 that, with regard to the wider public profile of experimental moving image work, ‘unless you lived in N1 or NW1, Islington, it was very dead out there’.231 The Umbrella’s success in this was why it was so valued and, although it was expected to produce a balanced budget that predicted a net distribution income, it was valued for guaranteeing numbers of shows and volume of audience. At the time that the newly independent, expanding Umbrella was on its way to ‘best model’ status, Welsh has described the Arts Council’s chief aim in directing so much funding their way as ‘Bums on seats’.232 By working with venues and addressing the geographical spread of shows, Welsh and O’Pray were prepared to try and deliver that, and ... give some kind of guarantee of quality and professionalism in the way that we curated and promoted and marketed the packages that we were dealing with. It was serious. We would get this difficult work out to a lot of places where it might not otherwise get seen and we would contextualise it in a way that was artistically and intellectually defensible and we would engage with venues on a national and regional basis to try to cultivate an audience for those kind of programmes.233 The example of the Umbrella shows the difficulty and labour intensiveness of undertaking this task at all, not to mention expanding it at the rate that the Umbrella managed. But, as the number of ‘complete packages’ annually, and the time that they were kept available, grew without exception year on year, it is not surprising that the other distributors saw 166

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the Umbrella as a direct competitor precisely because of its effectiveness and capacity. This alone might have been enough to precipitate a clash, but because LFMC, LVA and FVU were all dependent on funding, and all the funders were issuing directives to ‘increase earned income’, they were left with little option but to pressure each other. The LFMC were just as obliged to raise their hire rates and attempt to get the most distribution bookings from their prints as the Umbrella was to seek discounts and try to hold onto those same prints even longer. Add to that the funders’ openly stated enthusiasm for loss-making promotional work over distribution, and the stage was set for FVU to be directly challenged in its own field of operations. Unsurprisingly, LVA showed immediate concern in 1988 when it found its former exhibition organiser Jeremy Welsh had been employed by FVU to take video art to galleries. While an LVA-FVU meeting of June 1988 was inconclusive, by March 1989 LVA Distribution worker Marion Urch received the backing of the Committee of Management to refuse to supply FVU with tapes requested ‘for third parties to screen on a very long basis’.234 The emerging conflict started to develop into more general competition between the two organisations when, as a result of a management consultancy undertaken by Comedia (see Chapter 3), LVA undertook an internal reorganisation in 1989. This enabled LVA to channel some resources into entering the touring package market, directly encroaching on FVU’s territory. This had an almost immediate impact, in that as a result FVU felt the touring market was ‘flooded’ in 1990.235 While they expressed some concern, at this stage FVU did not regard the rival activity as a serious threat since they felt LVA was constrained by its wider range of commitments. However, the Umbrella felt the issue became more serious in 1995, when they discovered that over a twelve-month period, the Arts Council had funded four new LVA touring packages – only two less than the Umbrella were expected to produce over a comparable period as their core funded activity.236 As with the 1990 conflict with LFMC, this resulted in an irate series of letters, but this time from the Umbrella to the Arts Council, again over a period of months. At their annual review with the Arts Council, the Umbrella had just committed to enhanced audience and venue targets, and had been subject to the perennial exhortation to increase earned income.237 This was two years after they had essentially given up trying raise prices to venues, dropping their price for the first time from £75 to £65 per programme,238 and then further discounting some of Bill Viola’s work to £50. This, combined with a softening of their prices for UK VHS tape sales and overseas rentals and sales, suggests the FVU were experiencing difficulty finding bookings, let alone earning income. Thus a great deal was riding on the FVU’s ability to access UK venues, and one thing they did not need was a subsidised competitor with a growing capacity to service those same venues. Whilst the Umbrella clearly felt it was not being treated fairly by the Arts Council, it’s possible to argue that LVA’s more concerted move into the touring package market was at least in part fuelled by the perception that FVU had started to behave like a distributor. With the Umbrella’s film tours, it had been fairly clear-cut that the prints were on loan and at the 167

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end of a tour they had to be returned to the distributor. With video, however, because of the ease of duplication, tours could be lengthened with little physical inconvenience to the distributor and packages could also be made available for sale. When the Umbrella became ‘a predominantly video-based organisation’, the Arts Council was able to increase their performance targets. From the early 1990s FVU’s annual grant was conditional upon not only launching a higher number of new touring projects, but also continuing to tour five projects from previous years.239 At the same time LVA’s proactive new Marketing Manager Michael Maziere was sinking energy into securing regular LVA screenings at the ICA, and reporting that ‘exhibition is very important to create a cultural context for the work; although it isn’t financially rewarding it provides the basis for a developing audience’.240 LVA’s list of markets for hires was also close to FVU’s: ‘galleries, festivals, education institutions, museums and independent cinemas’.241 Thus creating promotable packages of work from the LVA collection was part and parcel of Maziere’s job.242 Simultaneously, FVU were looking to respond to Arts Council demands for higher earnings by expanding their core activities to take on and promote the work of a small number of artists, around 12–20, each year; to tackle TV sales for those artists; and to move into VHS sales of tape packages, especially targeting the educational sector.243 The Arts Council was quick to respond to each organisation with directions to prevent them from becoming mirror images of each other. On the one hand, the Umbrella was told that the move into distribution proper was ‘premature’ for the newly independent organisation, and it was suggested they concentrate on the core activity of touring programmes, for which they were funded.244 On the other, LVA were told to prioritise TV sales above all else, for which they had likewise been funded245 (see Chapter 3). Understandably, the Arts Council did not want to fund two organisations to undertake the same activities, but given that FVU continued to offer their packages for VHS sale in the UK and abroad, and LVA went on to build its touring capacity until the collision in 1995, the Arts Council seem to have been less successful than they might have hoped in preventing each organisation expanding into the adjoining territory. Indeed, the inability to resolve this conflict flags up the artificiality of the separations imposed. FVU’s backlog of ‘short run’ (and then far longer run) ‘complete packages’, with their careful programming and contextual material, presented a defacto distribution collection that could be repurposed for sale (see Chapter 7). LVA’s (eventually) funderbacked Active Distribution model and traditional exhibition function legitimately involved them in packaging work and cultivating venues, though the uneconomical aspect of regional touring prevented them moving very far without funder support. The attempt to separate these different kinds of distribution activity only served to demonstrate the closeness of their connection and highlights the importance of multiple approaches to the promotion of non-mainstream moving image work. Television exposure raised the public profile of a number of artists and achieved viewing figures far in excess of anything the FVU achieved via the RFT circuit, galleries or arts centres. However, it was frequently impossible to directly measure the quality of viewers’ engagement with the work (see 168

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Chapter 3). By contrast, while touring packages accessed far smaller audiences, direct observation or participation by curators, speakers and programmers testified to their impact on audiences. Both avenues contributed to building audiences for the work in different ways, yet both involved selection from and exclusion of far wider bodies of work. Whilst the initial open access acquisition policies of both the LFMC and LVA were crucial to growing those bodies of work, precisely as they grew selective promotional practices became prioritised as a matter of sheer necessity. Yet these selective and exclusionary activities continued to rely on the wider bodies of work collected and maintained in the distribution libraries. Maintaining the availability of works in the longer term was a compelling enough motivation that even the lean and promotional FVU simply wound up doing it by extending package availability, sometimes for several years. But in a funding climate that privileged the performance indicated by promotion, LVA and LFMC’s rich and productive collections – the bedrock guarantee of the availability of the work held there – increasingly became a burden. The collections were extensive enough that neither could afford to produce catalogues internally with volunteer labour the way that LFMC had for its smaller 1960s era collection. But, as mentioned earlier, producing a catalogue – a tolerably up to date guide to the entire collection – is one of the most basic functions of a distributor and universally associated with an upsurge in bookings. Yet LFMC waited from 1977 to 1993 for sufficient funding to produce a catalogue for ‘one of the best stocked [avant-garde] film libraries in Europe, if not the world’.246 LVA, fresh from producing an innovative catalogue shaped by their new Active Distribution policy, must have been depressed to be told by the Arts Council that their ambition to produce catalogues annually was ‘impractical and wasteful of resources’.247 Given the general blindsiding of the needs of distribution that the lack of interest in catalogue production represents, and the allfunder anointing of the FVU’s collection-light model, the LFMC and LVA can be forgiven for seeing that competing directly with FVU for packaging and touring funds was essential to maintaining their own visibility as distributors, and thus that of their collections. The FVU’s fracas with the Arts Council in 1995 shows how anxious the Umbrella was about their ability to generate as many bookings as they had been obliged to promise, if any other body was offering a significant supply of similar work in a similarly attractive, discounted, ‘complete package’. That is, there were very few more bookings to get in the UK other than the ones that FVU already intended to. This is something that the Umbrella was in a better position than anyone to know. If this was their attitude to four touring packages issuing from LVA, what must the distributors’ attitude have been to a constant stream of long-life, heavily promoted and subsidised packages from the Umbrella, in what the Umbrella itself termed a ‘not exactly infinitely-expanding touring market’?248 What was a touring market for the Umbrella was also a distribution market for the LFMC and LVA – that is, venues who might hire their work and present it to the public.

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Notes    1. ‘Non-commercial’ and ‘independent’ were the terms that the LFMC used in their documentation and catalogues throughout much of their history. See for instance, London Film-Makers’ Cooperative Newsletter, February 1969, p. 1; London Film-Makers’ Co-op catalogue, 1977. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection. ‘About the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, October 1987 ‘Crisis!’ flyer: 2. Source: Cinenova (Circles files, Incoming Correspondence 1987– 88).    2. It should be noted, however, that the motivation to do so was also informed by other reasons as well. The LFMC adopted an open access policy partly in response to their exclusion from the established film and arts sectors, while LVA pursued that route partly as a condition of funding (see Chapters 1 and 3). David Hall has also stated that he viewed LVA’s approach in the early days as more a case of taking work into distribution on a trial basis; see David Hall, in interview with Peter Thomas, 17 March 2005.    3. LFMC, Application for Assistance to the BFI, Summer 1975: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.    4. ‘About the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, 1987, op. cit. It should be noted, as discussed in Chapter 1, that in fact the LFMC Distribution office did not have prints of many of the films listed in their catalogue since, as the prints remained the property of the filmmakers, the filmmakers were at liberty to ‘borrow’ their own films to service non-LFMC bookings – a tendency that was exacerbated by the Film-makers On Tour scheme. Given the nature of video technology, however, the same issue did not arise for LVA.    5. Michael O’Pray, ‘Canadian Films at the Co-op’ programme notes, undated: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU).    6. Stephen Partridge, in interview with Peter Thomas, 15 March 2005.    7. See, for instance, Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Mike Leggett, July 1977: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC) and Partridge, in interview with Thomas, 2005, ibid.    8. For the LFMC, it was also partly an acknowledgement of the ‘radical context’ in which the LFMC body of filmmaking had developed and a desire to resist the hegemonic tendency to ‘present independent film making in terms of individual achievements’. Annabel Nicholson, ‘London Film Makers’ Co-operative’, Edinburgh Film Festival Catalogue, 1975, n.p. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, /LFMC Various Documents).    9. ‘About the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, 1987, op. cit.   10. David Critchley, in interview with Peter Thomas, 23 March 2005. This concern also helped precipitate a split in the founding LVA group (as noted in Chapter 3) between those who wanted the organisation to become more focused and professionalised by becoming a private company, and those who wanted LVA to remain open and public.   11. See for instance Mike Leggett, ‘Memo to the Arts Council Artist Film Committee, re: Arts Council Distribution’, September 1977. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 4).   12. Mick Kidd, in interview with Peter Thomas, 29 June 2005; Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   13. Chris Kennedy, David Finch, Anna Thew, Simon Field, ‘Distribution – Future Policy Statement from Sub-Committee’, October 1982: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 170

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  14. See for instance, ‘Distribution Report’: 1–2, included with ‘Application for Financial Assistance’ submitted to the Executive Committee of the BFI, 19 March 1976. British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC-BFI 1975–82); and ‘Distribution – Future Policy Statement from Sub-Committee’, ibid.  15. Ibid.   16. See Comedia Consultancy, ‘London Video Artists Management Review’, November 1988: 15. Source: Film London (LFVDA files, Lux Build & ERDF papers); and Jeremy Welsh, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2005.   17. Comedia Consultancy, ibid.   18. See for instance, Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Patrick Delabre, 13 October 1977, regarding a French filmmaker’s text for the first catalogue supplement, which requests a revised entry since the English translation of the filmmaker’s original French text was nonsensical. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   19. The LFMC’s 1993 catalogue notes this as a 1978 catalogue, but surviving LFMC documents suggest it was published in April-May 1977. See for instance Felicity Sparrow, letter to Tom Chomont, 29 March 1977. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Felicity Sparrow, letter to Mike Leggett, July 1977. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC). The actual catalogue is undated.   20. By 1982, with just 5 supplements to the 1977 catalogue, a distribution sub-committee reported this was becoming unwieldy for hirers. See Chris Kennedy, David Finch, Anna Thew, Simon Field, ‘Distribution – Future Policy Statement from Sub-Committee’, 1982, op. cit., p. 3.   21. See Sparrow, letter to Chomont, 1977, op. cit.   22. Sparrow, letter to Leggett, July 1977, op. cit.   23. Indeed the preview shows presented a similar problem. They were initially funded by the Arts Council, who eventually withdraw their funding because, while popular, like the all-inclusive catalogue they were limited in their effectiveness as a form of promotion. David Curtis, in interview with Peter Thomas, 6 August 2003.   24. Felicity Sparrow, in interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003.  25. Mick Kidd, Anna Thew, LFMC Distribution, ‘Distribution 1980’, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC). By 1984 filmmaker Roger Hewins argued that although the catalogue was a valuable reference tool, as a means by which to facilitate use of the Co-op’s films it was redundant. Hewins, ‘Directions in Distribution – a paper for discussion’, March 1984: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut, Co-op documents).   26. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005. In a similar vein, Anthology Film Archive had also initially refused to let the LFMC distribute Joseph Cornell’s Rose Hobart (1936) because ‘there was some doubt as to whether the Co-op was a satisfactory distribution agency’. See Ian Christie, Regional Programme Adviser, British Film Institute, letter to Anthology Film Arhive, 13 October 1978. Source: courtesy of the Lux. See also Tim Cawkwell, letter to David Finch, LFMC, 1 February 1983, in which Cawkwell states ‘I get virtually nil bookings outside FMOT’. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   27. See for instance, Andrew Noren, USA, letter to LFMC, 7 April 1975. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   28. Jonas Mekas, letter to LFMC Secretary, 14 August 1976. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   29. Deke Dusinberre, Distribution Office, LFMC, letter to Jonas Mekas, 15 September 1976. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   30. Mekas, letter to LFMC, 1976, op. cit. The distributor in question was the new Artificial Eye.  31. Ibid. 171

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  32. David Finch, LFMC Distribution, letter to Joanna Kierman, 25 August 1982. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   33. Anna Thew, in interview with Peter Thomas and Duncan Reekie, 29 June 2005.   34. See for instance, ‘Distribution – Future Policy Statement from Sub-Committee’, 1982, op. cit., p. 3. Jane Parish, former LVA distribution worker, reported the same problem with their catalogues. Parish, in interview with Peter Thomas, 21 September 2005.  35. London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Distribution Report, October 1978: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC).   36. Mike Leggett, in interview with Peter Thomas, 8 February 2004; Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. It should be noted, however, that many filmmakers reported very positive experiences with the Film-Makers On Tour scheme (see Chapter 1). See also David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, letter to Brian Hoey, 15 December 1980 which relates video artist Peter Donebauer’s experience of an audience of two in Newcastle. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 3).   37. See for instance, Minutes of Arts Council Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, 5 March 1984: 7. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9). Jon Dovey and Jo Dungey, The Videoactive Report (London: Videoactive, 1985). Source: courtesy of the Lux. The Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy: The Cultural Industries, 1985. Comedia Consultancy, 1988, op. cit. Boyden Southwood/ Comedia, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’, October 1989. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.   38. LFMC, Application for Assistance to the BFI, Summer 1975: 7–8. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.  39. London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Distribution Report, October 1978: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC).  40. Sparrow, in interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003. See also Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Bruce Baillie, 9 January 1978; Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to George Kuchar, 1 February 1978, p. 2; Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Stan VanderBeek, 27 September 1978; and Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Manuel de Landa, 5 September 1979. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   41. Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Chris Garratt, 14 October 1977. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/sparrow771014.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   42. See for instance, Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Klaus Wyborny, 3 March 1978; and Sparrow, letter to VanderBeek, 1978, op. cit. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   43. Sparrow, letter to Kuchar, February 1978, op. cit., p. 1.   44. See for instance, Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to George Landow, 17 January 1978; Felicity Sparrow, LFMC Distribution, letter to Ernie Gehr, 14 February 1978. Source: courtesy of the Lux.  45. Sparrow, in interview with Thomas, 2003; London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Distribution Report, October 1978, op. cit., pp. 1–2. Nigel Algar, BFI, letter to George Landow, 11 May 1979. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   46. See London Film-Makers’ Co-operative Distribution Report, October 1978, ibid., p. 3.   47. Thew, in interview with Thomas and Reekie, 2005, op. cit.   48. See for instance, Chris Kennedy, David Finch, ‘Half-Yearly Report from Distribution’, 8 October 1982. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC). 172

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  49. Mike Leggett, ‘Memo to: The Executive Committee of the London Film-Makers’ Co-operative; The Membership’, 7 May 1978. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC).  50. Mike Leggett, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op: Distrib. Exhib/ Working Party – Some rough minutes for meeting on 27.1.79’, p. 1. British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC, Working Group).   51. The original group also included Malcolm Le Grice, Jeanette Iljon, Stuart Pound and A.L. Rees, but had reduced to MacKay, Nicholson, Dunlop, Stoneman and Leggett by the first meeting in January 1979. See Mike Leggett’s memo to ‘London Film-Makers’ Distribution and Exhibition Working Party’, December 1978. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC). Leggett, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op: Distrib. Exhib/ Working Party – Some rough minutes’, 1979, ibid.   52. Rod Stoneman, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op Working Party: Catalogue Proposal. Draft II’: 1. British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC Working Group). See also Leggett, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op: Distrib. Exhib/ Working Party – Some rough minutes’, 1979, ibid.   53. Rod Stoneman, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-op Working Party: Publications’: 2–3. British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC Working Group).   54. Mike Leggett, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-operative: Guidelines for Film-Makers and Renters (Draft 1.: 11.3.79): 3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC Working Group).   55. See, for instance, Mary Pat Leece, LFMC Distribution, letter to Robert Breer, 11 April 1979. Source: courtesy of the Lux.   56. The exception was the proposal for a new style catalogue, and this was largely practical because they still had over 1000 copies of the 1977 catalogue left.   57. LFMC Extraordinary General Meeting (Working Party Reports). Oct 79’. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC).   58. Sue Hall and John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins, in interview with Peter Thomas, 25 February 2005.   59. Thew, in interview with Thomas and Reekie, 2005, op. cit.   60. LFMC, Draft constitution sent to Jonas Mekas, July 1966: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, LFMC Various Documents 1966–98).   61. Ibid., p. 1.   62. In 1971 their third issue, for instance, was devoted to ‘Third World Cinema’. In particular it published Getino and Solanas’ article ‘Towards a Third Cinema’ as well as an article about their film The Hours of the Furnaces (Argentina, 1968), which TOC had screened at the 1970 Edinburgh Film Festival (see Chapter 2).   63. See for instance Peter Sainsbury, in interview with Peter Thomas, 9 December 2004; Kidd, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit; David Curtis, ‘English Avant-Garde Film: An Early Chronology’ in Michael O’Pray (ed.), The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926 to 1995 (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey/Arts Council of England, 1996), pp. 113–15. As Curtis points out, that coverage was often written by the filmmakers themselves.   64. See Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999), for a discussion of the relationship that developed between the IFA community and Screen in terms of developing a discourse around the practices and interests of IFA members.   65. Although its appearance was slightly erratic, there were 19 issues in total, running from 1981 through to 1990. Wallflower Press published an anthology in 2003 which reprinted a selection of its articles: Nina Danino and Michael Maziere (eds), The Undercut Reader – Critical Writings on Artists’ Film and Video (London & New York: Wallflower Press, 2003).

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 66. Independent Video was published by the Video Workshop at South Hill Park Arts Centre in Bracknell until its demise in 1991. It changed its name to Independent Media in 1986 to enable it to address a wider body of practice and the following year the ACGB funded a regular 16-page artists’ film and video section.   67. Partridge, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   68. Parish, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. Both David Hall (in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.) and Jeremy Welsh (in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.) also commented on the enthusiasm and ‘buzz’ at LVA in its early years.   69. This was at least partly due to the newness of the art form, which meant that – compared to film – there was a relatively limited supply of material until the boom in video production later in the decade.   70. LVA 1984–85 Revenue Application to the Arts Council, 1 February 1984: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9).   71. Ibid., p. 2.   72. Arts Council, Minutes of AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 7.   73. Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.; Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   74. Parish, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   75. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   76. LVA 1984–85 Revenue Application, 1984, op. cit., p. 3. Jeremy Welsh has argued that part of the problem was also that the diverse interests of LVA made it difficult to devote sufficient time and energy to particular activities. Separating the distribution and exhibition activities from the organisation’s other activities was envisaged as a way of addressing that problem. Welsh, ibid.   77. LVA 1984–85 Revenue Application, 1984, ibid., p. 5.   78. Ibid., p. 2.   79. Ibid., p. 5.   80. Ibid., p. 2.   81. Guy Sherwin, Proposal for a Modular Film Exhibition Programme – For Discussion, June 1980 and June/September 1980; Guy Sherwin, letter to David Curtis, ACGB, 19 February 1982. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). ACGB, Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video SubCommittee, 27 October 1980: 2–3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 6).   82. David Critchely, LVA, letter to David Curtis, ACGB, 2 March 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU).   83. LVA 1984–85 Revenue Application, 1984, op. cit., p. 3.   84. Parish, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   85. Arts Council, Minutes of AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., pp. 7–8.   86. Jeremy Welsh, LVA, ‘An Art of Fragments: video in the nineteen eighties’, Exhibition application sent to David Curtis, Arts Council, February 1985, p. 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 10).  87. See Minutes of the Arts Council Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, 13 March 1985: 7–8. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 10).  88. David Curtis, ‘Artists’ film and Video – A briefing paper for AC/BFI/OAL negotiators’, 16 October 1991: 8. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1987–1993, box 2). 174

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  89. Jane Parish, LVA circular, 12 April 1985. Source: courtesy of Steve Littman. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   90. Parish, LVA circular, 1985, ibid.   91. See the change in format between the 1984 and 1987 catalogues. The 1984 edition attempts to promote the field in general through 23 pages of contextual essays, followed by 11 pages of fairly short listings for all makers and works in distribution. The 1987 edition contains 5 pages of essays, 19 pages – containing many images – for the Active list, and 3 pages of maker/title listings for the Archive.   92. Marion Urch, ‘About Distribution’, LVA catalogue, 1987: 4. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection.  93. Jeremy Welsh, ‘LVA Bites Back,’ Independent Video 50, January 1986: 9–11, which was a response to Rhodri Kasperbauer, ‘Do Not Give My Regards to Frith Street,’ Independent Video 49, December 1985: 3.   94. An early example would the agit-prop trains used in the early years of Soviet Russia, but the Arts Council had also undertaken tours of their documentary art films to ensure they got seen in the remoter parts of the UK. And of course, P. Adams Sitney’s tour of New American Cinema in 1968 round 12 universities (see Chapter 1) functioned precisely to increase awareness of the American work across the UK.  95. London Video Arts Assessment Meeting, 19 October 1987: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   96. ‘Subsidised Exhibitions April 1983/4’: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9).   97. Mike O’Pray, ‘Recent British Video: venues and dates’, 12 January1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU).   98. ‘Genlock’ programme notes. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight.   99. Michael O’Pray, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 7 June 2005. Cordelia Swann, Report to Film & Video Committee on the tour of ‘A Camera of One’s Own’ and the progress of the tour of ‘Heroic Times’, 3 November 1986: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). Steven Bode, in interview with Julia Knight, 1 November 1994. 100. Bode, in interview with Knight, 1994, ibid. 101. Leggett, in interview with Thomas, February 2004, op. cit. 102. Michael O’Pray reported consistently higher audience numbers when FVU screenings were accompanied by a speaker. See O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit; and Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 4. 103. Parish, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op cit. 104. Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘For Your Information: A New Scheme for Artists’ Film/Video Exhibition’, undated: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). 105. For instance, O’Pray reported the screening of the Derek Jarman package in Nottingham had an audience of around eight. In interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 106. When the Filmmakers On Tour scheme is reviewed by the Arts Council four years later, the Scottish filmmaker Margaret Tait also noted the problem of one-off bookings that the scheme supported when those bookings were a considerable distance from where an artist lived, and suggested encouraging Regional Arts Associations to ‘initiate tours of a dozen or so locations in their own areas’, 7 December 1981: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 2). 175

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107. Leggett, in interview with Thomas, February 2004, op. cit. See also Mike Leggett, ‘A Potential Audience’, South West Arts, 29 May 1979, available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/ PDFs/Leggett-PA790529.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 108. Ibid. 109.  Mike Leggett, ‘Independent Film and Independent Film-Makers in Exeter’ 3 October–5 December 1978. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 4). 110. Mike Leggett, ‘Independent Film-Makers Tour the South-West: Interim Report: 11.10.1977’, IFA Newsletter. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 4). 111. The following tours took place in 1978, 1980, 1981 and 1982, two of which were organised by Rod Stoneman. 112. David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB; Geoffrey Nowell-Smith, Head Education Advisory Service, BFI; Hilary Thompson, Film Promotions Officer, Production Department, BFI; Paul Willemen, Publicity and Documentation Officer, Film Availability Services, BFI; circular letter, on ACGB headed notepaper, 3 November 1978. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/56/96, FMVAoT, box 5). 113. Leggett, ‘Independent Film-Makers Tour’, 1977, op. cit. 114. Sue Clayton, ‘Public Screenings on the South West Film Tour 1979/80’ in Rod Stoneman and Hilary Thompson (eds.), The New Social Function of Cinema. Catalogue: British Film Institute Productions ’79/80 (London: BFI, 1981), p. 126. Clayton did also report some people leaving the screening before the discussion at one venue, while Laura Mulvey reported people leaving during the screenings of Riddles of the Sphinx (1977) when she participated in the first tour (in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 June 2003). Nevertheless, the venues’ willingness to take part in four successive tours – and the funders’ willingness to fund them and promote the initiative as a model to be emulated – suggests that the overall benefits were significant. 115. Leggett, in interview with Thomas, February 2004, op. cit. 116. See Felicity Sparrow (on behalf of Circles), Application to the Artists’ Film Sub-Committee, 6 October 1980. Here Sparrow states Circles has been in existence for just over seven months and notes its income as commencing from March 1980. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 6). 117. Annabel Nicholson, Felicity Sparrow, Jane Clarke, Jeanette Iljon, Lis Rhodes, Mary Pat Leece, Pat Murphy, Susan Stein, ‘Women and the Formal Film’, in Phillip Drummond (ed.), Film as Film: formal experiment in film 1910–1975 (London: Arts Council of Great Britain, 1979), p. 118. 118. Ibid. 119. Sparrow, in interview with Thomas, 2003. Unless otherwise stated the information about Circles origins and early history comes from this 2003 interview, and a second one, conducted with Sparrow by Julia Knight and Peter Thomas on 24 June 2004. 120. See for instance, Sparrow, Application to the AFSC, October 1980, op. cit. 121. Where, according to Sparrow, sale charges would typically be three times the print cost. In interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 122. The original application was for a two-programme package, but only one was actually produced. Felicity Sparrow, Circles, letter to David Curtis, ACGB Film Office, 10 November 1981, enclosing proposal for ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). 123. ‘Her Images Fades as Her Voice Rises: Films selected by Lis Rhodes and Felicity Sparrow’, programme notes, p. 2. Source: courtesy of Felicity Sparrow. 176

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124. Felicity Sparrow, Circles, letter to David Curtis, Film Dept, ACGB, 2 March 1982. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). See also Sparrow, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 125.  ‘Subsidised Exhibitions April 1983/4’, op. cit. The other packages were ‘American Video’, ‘Working Frame by Frame’ and ‘Image and Sound’. 126. The South West tour included: Meshes of the Afternoon (1943), At Land (1944), Meditation on Violence (1948), Ritual in Transfigured Time (1946), and Witch’s Cradle Out-takes (1943). Source: courtesy of Judith Higginbottom. 127. Judith Higginbottom, ‘Report on Tour of Maya Deren’s Work for South West Arts (June 1983)’: 1. Source: courtesy of Judith Higginbottom. 128. Judith Higginbottom, in interview with Chris Rodrigues and Peter Thomas, 5 December 2003. Higginbottom, ‘Report on Tour’, 1983, ibid., p. 2. 129. Judith Higginbottom (ed.), Maya Deren: A Film Tour Re-presenting the Work of Maya Deren, June 1983 (South West Arts, 1983), unpaginated. 130. Higginbottom, ‘Report on Tour’, 1983), op. cit., pp. 1–4. 131. Felicity Sparrow and Judith Higginbottom, ‘Application to the Artists’ Film and Video Committee for subsidy towards “packaging”, promotion and subsequent touring of films by Maya Deren’, Feburary 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9). The national tour differed slightly from the South West tour in that A Study in Choreography for the Camera (1945) was substituted for Witch’s Cradle Out-takes (1943). 132. Higginbottom, in interview with Rodrigues and Thomas, 2003, op. cit. 133. Ibid. This was borne out in the course of our research – two women who worked at Circles’ successor organisation, Cinenova, both asserted that seeing the national touring programme of Maya Deren’s work had a huge impact on their interest in film. See Helen de Witt (with Kate Norrish), in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 18 November 2004; and Laura Hudson, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 November 2004. 134. Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 4. 135. During its first year of operation, for instance, the scheme funded ‘American Video’, ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’, ‘Working Frame by Frame’ and ‘Image and Sound’. See Subsidised Exhibitions April 1983/4, op. cit. 136. Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee Meeting, 18 April 1983: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 9). 137. David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, letter to Guy Sherwin, 23 March 1982. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/55/28, Modular Exhibition Scheme). 138. Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 18 April 1983, op. cit., p. 2. 139. ‘Film/Video Programming Advisor – Animateur; Short-Life Programme Tours – Umbrella’, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927– 1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). At the time, it was felt the only other qualified candidate for the job of animateur was Rod Stoneman, who was about to take up a post at Channel 4. 140. Arts Council of Great Britain, ‘Film/Video Umbrella’ press release, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 141. Ibid. 142. Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 5. 143. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 177

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144. Ibid. 145. Thew, in interview with Thomas and Reekie, 2005, op. cit; Minutes of Distribution and Exhibition Meeting Between Arts Council and LMFC, undated. Source: British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection (LFMC). See also David Finch’s (LFMC Distribution) attempts to convince filmmakers to keep prints listed in the catalogue at LFMC, put bookings through LFMC of those titles if possible, or help the distribution office service bookings of those films. For instance, Finch, letter to Tim Cawkwell, 5 August 1982 and 7 January 1983; Finch to Ken McMullen, 19 October 1982; Chris Kennedy (LFMC Distribution) to Chris Welsby, 30 May 1983. The situation was bad enough that distribution staff seem to have just assumed, not always correctly, that prints would not be present. See Kennedy to Guy Sherwin, 1 September 1982. Source: courtesy of the Lux. Finch, letter to Cawkwell, 7 January 1983, available at http://fv-distribution-database. ac.uk/PDFs/finch830107.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 146. See the extensive list of venues for Arts Council Modular packages 1983–4 in David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, ‘Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee: Outreach Report’, April 1984. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut). 147. David Curtis, Assistant Film Officer, ACGB, Paper for Discussion by the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee at its Policy Meeting held on 16 January 1984: 3; Curtis, ‘Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee: Outreach Report’, April 1984, Appendix VI: 1–2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut). 148. David Curtis, Summary of the Activities of the Artists Film and Video Committee: needs for 1984/85, September 1983: 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers, Raban Notebooks/Co-op Docs/Undercut). 149. ‘Press Screening’ for Cubism and the Cinema, scheduled for 26 October 1983. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 150. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal for Funding, February 1986’: 9. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 151. O’Pray reported the first Svankmajer package, for instance, as getting 30 bookings. See Michael O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, Report and Funding Application, April 1987–March 1988, dated January 1988: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 152. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 9. 153. O’Pray, Report and Funding Application, 1988, op. cit., p. 6. 154. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 1. 155. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 156. Sparrow and Higginbottom, ‘Application to the Artists’ Film and Video’, 1984, op. cit., p. 3. 157. Single film screenings rarely get editorial press coverage, whereas as an ‘exhibition’ or whole programme of work is more likely to attract media interest. O’Pray also reported that he always tried to get packages booked by the ICA in London, since they would give programmes a twoweek run which would ensure substantial press coverage. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 158. Ian Christie, ‘BFI Involvement in Distribution’, 10 April 1981. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–87). 159. Ian Christie, Head of Distribution, BFI, letter to Dave Curtis, Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, 20 November 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU).

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160. Michael O’Pray, ‘Report on Film and Video Umbrella, February 1986 to June 1986’: 1; Vincent Porter, Head of Distribution, BFI, letter to Mike O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, 8 April 1986; Film and Video Umbrella, Report and Funding Application for Year April 1987–March 1988: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 161. FVU Budget Forecast 1989/90: Income and Expenditure. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 162. This core group became five with the opening of Manchester’s Cornerhouse, and O’Pray has asserted that the ability of these venues to regularly book the FVU’s packages was due to the fact that – unlike the The Other Cinema’s Charlotte Street cinema (see Chapter 2) – they all had two screens. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 163. Of course Cinema of Women similarly benefited from the RFT circuit via the BFI funding for print acquisition costs for Marleen Gorris’ A Question of Silence (Netherlands, 1982) through their Film Availability Service (see Chapter 2). 164. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 5. In an earlier draft of this report O’Pray expressed this more forcefully saying: ‘This circuit of … [core] RFTs is very important in that they serve major urban areas outside London, they cater for a general audience and avant-garde work within their overall programming helps to demarginalise avant-garde film and video. … The importance of the RFTs as outlets for much of the Umbrella’s programming cannot be stressed too much.’ See ‘Venues and Exhibition’ report, undated. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). O’Pray also reiterated the point in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 165. BFI, ‘Distribution – Divisional Report, October–December 1988’: 3. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate, Box D50, A/26 Distribution 1988–89). 166. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘End of Year Report 1988–9’: 1. Source: courtesy of Film and Video Umbrella (red sleeve – Reports 89-90-91). 167. BFI, ‘Regional Film Theatre Screening Activity – July–November 1988’: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate, Box D50, A/26 Distribution 1988–89). 168. British Film Institute, ‘Distribution Division Report: July 1986–January1987’, p. 2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–87). 169. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 3; and Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Funding Application’, 1987–88, op. cit., p. 3. 170. Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 6. 171. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 2. 172. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. Kötting and Keiller’s work was featured in the ‘Dada Dada Dada’ touring package. The ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’ tour was based on LFMC Cinema and LFMC London Film Festival screenings of the material, programmed by Jo Comino and Cordelia Swann, LFMC Cinema Organiser. FVU to filmmaker form letters, 15 October 1984 and 11 December 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 173. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 1. Indeed, he had suggested two years earlier – in March 1984 – that there was scope for the post to be full-time. See Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 6. 174. Two notable exceptions to this were the ‘Recent British Super 8’ package which was sourced direct from the filmmakers and the ‘Subverting Television’ package which being video was not subject to the problems of print availability. See Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Funding’, 1987–88, op. cit., p. 2. And on a handful of occasions prints were purchased specifically for tours. See O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 179

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175. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., p. 7. 176. Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, 5 March 1984, op. cit., p. 1. Minutes of the Artists’ Film and Video Sub-Committee, held on 12 February 1986: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 11). 177. Cordelia Swann was also employed via a bursary. Due to a combination of factors, however, she left the Umbrella in 1986 after compiling only two packages – ‘A Camera of One’s Own’ and ‘Heroic Times’ – which largely toured the already established circuit of venues. See Cordelia Swann ‘Re: Report to Film & Video Sub-Committee Meeting/March 19, 1986’. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). Arts Council, Minutes of the AFVSC, February 1986, ibid. 178. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit., pp. 5–6; O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 179. ‘Tours and Events from 1st April to 17 July 1985’: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 180. Internal memo from Rodney Wilson to Ian Reid, Arts Council of Great Britain, 28 February 1990: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927– 1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 181. David Curtis, Film and Video Officer, ACGB, letter to Mike O’Pray and Jez Welsh, Film and Video Umbrella, 4 May 1988: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 182. Graham Marchant, ACGB, hand-written response to memo from Rodney Wilson, ACGB, 13 October 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 183. Film and Video Umbrella, Questionnaire for Regional Galleries, April 1988. See also Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Feasibility Study, October 1988’: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 184. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Feasibility’, 1988, ibid., p. 8. 185. Ibid., p. 4. 186. These included the George Kuchar package, as well as the ‘Dada Dada Dada’ package and a Maya Deren package under the title ‘Rituals in Transfigured Time: Maya Deren’. 187. Film and Video Umbrella Report, ‘Film and Video Umbrella 1989/90’: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 188. ‘Exposure: A one day conference on video exhibition and promotion in regional Art Galleries, Museums and Arts Centres, arranged in conjunction with Video Positive 89, Liverpool’: 1. See also Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Feasibility’ 1988, op. cit., p. 6. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 189. Michael O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella Ltd, letter to David Curtis, Arts Council of Great Britain, 22 June 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 190. David Curtis, Film and Video Officer, Arts Council Films, letter to Mike O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, 30 June 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 191. Minutes of Film and Video Umbrella Assessment Meeting, 8 December 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 192. With the exception of the ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’ package which in fact included some multi-screen work. 193. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 180

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194. Ian Christie, BFI, letter to Moira Sweeney, Film and Video Umbrella, 5 December 1991. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Correspondence 1992–93). 195. David Curtis, Film & Video Officer, Arts Council, letter to Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, 16 June 1992: 1; see also Film and Video Umbrella Directors, ‘Proposal for the Film and Video Umbrella to Continue as The Video Umbrella’, undated. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1992–93, Curtis Correspondence). 196. Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Arts Council Public Funding Survey. Reply from The Film and Video Umbrella’, July 1991. Source: courtesy of Film and Video Umbrella (red sleeve – Reports 89-90-91). 197. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 198. Ibid. 199. Ibid. 200. Soon after Welsh started at FVU, a meeting with his successor at LVA contrasted the continuing deficit of LVA’s ‘Genlock’ tour and FVU’s subsidised prices to venues. Minutes of Meeting between LVA and FVU, 24 June 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). LVA wound up the ‘Genlock’ tour a year after it started, without having made the money needed to pay contributing artists. This is despite a seminal work like Stuart Marshall’s Pedagogue having been commissioned for the tour (and included under the title A Performance by Neil Bartlett). Minutes of the LVA Council of Management, 8 March 1989: 4–5. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 201. Minutes of Film and Video Umbrella Assessment Meeting, 8 December 1988: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 202. Felicity Sparrow, Circles, letter to Mike O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, 9 December 1983. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 203. Film and Video Umbrella Application to BFI and ACGB, undated: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 204. Ibid. 205. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Proposal’, 1986, op. cit. 206. David Curits, ACGB, letter to Michael O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, 4 May 1988: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). Minutes of Meeting between FVU and LVA, 24 June 1988. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 207. Michael O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to David Curtis, ACGB, 22 June 1988: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 208. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Report and Feasibility’, 1988, op. cit. 209. Statement of income and expenditure, to 31 March 1989. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 210. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 211. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Mortal Signs: An International Video Collection’, 1990: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 212. Film and Video Umbrella Bulletin winter 1991. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (FVU old files).

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213. Film and Video Umbrella Bulletin summer 1992. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (FVU old files). 214. Film and Video Umbrella, Projected budget estimate 1993/1994. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1992–93, Project Guidelines/Proposals/Reports). 215. Film and Video Umbrella, Projected budget 1999/2000, n.p, 2pp. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1999–2000). 216. Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, fax to Bill Viola, 3 June 1993. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Correspondence 1994). It is worth noting that this was the case even though Viola’s sell-through tape of The Passing (1991), released by LVA the following year through the Édition à Voir label, sold four times as many as LVA’s other releases through this label (see Chapter 3). This demonstrates the challenges faced by both distributors and promoters in accessing public venues for this type of work. 217. Jean Rasenberger (Bill Viola assistant), fax to Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, 9 June 1993. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Correspondence 1994). See also O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 218. Heather Stewart, Head of Distribution, BFI, letter to Moira Sweeney, Film and Video Umbrella, 27 June 1991. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (FVU old files). 219. Michael O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to LFMC Distribution, 5 December 1989; Eleanor Pole, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to LFMC, 17 January 1990; Jeremy Welsh, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to Tony Warcus and Tom Heslop, LFMC Distribution, 9 March 1990. Source: courtesy of the Lux (the run of documents covering this FVU/LFMC exchange were located in a single folder: Leaflets and Art Council/Film and Video Umbrella Tours and Anthology Film Archives). 220. Tom Heslop and Tony Warcus, LFMC Distribution, letter to Jeremy Welsh, Film and Video Umbrella, 22 February 1990. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 221. Jeremy Welsh, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to Tom Heslop and Tony Warcus, LFMC Distribution, 28 February 1990. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 222. Mike O’Pray, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to Felicity Sparrow, Circles, 21 December 1983. Source: Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927– 1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 223. Tony Warcus and Tom Heslop, LFMC Distribution, letter to Jeremy Welsh, Film and Video Umbrella, 8 March 1990. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 224. Welsh, letter to Warcus and Heslop, 9 March 1990, op. cit. 225. Moira Sweeney, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to the LFMC Executive, 12 July 1990. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 226. A Contract Between the LFMC and the FVU, undated. Source: courtesy of the Lux. 227. Tom Heslop, London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, AGCB Application Form: Regional Project Development Fund, 1990: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1989–1993, box 1). Available at http://fv-distributiondatabase.ac.uk/PDFs/LFMC-RDFapp91.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 228. Internal memo from Rodney Wilson to Ian Reid, Arts Council of Great Britain, 28 February 1990: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 229. Film and Video Umbrella Budget Forecast 1990/91. Source: courtesy of Film and Video Umbrella (red sleeve – Reports 89-90-91). 230. David Curtis, Senior Film & Video Officer, Arts Council of England, letter to Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, Notes summarising annual review meeting, 11 July 1995: 2. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1995–96). 182

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231. O’Pray, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 232. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 233. Ibid. 234. Minutes of LVA/FVU Meeting on the Future of LVA Exhibition Policy, 24 June 1988; Minutes of the LVA Council of Management Meeting, 8 March 1988: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 235. Jeremy Welsh, letter to Film and Video Umbrella Board, 30 January 1991: 1. Source: courtesy of Film and Video Umbrella (red sleeve – Reports 89-90-91). 236. Angie Daniel, Tim Highsted, Charlie Sayle, Steven Bode, Directors, Film and Video Umbrella, letter to David Curtis, Artists’ Film and Video Committee, Arts Council of England, 20 November 1995. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1985–96). 237. Curtis, letter to Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Notes summarising’, July 1995, op. cit., p. 2. 238. FVU Bulletin summer 1992. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (FVU old files). Film and Video Umbrella, Projected budget estimate 1993/1994, op. cit. 239. Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Steven Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, 23 December 1992. Source: Film and Video Umbrella (Arts Council 1992–93, Finance). See also Curtis, letter to Bode, Film and Video Umbrella, ‘Notes summarising’, July 1995, op. cit. 240. Marketing and Distribution report, 4 October 1989: 2, 3. Source: courtesy of David Critchley. 241. Ibid., p. 2. 242. Ibid. 243. Film and Video Umbrella, ‘ACGB Report May 1989’: 5. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 244. David Curtis, ‘Summary of 1st Annual Assessment Meeting with Film and Video Umbrella, July 13, 1989’, Draft: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/11, FVU). 245. David Critchley, ‘Report on the GLA Annual Review Meeting held at LVA on 29.11.88’, December 1988: 4. The importance of TV sales was reiterated again just after the appointment of LVA’s new Distribution and Marketing Manager in autumn 1989. The Arts Council requested an action plan for 1990 indicating 2–3 main priorities for the year ahead and suggested that ‘your success in selling 20 tapes to international television would do more to enhance LVA’s reputation amongst both artists and the world video market than to achieve 200 rentals to galleries and colleges. … Sorry to be heavy, but the issue is important and our funding is specific on purpose’. David Curtis, Film and Video Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain, letter to Mike Maziere, Marketing Manager, LVA, 15 November 1989. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 246. Michael O’Pray, ‘Canadian Films at the Co-op’, undated, op. cit., p. 2. 247. Claire Wheeler/David Curtis, Arts Council, London Video Arts Assessment Meeting, 19 October 1987: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1). 248. Daniel, Highsted et al., letter to Curtis, November 1995, op. cit., p. 1.

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S

ubsidised distributors like the London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC), London Video Access (LVA), Cinema of Women (COW) and Circles are normally funded because of their perceived cultural importance – in the case of these organisations, their potential to help create a more diverse moving image culture by making collections of non-mainstream work available and securing audiences for it. However, the amount of such funding available is always finite and can never fully meet demand. Thus there is an expectation that such groups will continue to generate earned income through their distribution operations. Indeed, for distributors, earned income is one (very clear) indicator of their activity level and hence, to the funder, of the client’s ‘value for money’. But there is usually no expectation that such groups will generate a financial surplus to the costs of distribution – rent, wages, promotion and royalties – from their distribution activity. What experiences these groups had of self-sufficiency were generally in their earliest phases when staff worked for free (see Chapter 1). So if the funding landscape changes, suddenly reducing the availability of grant aid for such organisations, their long-term survival can be seriously threatened unless they can adapt to the changed environment. When such changes occurred in the UK during the 1980s (see Chapter 6), funders started to stress, among other things, the need for client groups to increase their levels of earned income and operate on a more commercial footing. Through a case study of Cinenova, the women’s film and video distributor that succeeded Cinema of Women and Circles at the beginning of the 1990s, this chapter explores how traditional distributors like Cinenova, the LFMC and LVA can be ill-equipped to meet that challenge and how the very nature of their activities renders such an aim problematic. Since Cinenova was also a product of the changing funding landscape, the chapter starts with a discussion of the developments in latter half of the 1980s which brought it into existence. The Need for Self-Sustainability As already discussed, throughout the 1980s the UK boasted two women’s film and video distributors. Cinema of Women (COW) was set up in 1979 and specialised in campaigning documentaries, issue based shorts and theatrical releases of contemporary art-cinema feature films (see Chapter 2), while Circles was set up the following year and specialised in avantgarde/artists’ material and historical titles (see Chapter 4). Together they played a crucial role in securing the visibility of and audiences for women’s film and video in the UK via television sales, cinema releases, touring packages and hires/sales to the education sector and other 187

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institutional markets. In 1989 it seemed entirely appropriate that COW draw attention to its achievements by celebrating ten years ‘in the business’ with a series of screenings and a seminar at London’s Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA). Furthermore, although both organisations were initially dependent on volunteer labour, by the mid-1980s they had between them attracted considerable grant aid. In particular, because both COW and Circles were located in London they had been able to benefit from the Greater London Council’s commitment to promote cultural diversity by supporting grassroots cultural activity in the London region.2 However, in 1986 the Greater London Council (GLC) was abolished – along with the Metropolitan County Councils – and the major responsibility for funding COW and Circles passed to the British Film Institute (BFI). Although the BFI and Greater London Arts (GLA) lobbied for and received interim replacement funding for London, by the late 1980s the overall traditional revenue funding available for film and video organisations – both in London and nationally – had nevertheless notably fallen.3 By the end of the decade the BFI was itself faced with cuts to its own budget and was ‘struggling … in terms of its own overheads and activities’.4 At the same time, Channel 4 had also cut back its funding commitment to the independent sector and the London Borough Grants Scheme (LBGS) had categorised film and video as a low priority.5 To address the situation in London GLA, together with the BFI and the LBGS, commissioned consultants Boyden Southwood/ Comedia to undertake ‘an audit of film and video provision in the region and to identify strategic development options for funders in the light of diminishing public subsidy’.6 By the time the consultants delivered their final report in October 1989,7 they noted that Channel 4 had already withdrawn annual funding from all but three of London’s franchised workshops,8 the number of film and video groups in London had fallen by around 20 per cent over the last two years, and of the remaining groups in receipt of annual funding, some were facing threats to their funding or had already had all or part of their funding cut.9 The report – ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’ – concluded that funding in the 1980s aimed at creating an ‘alternative infrastructure … had instead created dependency on grant-aid’,10 with the end result that existing grant aid had become spread too thinly among too many groups. Although most groups generated some earned income, according to the Boyden Southwood Report, as it became known, over half of the funded film and video groups in London derived over 75 per cent of their overall income from grant-aid. Given that traditional funding sources were shrinking, the report made a series of recommendations concerning how to strategically utilise public funding to maximise and develop film and video resources for the future. A significant one was the setting up of a ‘specially earmarked marketing fund’, together with a ‘marketing support organisation’ to assist distributors with raising the public profile of their work.11 The consultancy had been overseen by a wider Joint Funders Strategy Group (JFSG), which included representatives from Channel 4, the Inner London Education Authority and the Arts Council in addition to GLA, the BFI and the LBGS.12 After accepting the report as the basis for their future strategy, the JFSG conducted a series of visits with their funded clients in which it was made clear that the pattern for public funding would change. While 188

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groups might still be eligible for future project or contract funding, revenue funding would be severely reduced or cut altogether. Thus, as the JFSG stressed, groups would need to more actively pursue a ‘mixed economy’ model, developing income streams from a wider range of sources and in particular generating higher levels of earned income.13 Indeed, when Comedia undertook a consultancy for LVA in 1988 (see Chapter 3), they had similarly emphasised the need to respond pragmatically to declining funding by ‘concentrating on earned income’.14 At the same time, the JFSG were also looking for possible ways of ‘rationalizing’ London’s film and video provision by funding fewer small groups in favour of larger more strategic resources15 and flagged up the possibility of smaller groups merging.16 Indeed, in this climate Albany Video (see Chapter 3), for instance, undertook a joint consultancy with Video Engineering and Training (VET) to explore the possibility of the two organisations ‘integrating’ their activities to form a new video resource centre.17 In the spring of 1990, as part of this process, the BFI informed Cinema of Women (COW) and Circles that substantial cuts were being made to their revenue funding: COW was to be cut by 40 per cent and Circles by 65 per cent.18 As both organisations had generated less than 50 per cent of their overall revenue in 1988–89 through earned income,19 these cuts were large enough to threaten their continued existence, and the two organisations launched a high-profile press campaign to try and get the decision reversed.20 While the campaign was not entirely successful, the BFI did revise their approach to try and ensure the survival of one women’s distributor. In a meeting with Circles in August of that year and in various correspondence during 1990–91, the BFI made it absolutely clear that in the light of funding cuts affecting the whole sector, they could not continue to fund two organisations.21 The options they offered were for Circles and COW to merge or to fight each other for the available funding. With the prospect of dwindling revenue funding in the future and an indication from the BFI of the availability of a three-year funding package for the surviving distributor,22 the two organisations pursued the former option. They drew up a business plan in the spring of 1991 in which they outlined their plans for a merger and detailed the following as central to the new company’s long-term survival: •  The need to be more commercial, with the business plan taking them from grant-aid dependency to a breakeven point and self-sustainability on earned income in four years. •  The development of a range of strategies/new markets to achieve this, particularly building up TV sales, but also undertaking cinema releases, marketing educational packages, setting up sub-distribution deals, exploiting European funding opportunities, and launching a women’s video label. •  Recruiting and retaining an effective team of staff.23 After more than a year of negotiations and uncertainty, however, the merger plans lost funder support.24 COW closed down while Circles relaunched in October 1991 under a new name with the guarantee of just one year of BFI funding. Despite the difficulties of the preceding 18 months and an awareness of the considerable challenges that lay ahead the mood at 189

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Cinenova, the new company, was initially buoyant and optimistic.25 According to Helen de Witt, a former Cinenova worker, that optimism seemed justified since production styles in women’s work in the early 1990s were becoming more playful and entertaining which opened up the opportunity to take women’s work to wider audiences.26 Indeed, throughout the 1990s there was clearly still interest in and audiences for women’s film and video work. For instance, in the early 1990s Cinenova was able to theatrically release both Flaming Ears (Hans Schierl et al., Austria, 1992) and Dialogues with Mad Women (Allie Light, UK, 1993) on central London screens; a day seminar event organized by Cinenova addressing women’s filmmaking and distribution held at the ICA in 1994 sold out in advance;27 the following year Cinenova’s turnover substantially exceeded their projections;28 in spring 1996 the organisation was consulted by Shadow Minister for Women Tessa Jowell’s researcher in order to supply questions for the Parliamentary Questions on National Heritage in June; in 1997 Cinenova launched a newsletter and witnessed a growing demand for their titles at film festivals worldwide; and in 1999–2000 the organisation not only released the independent feature film Eileen is a Spy (Sayer Frey, UK, 1998), but also received an Arts Council England award for their online catalogue and website. Furthermore, distribution was frequently viewed as an activity that could generate income relatively easily and ought to be capable of covering its costs. During the late 1970s the LFMC’s distribution operation, for instance, generated two to three times more income than the cinema or workshop activities29 – and could on occasions return significant royalty payments to their more popular artists, such as Stan Brakhage30 – while during the early 1980s Circles had developed a healthy income from pursuing 16mm film sales with little initial grant aid support.31 Comedia’s 1988 consultancy for LVA and an earlier one for Albany Video (see Chapter 3) suggested that the distribution operations of both organisations were under-performing and not realising their full potential. With better marketing, the consultants envisaged that distribution activity in both cases could be more or less doubled, and both organisations were encouraged to strive to make the activity self-sustaining, to make distribution ‘pay for itself in its own right’.32 On the basis of Comedia’s consultancy, LVA projected that their new Marketing Manager post should become self-financing within two to three years,33 and the Arts Council who were funding the post anticipated being able to subsequently deploy the money elsewhere.34 Furthermore, when Boyden Southwood were conducting their London audit, they were able to report that The Other Cinema (TOC), with the assistance of their recently opened two screen cinema, had generated 94 per cent of their 1988–89 turnover via earned income.35 Indeed, in 1991 the BFI requested TOC’s Tony Kirkhope to act informally as a consultant to Circles and COW.36 However, despite both the perception that distribution activity could ‘pay for itself ’ and their optimistic business plan, by the late 1990s Cinenova was not only still heavily dependent on revenue funding, but had a mounting deficit, and by the end of the decade experienced a sharp decline in earned income. Although the workers managed to get the deficit more or less under control, they could not reduce it. When Cinenova eventually lost its remaining revenue funding in 2000, it was forced to cease active trading.37 190

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The Problem of Commercial Viability One of the key reasons Cinenova was unable to effect the transition from grant-aid dependency to self-sustainability is that women’s film/video distribution in the UK – like the promotional activity discussed in Chapter 4 – had not developed on a commercially viable basis. When Circles and COW tried to get the BFI to reverse its decision in 1990 to cut their funding, central to their argument for continuing to fund women’s distribution was the fact that ‘a proportion of the work would always be non-profit making’, because there are relatively small audiences for certain types of work.38 Indeed, Kirkhope had also found through his experience of running TOC’s new cinema that some work simply did not attract substantial audiences.39 Hence the distribution of such work – maintaining its availability as well as actively promoting it – would always require subsidising. However, in 1993 the BFI estimated that it was subsidising Cinenova at a rate of approximately £100 per film title and argued that in view of the sector-wide funding cuts that level of subsidy was too high for the level of activity. They insisted that ‘to have long term viability [Cinenova] must be able to exist at a lower level of subsidy’.40 Although increasing earned income was written into Cinenova’s business plan, increasing it significantly and, importantly, sustaining that increase is something which was very difficult for UK distributors like Cinenova to achieve. Indeed, despite the BFI’s admonishment that Cinenova ‘must be able to exist at a lower level of subsidy’, they were equally aware that – as illustrated in Chapters 2 and 4 – it is much harder to ‘work at the task of building the kind of audience which will support a richer and more varied range of films than those which would otherwise find their way onto our screens’.41 Part of the problem for Cinenova and other comparable distributors was that much of their business consisted of small transactions which were labour intensive to administer – hence the appeal of the touring package market discussed in Chapter 4. While Cinenova were processing a considerable number of hires and sales across their whole catalogue, the prices they charged in comparison to other countries were relatively low and the market, especially compared to the USA, relatively small. Hence the levels of income generated were correspondingly modest. Although pricing structures usually covered the core distribution costs, they did not cover all the overheads, particularly salaries. But simply increasing the prices was not a viable option. Significant markets for distributors like Cinenova, the LFMC and LVA were the education sector and screening venues, neither of which – as discussed in Chapter 4 – could sustain higher prices. As Ian Christie had reported to the BFI’s Information Division in 1987: ‘most UK renters are poverty stricken and fees have to be kept low’.42 Throughout the 1970s LFMC Distribution had maintained its policy of allowing artists to fix their own hire fees, but increasingly found they had to offer pricing guidance and encourage filmmakers to be realistic in terms of what the UK market would support.43 Some distributors also had sliding scales of hire charges depending on the length of the film. However, at the bottom end of the scale, the cost of processing and invoicing the booking was often more than the net royalty return to the distributor.44 Under pressure from the 191

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BFI, the LFMC eventually introduced a minimum hire charge of £15. But this could price programmes of short films completely out of hirers’ budgets and under pressure from their filmmakers they reverted to the sliding scale structure.45 Indeed, as the Arts Council had found, if anything it was necessary to reduce prices even further to persuade some hirers to take the work (see Chapter 4). Hence the needs of maintaining a distribution operation were frequently at odds with the promotional requirement to get the work seen. Further, most distributors, including Cinenova, found pricing proved a point of friction with US filmmakers in particular who were interested in having their work distributed in the UK, but were conditioned by the US market – particularly its very large and wealthy education sector – to expect far higher returns on both hires and sales than UK distributors could achieve for them.46 The pricing issue was further complicated with the advent of VHS which facilitated the practice of non-exclusive distribution and variable pricing. Since film prints were expensive to produce, filmmakers would usually deposit their work with one distributor who would look to recover any attendant costs before paying royalties. Indeed, Christie had also reported that BFI Distribution was having to cover the print costs of ‘some culturally adventurous films’, such as those by Derek Jarman, by sending them to the USA because of their far higher rental fees.47 The ease of video duplication, however, enabled producers to place their work with more than one distributor on a non-exclusive basis. Non-exclusive contracts were intended to enable the film/video maker to maximise the distribution of their work across different markets. Although these multiple points of supply didn’t generate the kind of conflicts and competition discussed in Chapters 1 and 4, once the work was placed with more than one distributor, it did limit any single distributor’s potential income from hires and sales of that work and thus diminished their incentive to invest money, time and energy into promoting it.48 This was often exacerbated when the production work had been fully funded, since some production groups would also co-distribute the work themselves and make it available for VHS purchase at a price similar to or even less than the distributor’s hire fee.49 This inconsistent pricing not only made it virtually impossible for distributors to generate much income from such titles, but could also make it difficult to justify their higher prices – prices that were necessary to help other producers recoup their costs or generate income via the relatively small institutional market. But as the video retail market took off there was a tendency among distributors like Cinenova to start reducing their prices in an attempt to be more competitive. By the late 1980s, for instance, it was possible to buy videos of Hollywood feature films for as little as £9.99, which compared very favourably with the £30–£60 purchase price of most VHS titles offered by distributors like LVA and Cinenova. As the BFI noted: ‘Teachers could build a course around the cheaply priced videos in Woolworths.’50 While it was hoped that reducing VHS prices would also widen the market for independent work, both funders and distributors alike believed that tapping into the television market was key to any plan for becoming more self-sustaining. Crucially it could yield a much higher level of income per transaction and so required a far smaller number of transactions 192

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to produce a significant level of income.51 This was part of the rationale for LVA’s more concerted move into the television sales market, as recommended by their 1988 Comedia consultancy (see Chapter 3). Although it was also designed to help raise the profile of artists’ video, it was very much fuelled by a belief that ‘TV sales are the single most important money earner, and that non-TV exhibition could not compete in that respect’.52 As Kate Norrish, a former Cinenova worker, has stressed: ‘At that time, it did feel like there was a possibility that TV would be a new market for this kind of work.’53 Hence, a significant component of Cinenova’s business plan rested upon building up TV sales. However, as discussed in Chapter 3, it was precisely in the early to mid-1990s that television in the UK, especially Channel 4 who had been a significant supporter of the independent sector, started to scale back its investment in this type of work. Also, when the Channel did purchase the kind of work that Cinenova distributed, the amounts they paid were at the low end of the fee scale.54 Given that it was the norm for distributors to retain only 25 per cent of the fee on a TV sale, Cinenova would have needed to make a significant number of TV sales on a regular basis to substantially increase their earned income. Although LVA succeeded in doing this to a certain extent in the early 1990s, they had to aggressively target the overseas market to do so and also found there was a ceiling to that market which in fact militated against its ability to provide a long-term funding solution for distribution activity (see Chapter 3). Another factor that exacerbated these problems was the royalty split on hires and sales in the other areas of their business. Distributors like Circles, COW, the LFMC and LVA had been set up with a commitment to returning a substantial proportion of the hire and sale fees to their film and video makers.55 While some organisations had started by returning as much as 70 per cent, by the mid-late 1980s a 50–60 per cent return on non-theatric hires and sales had become more or less the norm in the independent sector. However, this was still a much more favourable split for the filmmaker or video artist than commercial distributors offered – which could be as little as 15–20 per cent. Thus, as Comedia noted in their 1988 consultancy for LVA, the artists had in effect ‘voted themselves … a most advantageous deal’.56 This made sense when the artists themselves were running the organisations on a voluntary basis. But once organisations expanded and employed paid workers, it meant that they could struggle to meet their overheads. It was proving a problem for the LFMC as early as 1977–78 when they reported that ‘[w]ith its policy of returning 70% of rental income directly to the film-maker, Distribution can only barely make ends meet’ and had no surplus funds with which to purchase badly needed print repair equipment or finance print maintenance treatment.57 But more significantly perhaps, such a royalty split meant that – in the absence of higher prices – distributors like Cinenova, the LFMC and LVA had to generate a substantial increase in the volume of hires and sales to produce anything more than a relatively small increase in net income for the distributor (i.e. the distributor’s share after the producers’ royalties have been deducted). When the distributor’s royalty share was somewhere between 30 and 50 per cent, this was never sufficient to cover the costs of the increased worker time required to generate the increased volume of business in the first place. 193

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Thus for an organisation like Cinenova, any growth in earned income in fact resulted in the organisation requiring more revenue funding, not less – just as the growth in activity resulting from their funded expansion in 1975 did for the LFMC (see Chapter 1) and the year on year growth in activity did for the Film and Video Umbrella (see Chapter 4). This also very quickly became evident when LVA employed their Marketing Manager in 1989 to improve the performance of their distribution operation. Within the space of two years, the new post-holder Michael Maziere was able to report to the Arts Council that annual distribution income had trebled.58 But rather than his post having become self-financing, Distribution was in fact showing a £5000 deficit59 and, according to Maziere, needed a further £25,000 of funding ‘if it is to sustain its current high rate of activity as well as successfully implement its future developments’.60 In the face of dwindling grant aid, however, some distributors did eventually change their royalty split to 60:40 in favour of the distributor. Although it was not always a popular measure with film and video makers, the distributors argued that it was better to receive a lower percentage of something than get nothing if they went out of business.61 However, while a small number on the Cinenova board supported such a change, other board members remained committed to its predecessors’ founding principles. That, combined with the fact that Cinenova (like the LFMC and LVA) was a membership organisation – whereby all filmmakers had voting rights at AGMs – meant that such changes were difficult to instigate and, as de Witt has asserted, ‘those quite momentous decisions weren’t taken’.62 In the absence of additional grant aid to cover the costs of any increase in turnover, Cinenova became stuck in a classic ‘growth-shrink’ cycle: every time their turnover increased they did not have the financial resources to recruit additional staff to deal with the increased workload and hence they could not sustain the growth. In Cinenova’s case, these problems were compounded by the decision to place their distribution library with a shipping agency. Circles staff made this arrangement in the last months of the organisation’s existence to free worker time up from doing the physical dispatch of films and videos, so that, as they informed their filmmakers in April 1991, the new ‘remodelled’ company could make ‘Marketing & Promotion’ its principal activity.63 Such activity had of course been identified as a priority by the Boyden Southwood Report and indeed by the earlier consultancies for LVA and Albany Video mentioned above. Contracting dispatch out to an external agency was (and is) a system used successfully by the American women’s distributor Women Make Movies (WMM) and had been adopted (and indeed welcomed) by COW in the late 1980s.64 On the basis of the successful American example, the BFI encouraged Circles/Cinenova to do likewise and place their library with Glenbuck Films, a much larger 16mm and video non-theatrical distributor who would then process all their bookings on their behalf. However, Glenbuck had become a wholly owned BFI subsidiary after struggling and failing to make a similar transition from grant-aid dependency to self-sufficiency and, like Cinenova, were looking to maximise their earned income.65 Thus, while WMM were charged a ‘small fulfillment fee’ by its US dispatch agency

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which WMM then recouped from its customers,66 Glenbuck levied a massive 30 per cent slice of all the Cinenova business they processed.67 Although the Glenbuck arrangement was justified on the basis that it would allow Cinenova to concentrate on marketing and promotion, as discussed in the preceding chapters Circles had – along with other distributors – already engaged in such activity as an essential part of its role as a distributor. Indeed when BFI officer Irene Whitehead had visited Circles in November 1989 as part of the JFSG meetings following the publication of the Boyden Southwood report, she reported that Circles were ‘working on their marketing strategies’.68 However, as illustrated by the example of the Film and Video Umbrella discussed in Chapter 4, promotional activity frequently did not directly generate much in the way of income nor even recoup its own costs.69 Cinenova, for instance, regularly sent work to film festivals worldwide even though they rarely received payment for such screenings, organised small ‘showcase’ screenings at London’s Institute of Contemporary Arts, and plowed resources into developing their website as an educational resource. For a distributor, however, such activities had to be balanced with maintaining their core distribution business. Since Cinenova was not directly funded to concentrate solely on promotional activities in the way the Umbrella was (see Chapter 4) and the ‘marketing fund’ recommended by the Boyden Southwood Report never materialized, the relaunch of Circles as Cinenova did not genuinely ‘remodel’ the organisation into a ‘promotional agency’ along the lines of the Umbrella. As a result, much of Cinenova’s promotional activity only contributed to its accumulating deficit even when it increased distribution volume and income. Nevertheless Cinenova insisted it was committed to ‘promoting work by women’ – as their byline declared – and felt that promotional work ‘should therefore form the main part of our identity’.70 As a result Cinenova was split from the outset by a fundamental contradiction: despite the apparent need to urgently and significantly increase earned income, worker time was explicitly committed to supporting largely non-income generating activities. Unsurprisingly therefore, by the end of their first year of trading Cinenova was already failing to meet their targets for earned income. Indeed, while funders were insisting that their revenue clients had to exist at a lower level of core subsidy, given their own experiences of trying to deliver non-mainstream work to wider audiences, most were doubtful that any of their client organisations ‘were going to have more than a 5 or 6 per cent upturn in income generation’.71 As part of the ‘mixed economy’ model, funders were also encouraging their client organisations to pursue other sources of public funding. Cinenova heeded this and had notable successes in attracting funding from sources such as the Lottery, the European Social Fund and the European Regional Development Fund. But the extent to which they could access such funding was limited since many of the schemes required organisations to demonstrate involvement with and benefits to local communities – something which was difficult for a distributor to do.72 Furthermore, the grants Cinenova was able to attract via such sources were always for discrete projects (such as equipment facilities, training or events) that did not contribute directly towards developing its core distribution business or its self-sustainability. Indeed, on occasions applying for the grants did just the reverse 195

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since – as The Other Cinema had found (see Chapter 2) – fundraising activity can incur unanticipated costs. For Cinenova, doing the funding applications in addition to the day-today running of the organisation tended to increase staff costs, while impacting negatively on earned income as worker time was taken away from maintaining its distribution activity.73 The Impact of Under-Resourcing Due to the difficulty of increasing earned income, combined with dwindling revenue funding, organisations like Cinenova were also faced with the problem of long-term under-resourcing. From the outset, Cinenova received less revenue funding than had been projected in the original business plan drawn up by COW and Circles. The justification for the lower level of funding was that the BFI was far from convinced Cinenova could achieve the shift to self-sufficiency detailed in the plan. One of their main concerns was precisely that the projected income figures were unrealistically high.74 According to Irene Whitehead, one of the BFI staff responsible for the initial funding of Cinenova, their support for the organisation ‘was more a gesture of goodwill rather than a kind of acceptance that all was going to be well with them’.75 Thus Cinenova were able to offer only fairly low levels of pay – £10,400 per annum in 1993 – and could not always cover the cost of full-time employment. Typically workers would be employed for only four days a week, although they often worked additional unpaid hours in order to manage the workload and even then still required volunteers to help undertake specific projects. By the late 1990s former worker Laura Hudson was paid £15,000 per annum, but reported regularly working 90 hours per week.76 Indeed, this was characteristic of the sector throughout its history. Former workers at the LFMC, LVA, Circles and COW all reported earning low rates of pay while routinely working in excess of the hours for which they were paid, which in turn resulted in high levels of staff burn out.77 Hence Cinenova – like so many other organisations in the sector – was permanently under-resourced, and this had a serious impact on the organisation’s ability to recruit and retain an effective team of staff. The low salary levels meant it was difficult to recruit workers with the necessary business skills and experience to develop Cinenova. Instead the organisation tended to attract creative practitioners or people with a passion for and knowledge of women’s film/ video work who were still at a fairly early stage in their careers. Hence, they were usually lacking the necessary contacts to, for instance, tap into the TV sales market, exploit European funding, or negotiate sub-distribution contracts.78 Similarly, they lacked the business experience that would have allowed them to more effectively pursue and develop new markets that might have yielded additional earned income. Furthermore, as de Witt has observed: ‘Nobody had worked in any management positions, nobody had … run an organization before however big or small.’79 Again this was not unusual in the sector. LVA’s 1988 Comedia consultancy noted a similar problem, observing that distribution workers had been recruited for their knowledge of video art with the result that ‘no-one working 196

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in this area has even a limited understanding of administration’.80 As had been the case with The Other Cinema in the 1970s (see Chapter 2), this meant that crucially very few organisations had any financial expertise.81 But according to Hudson, with Cinenova’s staff of just two, it was also unlikely that between them they would cover all the skills the organisation needed. Over the years this problem was compounded, since when the jobs were advertised they attracted fewer and fewer applicants. Partly due to this difficulty in recruiting staff and partly as a cost saving measure, on a couple of occasions there was also a delay of several months in employing a replacement when someone left, leaving one worker to run the entire organisation.82 These factors, combined with a lack of employment benefits and ageing office technology, meant that throughout Cinenova’s history there was also a relatively high turnover of staff. As Hudson has commented: ‘Huge amounts of work, very little pay, not very good conditions … It’s not a combination that you’re going to keep staff.’83 Indeed, within a couple of years of Cinenova launching, none of the original staff – the workers who had experienced the BFI’s demands for greater self-sustainability and helped devise the original business plan – were still there. Several years later, in a desperate attempt to recruit a suitable replacement for Hudson, the organisation even upped the offered salary to £21,000. But the successful applicant was still experiencing salary cut of £9000 and unsurprisingly left within three months.84 These difficulties in both recruiting and retaining staff resulted in not only a growing backlog of work, but also the need to ‘keep reinventing the wheel’, as it were, in terms of running the organisation. That is, there was never a long-term accumulation of skills, experience and expertise within the organisation, from which it could grow and develop. Again, this was characteristic of the sector and raised as an important issue by the Boyden Southwood consultancy.85 As a letter from Cinema of Women, cited by the Boyden Southwood report, observed: ‘The personnel turnover is often high because it is difficult to stay in this sector and live comfortably, thus experience is constantly going out the door.’86 As each new set of workers learnt the business, they came to the same conclusions about the difficulties they faced and reiterated the same priorities as their predecessors, but either did not stay long enough to significantly advance those priorities or burnt themselves out within three to four years trying to achieve them with too few resources. Brief periods of staff stability could result in an organisation experiencing significant growth – albeit in relative terms – as was indeed the case for LVA in the mid- and late 1980s (see Chapter 3) and for Cinenova in the mid-1990s and again towards the end of the decade, but activity levels always fell again when those staff left. Thus Cinenova never secured the experienced staff nor retained the effective team they had identified in their business plan as central to their long-term success. But Cinenova’s under-resourcing also meant that the organisation could not always respond adequately to their customer needs and, as one former worker observed, ‘that affects your reputation’.87

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Dealing with Funders Cinenova’s enduring problem with under-resourcing was exacerbated by the relationship with their main funder. In the 1980s film and video organisations in the UK’s independent sector tended to become heavily dependent on one major revenue funder – something which was reinforced by the fact that the funders themselves tended to be quite territorial about their portfolio of clients.88 This relationship of dependency allowed funders to impose their own terms and priorities on their client organisations as a condition of funding. In 1982, for instance, a BFI officer had informed the LFMC that the Institute recognised the Co-op was underfunded but that ‘he and others won’t campaign within the BFI for a higher level of funding for the Co-op unless the Co-op is seen to have workable and clearly defined policies for the future’.89 Similarly, six months after the BFI announced the original funding cuts to Circles and Cinema of Women (COW), the Institute wrote to Circles agreeing to give them a £10,000 bridging grant to keep the organisation going until the end of the financial year but stipulated that: This assistance is only available on the following conditions: a) that it represents a ‘cash limit’, which Circles must live within and make whatever further economies may be necessary in the course of the year; b) that the terms of a separately funded consultancy, costing up to £2,000, to determine the future relationship of Circles and COW are established within the next four weeks, and that this consultancy reports within three months, an outline business plan for the new organisation projected forward three years.90 (our italics) Indeed, it is evident from some correspondence that revenue funders would at times adopt quite an authoritarian attitude in their dealings with their client organisations. And in the context of shrinking public funding, the Boyden Southwood report argued that ‘complying effectively’ with tighter funding procedures would be the necessary price of obtaining future support.91 Furthermore, once organisations had made the transition from volunteer labour to paid workers, gaining that support became crucial not only for the continuation of the organisation’s activity (see Chapter 1) but also for its employees whose own livelihoods had come to depend upon it. As a result the issue for Cinenova and organisations like it was not simply whether they were successful or not in getting funding, but also managing the relationship with their principal funder when they were.92 And there are at least two moments in the history of women’s film and video distribution in the UK where managing this relationship had a significant impact on the organisation’s ability to operate effectively. The first came in Cinenova’s pre-history, during the negotiations with the BFI in 1990. As late as August of that year, Circles and COW were still looking at the possibility of salvaging both organisations. Indeed, they saw themselves as very different organisations, with very little if any overlap between their libraries and target audiences.93 Whereas Circles had developed a catalogue that focused on women artists’ film and video and was more concerned with aesthetic issues,94 COW had pursued ‘the political, activist slant, furthering 198

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the cause of women’s liberation’.95 If anything, COW perceived more of a potential overlap with The Other Cinema, since they had competed with one another for the film distribution rights to Connie Field’s The Life and Times of Rosie the Riveter (USA, 1980) and Lizzie Borden’s Born in Flames (USA, 1983).96 However, as indicated above, the BFI made Circles’ receipt of a bridging grant conditional upon their undertaking a consultancy with COW to produce a business plan for a single new organisation. Circles and COW therefore gave up the idea of trying to save both organisations and came up with the required business plan for a new company – provisionally called Take Two – which as its name suggests was based on the combined staff expertise and catalogues of the two existing organisations. In late March 1991, after the business plan had gone through various revisions at the BFI’s request, the Institute made a provisional offer of £45,000 to COW and Circles ‘towards establishing and operating Take Two in 1991–92’.97 However, it appears that in early April 1991 the BFI shifted from dealing jointly with COW and Circles to dealing solely with Circles. The outcome was that by mid-late April 1991, rather than awarding the £45,000 to the two organisations jointly, Circles had received confirmation from the BFI of £30,000 revenue funding for the new organisation for 1991–92,98 while COW was offered £15,000 to wind up and instructed to pack up and deliver their files to the BFI.99 Thus, despite various published assertions to the contrary, a merger between Circles and COW never took place. This exclusion of COW from the final planning stages was handled in such a way that it caused a serious rift between the two women’s distributors, with considerable hard feelings on the part of COW’s workers.100 The loss of COW’s goodwill deprived the new organisation of both COW’s experience of theatrical distribution and the straightforward acquisition of COW’s library of films, on which the income projections for Cinenova had in part been based. Consequently, when it finally launched, Cinenova had to spend considerable time trying to sort out the acquisition of COW’s titles, an undertaking made all the more difficult since the work was not held at COW’s premises but by Glenbuck. Despite repeated attempts by Cinenova to check what COW films Glenbuck had in its possession and negotiate their acquisition, they met with little success. Some films simply went missing and could not be traced, while the distribution rights to others were picked up by the BFI when COW’s original contracts lapsed. According to Whitehead, who had been responsible for funding both Circles and COW in the late 1980s, the failed merger also meant that the stronger organisation was closed down. Although Circles was probably more ‘culturally effective’, she has asserted that ‘[COW] were more practical … they had a greater business sense than Circles and had a better grasp of management and accounting’.101 In 1988–89, for instance, COW had generated a considerably higher proportion of their overall revenue via earned income.102 And according to former worker Eileen McNulty, even though other distributors were starting to take on more work by women, COW had been adept at pursuing new markets by developing video sales, seeking out work with wider relevance and ‘getting a wide range of material that still wouldn’t be distributed elsewhere’.103 Indeed, both de Witt and Debra Zimmerman of Women Make Movies (WMM) have stressed the significance of Cinenova’s loss of COW’s catalogue, arguing that it was the stronger and more viable 199

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collection, and suggested that if a merger had taken place there would have been a higher likelihood that Cinenova could have succeeded.104 Furthermore, the whole turn of events left a legacy of hostility and anger towards Cinenova which its workers had to deal with in addition to the normal problems of launching and nurturing a new company.105 The second moment came just a couple of years later, after the BFI had passed funding responsibility for Cinenova over to the newly formed London Film and Video Development Agency (LFVDA). In January 1994 the LFVDA informed Cinenova they were going to undertake an ‘assessment/review’ of its activities. According to the LFVDA the purpose of the review was ‘to work with Cinenova in a detailed and systematic way to look at its policies, operations and plans for the future’ with a view to agreeing priorities and examining the resource implications thereof.106 As a funded client, Cinenova had no choice but to participate in the process. As Simon Blanchard, former national organiser of the Independent Film, Video and Photography Association (IFVPA), has observed, funders expected their client organizations to spend ‘quite a lot of time reading and responding to their missives’.107 Although Cinenova initially saw it as an opportunity to establish a firm relationship with their new funder and felt it could prove very fruitful, it nevertheless embroiled the new organisation in a number of additional activities. Cinenova staff were, for instance, required to attend a whole series of meetings – seven over an eight-month period – and undertake various review processes, including producing a 30-page plus report on Cinenova’s activities. Cinenova was also explicitly reminded that LFVDA policies formed part of the background to the review: ‘Of special relevance here is of course the LFVDA’s exhibition policy. In particular the criteria for funding should be borne in mind.’108 As part of the review process Cinenova therefore also produced a 20-page development prospectus detailing various income generating activities they had researched and costed. Most of these were – unsurprisingly – aimed at increasing the exhibition of women’s work and focused on TV sales, touring packages, submitting work to film festivals and doing showcase screenings at central London venues. Accompanying the prospectus was a request for just under £25,000 of development funding to undertake the initiatives – in addition to their normal core activities – and take them to self-sufficiency in two to three years. Although it is debatable whether the exhibitions initiatives could have become self-sustaining – with the exception of the TV sales, the initiatives were precisely those that tended to generate little in the way of income and needed funding as ‘promotion’ – the LFVDA accepted the prospectus and had ended up structuring the review process around it. Yet when completed, the review resulted in only a very small increase in Cinenova’s revenue funding for 1994–95, with the request for development funding ignored. The activity of dealing with the funder in both these instances lasted for around a year, and not only added significantly to employees’ workloads but also drained the organisation and its workers of energy. This in turn meant the core distribution activity became neglected and resulted in a backlog of work which seriously impacted on Cinenova’s ability to operate effectively. Furthermore, for Cinenova, as for other granted-aided organisations, this 200

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process of managing the relationship with the funder impacted significantly on their sense of identity (see also Chapter 1). As already mentioned, Circles and COW had initially been interested in trying keep both organisations going, as were a number of filmmakers and others involved with the organisations, since they saw ‘no earthly reason why we couldn’t have two – rather different – women’s distributors’.109 Yet, in the business plan for the new company, in order to make themselves eligible for the available funding, COW and Circles argued that the distinctions between the two old organisations were now less marked and discussed the benefits of having one merged organisation. Thus it is hardly surprising that within a year of opening for business, Cinenova workers wrote to their Board to call an ‘emergency’ meeting because: [There is] an overwhelming sense that Cinenova lacks direction. We feel that … we have lost sight of what our objectives are. This makes most of the projects we’re working on and any promotion we do about the company itself a nebulous task. Basically our energy is drained from this.110 The overall effect of its dependency on one major revenue funder therefore was that Cinenova started off from a much weaker position than originally envisaged and was far less well-equipped in terms of resources, energy and identity in its crucial early years of trading to carry out its core distribution activity and build itself a strong position in the market place. A Changing Marketplace While audiences for women’s work still existed in the 1990s and, if anything, more women were making work, Cinenova’s weakened position was compounded by the nature of the marketplace the organisation was entering – which was very different to the one in which their predecessors had operated. In the 1980s women filmmakers had been keen to place their work with COW or Circles both as an act of support for a feminist initiative and because the distributors undertook to secure appropriate audiences for the work. Hence the organisations had enjoyed a good supply of material to distribute. At the same time, COW and Circles had also been able to rely on an extensive and committed network of women’s groups and initiatives as a core audience for the work they distributed, as well as a number of supportive screening venues (see Chapter 2). As Judith Higginbottom found when she had worked with Circles to tour Maya Deren’s films in the early 1980s (see Chapter 4), due to the take up of feminism in a wide range of areas and its analysis of the world in terms of patriarchy: ‘There was a natural audience which was very hungry for films by women.’111 As early as 1990, however, women film and video makers had started to resist the ‘feminist’ label and question the benefits of categorising cultural products made by women on the basis of the gender of their producers. Some began to feel that the inclusion of 201

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their work in a women’s programme or women’s film festival only served to reinforce their marginalisation.112 Partly for this reason, in their pre-launch planning stages, Cinenova had been pragmatic and decided that ‘we’re definitely not going to have “feminism” as the key word in our marketing of ourselves’.113 Even earlier, however – as noted at the end of Chapter 2 – COW had started to find that due to the success they had had with some of their theatrical releases, some women filmmakers were looking to place work with bigger and sometimes more commercially oriented distributors.114 Cate Elwes has also argued that in the course of the 1990s younger women, who had not experienced the feminist debates of the 1970s first hand, became more interested in pursuing professional recognition and career success than in supporting a feminist agenda.115 While Cinenova had been optimistic in 1991 about the future, these shifts in attitudes made a significant proportion of women rather reluctant to place their work with a women’s distributor. However, on a rare occasion when Cinenova were offered five feature films by a notable German woman filmmaker – Ulrike Ottinger – complete with English subtitles, they were unable to raise the £15,000 that Ottinger was asking. In the early 1980s COW had been able to turn to the BFI to finance the acquisition of Marleen Gorris’ A Question of Silence (Netherlands, 1982) (see Chapter 2), but by the 1990s such sources had dried up. Ottinger is of course also a prominent lesbian filmmaker and, although feminist concerns appeared to be slipping into the background, Cinenova found lesbian film to be a growth area. According to de Witt, ‘without lesbian work and demand for it, Cinenova would have been in a much more difficult position’.116 However, whilst this developing market certainly eased their difficulties, it was not sufficient on its own to sustain them. In addition, many of the women’s groups who had been keen to hire the work distributed by Circles and COW had disappeared after the abolition of the Greater London Council (GLC) and the Metropolitan County Councils and the resulting loss of their funding. Those that survived, however, had also started to experience funding cuts by the end of the 1980s. As Hudson has observed: [W]hat happened in the late 1980s and most of the 1990s is that people think that the fight [against patriarchy] has been won, and there’s no longer any need to redress the balance. Unfortunately that’s not really the case, but the funders’ priorities have changed and shifted and they’re no longer going to put money into something that is a women’s cause.117 As a result the surviving women’s groups started to request discounted hire rates that Cinenova could ill afford to support. When Hudson worked at Cinenova in the late 1990s she also noticed that educational sales were declining and undertook a survey to find out why. Although she found there were a number of reasons, she asserted that ‘a lot of it was because the people who were choosing films and teaching the film courses were male’ and that many film studies courses had lost their feminist component. This is perhaps unsurprising once a wide range of more mainstream films became available at cheap prices via the retail video 202

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market but, combined with the disappearance of women’s groups, it meant that Cinenova was less able than COW and Circles had been – even with the growing lesbian audience – to capitalise on a substantial pre-existing audience who were ‘hungry’ for the work they distributed. That Cinenova had to do a survey to find out why educational sales were declining is indicative of the fact that to a certain extent the organisation had also lost the close contact with audiences that Circles and COW had initially benefited from. As discussed in Chapter 3, this was at least partly due to a change in the nature of their business precipitated by the VHS market. When Circles and COW set up, the majority of their business was hires (either 16mm or u-matic). The nature of hiring facilitated direct contact with their customers – films had to be booked and returned (see Chapter 2) – and the resulting interaction could be fed back into future acquisition and marketing decisions.118 However, with the advent of the VHS cassette, a substantial proportion of business had shifted by the late 1980s to institutional video sales. This tended to close down that important avenue of communication between distributors and their users, rendering the former less able to respond to the needs of the latter. It also resulted in a decline in the 16mm sales that had played a key role in sustaining Circles in its early years. In the early 1980s Circles co-founder Felicity Sparrow would sell prints for around three times the print cost, which produced a distribution income far higher than anything she’d been able to achieve at the LFMC through multiple low-cost rental transactions.119 At the same time, the situation with screening venues had also changed. The first significant funding Circles and COW received was to expose their work to the public by undertaking a screening series and releasing a feature film respectively (see Chapters 2 and 4). From the BFI’s point of view, in 1982 it was worth advancing COW £6000 to acquire and organise the London release of A Question of Silence, since it guaranteed them access to the controversial feminist film for their Regional Film Theatre (RFT) circuit and publicity from a London release was key to a film’s regional performance (see Chapter 2). COW was valued for its special expertise with the material and its potential audiences, as was Circles by the Arts Council. When Cinenova launched an Arts Council funded ‘New Wave Women’ touring package in 1993, it was hoping to recreate the success of Circles’ 1980s packages. Following on from the success of the ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’ and ‘Maya Deren’ touring packages (see Chapter 4), Circles had subsequently produced a ‘Black Women and Invisibility’ package, also Arts Council funded. At the time of its launch in March 1987 Circles had regional cinema bookings lined up in Cardiff, Manchester, Edinburgh, Bradford, Leicester, Ipswich, Canterbury, Derby, Norwich and Nottingham over an eight-week period.120 Although Cinenova targeted the RFT circuit for its ‘New Wave Women’ package, by then the venues were similarly required to become more economically self-sustaining, would not take the risk with the material, and the package received only three bookings for the year. However, by 1993 the Arts Council’s touring funding was also one of the few ways left to regularly access theatrical and semi-theatrical venues around the country. Indeed, all remaining eligible distributors, along with the Film and Video Umbrella – as discussed in 203

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Chapter 4 – were fielding packages competing for the same finite network of RFTs and art centres. Thus, just as Cinenova was having to respond to LFVDA’s requirement that they bear in mind their funder’s exhibition policy, there was a significantly reduced likelihood of Cinenova being able to access public screening venues. But the poor take up for their ‘New Wave Women’ package in fact dealt a double blow to Cinenova’s potential to increase its self-generated income, since – as discussed in Chapters 2 and 4 – public exposure was key to work becoming known, thereby maximising subsequent rentals and sales, and so helping to financially support distributors. Cinenova’s ability to deal with the changed environment was hampered by the feminist distribution practice it had inherited from its predecessors. Both COW and Circles had been set up to ensure distribution opportunities existed for films and videos directed by women which ‘speak from or about the position of women’.121 As the successor organisation, Cinenova not only inherited this commitment, but – as the sole surviving women’s distributor in the UK – felt the need to promote as far as was possible the full range and diversity of women’s film and video work. However, while Cinenova did indeed ensure that a wide range of historical and contemporary moving image work by women was available, many of the titles in its catalogue were only rarely, if ever, hired or bought. To a certain extent, this is a fact of moving image distribution. As Zimmerman of Women Make Movies (WMM) has explained: ‘Every year, whatever we do, 10 per cent or 20 per cent of the films in the collection are going to make 80 per cent of the money.’122 Therefore, while WMM continue to make available ‘artistically significant films’ and feminist ‘classics’ that may not generate a substantial level of income – by being seen – they always try to ensure they acquire the income-generating 20 per cent ‘so we can survive and be able to distribute the other 80 per cent’.123 However, in view of the changing market place and their chronic under-resourcing, Cinenova was rarely in a position to attract or acquire the films with more commercial potential. Moreover, with regard to the titles that did not go out, Cinenova was in fact incurring an expense in terms of the admin required to maintain them as part of their collection – an expense which rose in terms of storage space required when they became sufficiently dissatisfied with Glenbuck to take video despatch back in house. For this reason Women Make Movies regularly ‘clean’ their catalogue and de-acquire those films that have ‘become outdated due to political changes or … do not “stand the test of time”’.124 Indeed, some of Cinenova’s filmmakers were surprised that the organisation was still actively distributing their earlier work.125 While more commercially minded strategies – such as actively promoting only the more popular titles and de-acquiring or archiving less popular work, as LVA had done (see Chapter 4) – were discussed on a number of occasions at Cinenova, they were never pursued. One of the main reasons for this was that if less popular titles were archived or de-acquired, they would effectively cease to be both visible and available in the UK, and thus a substantial part of feminist film history – however outdated the work appeared to be – would effectively disappear. In view of the reasons COW and Circles were set up, such a course would have at least in part undermined the raison d’être of a women’s distributor 204

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and – given the remaining commitment to COW and Circles’ founding principles – was ultimately unpalatable. Despite Cinenova’s awareness of the changed marketplace, the extent of its reluctance to pursue such a route was made evident in 2001. When Cinenova lost its final revenue funding in 2000, discussions were initiated with Women Make Movies (WMM) and a number of other organisations to explore future possibilities for housing the Cinenova collection. According to Zimmerman, WMM offered to ‘take over the collection of films … [and] keep the Cinenova name alive by identifying those films as part of the “Cinenova collection”’.126 However, Cinenova feared – mistakenly according to Zimmerman – it would be ‘more of a friendly take-over’127 and concerns that the majority of the collection would be de-acquired prevented Cinenova from pursuing this course.128 Thus on the one hand, Cinenova was less able to rely on a good supply of contemporary material, which left them with a collection of work that was becoming increasingly outdated and hence difficult to promote. On the other, they were confronted with a marked decline in their historically strongest markets but lacked the resources to develop new ones. The Problem of Ideological ‘Baggage’ To have secured itself a strong position in the changed environment, Cinenova would have needed to become a very different organisation. Although under-resourcing inhibited that to a degree, so too did its deep roots in its predecessor organisations. Not only was Cinenova resistant to developing more commercially minded strategies, but it had inherited a difficult legacy from the collective volunteerism that had given rise to organizations like COW and Circles, as well as The Other Cinema, the LFMC and LVA. While the precise organisational structures differed, the founding members of those organisations were all driven by a commitment to political and ideological goals. As most of them were film and video makers themselves, they also had a vested interest in seeing the organisations survive. As no-one was being paid, in most cases the organisations operated as collectives or co-operatives in the form of management committees or steering groups who shared the necessary routine work as well as formulated policy and oversaw the overall running of their respective organisations. But with the shift from volunteer labour to paid employees, the two roles became separated out, with the volunteer management committees overseeing and directing the organisations, while the paid workers carried out the day-to-day work. While this in itself created some tensions, as founding members and first generation paid workers moved on, the ethos of the organisations tended to change. For second generation recruits, working for such organisations was paid employment, while new management committee members had not directly experienced – and did not necessarily understand129 – the passion and commitment that had informed the setting up of the organisations. This is not to suggest that subsequent paid workers were not highly committed – the low levels of pay and high burn-out rate are ample evidence they were, and in the cases where distribution activity was run by one or two individuals, those 205

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individuals played a key role in shaping the organisation. But the work was no longer purely politically or ideologically motivated, it was also the means by which they (at least in part) earned their living, and hence their priorities were necessarily somewhat different to their volunteer predecessors. In addition, it was the paid workers who usually had a clearer grasp and overview of an organisation’s activities, but had no authority to formulate policy, while the management committee was trying to direct the organisation with no real experience of its daily functioning.130 As a result, over the years the role of organisations’ management committees and the responsibilities of their members often became less clear, while workers were too overworked to try and implement radical changes. Cinenova inherited this flawed organizational structure, and it severely hampered the possibility of responding quickly and strategically to changing conditions. While that functioned precisely to protect its feminist moving image heritage, it also made for ineffective overall management of the organization in an era of diminishing grant aid.131 Furthermore, as Irene Whitehead has argued, London-based organisations in particular had in some ways little incentive to change. She has asserted that the generous funding policies of the Greater London Council (GLC) had ‘built up a whole level of expectation’ among their client organisations with regard to their entitlement to be funded which was ‘quite unreal’.132 Although Cinenova was fully aware of the BFI’s insistence that they move ‘towards financial independence’,133 Whitehead has argued the GLC’s policies bequeathed a legacy whereby funded groups were unwilling to fully face up to the changed environment and the reality of permanent funding cuts. However, she also concedes – with the gift of hindsight – that funding agencies should have done more to help organisations adjust.134 In this connection, it’s relevant to note that between 1993 and 1999 Cinenova’s year on year revenue funding actually steadily increased. At the end of Cinenova’s first full year of operation the BFI had informed the organisation that its revenue grant was going to be reduced from £30,000 to £17,500 to progress the shift to self-sustainability.135 Cinenova complained that such a drastic cut after only one year ‘means that we are being condemned to death by slow starvation, as opposed to being beheaded’,136 and the BFI responded by revising the offer up to £24,500. When they passed responsibility for Cinenova over to the London Film and Development Agency (LFVDA) in July 1993, Cinenova’s annual revenue grant was gradually increased until in 1999 it had regained its 1992 level of funding.137 While the year on year increases were small, did not reinstate their original level of funding, and did not allow the organisation to develop, importantly LFVDA’s funding did continue to largely cover existing salary costs and thus permitted Cinenova to continue trading. Consequently it is possible to argue that the funder’s own actions repeatedly removed the direct need for Cinenova to prioritise the goal of self-sustainability. Indeed, as indicated at the start of this chapter, subsidised groups like Cinenova were normally funded specifically for their ideological ‘baggage’, not at all for their financial strength – and they saw funding as a recognition of their campaign’s importance. As such, they frequently treated threatened cuts and admonitions to become self-supporting as reversible if their campaigning mandate could be forcibly restated, or redescribed in the 206

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language of contemporary funding priorities. That surviving comparable groups became more, not less, heavily subsidised through the 1990s (see Chapters 4 and 6), while Cinenova clawed back its funding over a period of years and received significant Lottery funding late in the decade, suggests some correctness in this. It is unsurprising therefore that there was no serious attempt to examine how Cinenova could be made more economically viable until earned income started to fall off significantly at the very end of the decade and the organisation headed into serious deficit, while the accompanying decline in activity radically reduced the organisation’s perceived ‘value for money’. Notes    1. A much shorter and earlier version of this chapter was presented as a paper at the 2004 Screen Studies conference by Julia Knight under the title ‘Securing the Future: The Problems of Women’s Film/Video Distribution’ and then subsequently published as ‘Distribution and the Question of Diversity: a Case Study of Cinenova’, Screen, 49(3), Autumn 2008.    2. See Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy: The Cultural Industries (n.d.), and Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’, October 1989. Source: British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection. Furthermore, the GLC had three different committees that could and did fund film and video organisations/activity, each with their own budget: the Community Arts and the Ethnic Arts panels, both of which were subcommittees of the Arts and Recreation Committee, as well as the Women’s Committee.    3. In fact, the overall amount of funding available was still considerable, but as new groups and priorities emerged those funds were put under increasing pressure, especially when substantial amounts were tied up in revenue funding. Additionally, the amounts of their overall budgets that funders were allowed to give as revenue grants was falling (see Chapter 6). See also Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999).    4. Irene Whitehead, formerly of the Funding and Development Division and the Planning Unit, BFI, in interview with Peter Thomas, 29 June 2004. See also Irene Whitehead, Funding and Development Division, BFI, letter to BFI London Direct Grant Clients, 4 October 1989: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate, Box D/71, A8 Funding and Development 1989–1990). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/whitehead891004b.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).    5. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., 13. Channel 4 had started cutting some workshops as early as 1984 – see Minutes of the Meeting of the Information Division, BFI, 8 August 1984: 2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Information Division Meetings 1983–1985).    6. Felicity Sparrow, Greater London Arts, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector in London’, 19 January 1990: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/sparrow90119.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).    7. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit.    8. Ibid., p. 13. There were a number of reasons for this, but one was that Channel 4 was not getting ‘useable’ product, i.e. material they felt able to broadcast, in return for their investment. See for

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instance Felicity Sparrow, in interview with Peter Thomas, 13 June 2003, and in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 24 June 2004.    9. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ibid., p. 22.   10. Sparrow, ‘Developing’, 1990, op. cit., p. 2.   11. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., pp. 70 and 109.   12. The JFSG was convened in order to ensure that all the funders would accept the findings of the Boyden Southwood consultancy and agree to the strategy their report proposed.   13. Reports of some of these visits are available at the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group).  14. Comedia, ‘London Video Artists: Management Review’, November 1988: 3. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers).   15. Joint Funders Strategy Group, ‘Meeting with Women in Sync 24.11.89’: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group).   16. Joint Funders Strategy Group, ‘Meeting with LVA and LFMC at GLA on 1.12.89’: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group).  17. Comedia, ‘Albany Video and Video Engineering and Training: A Business Plan for a New Resource Centre. A Proposal’, October 1989. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. In the end the two organisations remained separate, partly because the production wing of Albany Video closed down while the distribution wing became a standalone operation.   18. It should also be noted that the previous year the BFI had restructured and the two women’s distributors had become the responsibility of a newly formed Distribution Division, who in turn became a direct competitor.   19. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., ‘Chart 1: Film and Video Groups Funding Base (1988/89)’: 125.   20. Gill Henderson, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 September 2004.   21. Jenny Holland, ‘Mtg with Ian Christie, Thursday August 9th @10am @ BFI’ notes, 1990: 2. The following year, Tony Kirkhope of The Other Cinema was requested by the BFI to act informally as a consultant to Circles and COW. He met with them on 10 March 1991 and reported that while the BFI ‘understood and fully supported’ women’s film and video distribution, its Distribution Division, which had taken over responsibility for COW and Circles, ‘had found it very hard to justify the existence of both group[s] in the light of current funding cuts which are effecting [sic] the whole sector’. Cinema of Women & Circles, ‘Summary notes from conversation with Tony Kirkhope, 10th March’, 1991. Source: Cinenova (Circ/COW meetings).   22. See ‘Proposed Budget: Take Two Expenditure Forecast 1991/92’, 18 March 1991: 2. Source: Cinenova (Circ/COW meetings). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ccowbudg910318.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   23. Cinema of Women & Circles, ‘Take Two Business Plan: Proposed Merger between Cinema of Women and Circles’, February 1991. Source: Cinenova.   24. Liane Harris and Sarah Bratby, Circles, letter to Irene Whitehead/Ian Christie, BFI, 23 April 1991. Abina Manning and Jenny Wallace, COW, letter to Circles Management Committee, 23 April 1991. Gill Henderson, Circles, letter to Abina Manning and Jenny Wallace, COW, 30 April 1991. Source: Cinenova (Circ/COW meetings). Harris & Bratby, letter to Whitehead/Christie, 23 April 1991, available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/harris-bratby910423.pdf; Manning & Wallace, letter to Circles, 23 April 1991, available at http://fv-distribution-database. ac.uk/PDFs/manning-swallace910423.pdf; Henderson, letter to Manning & Wallace, 30 April 1991 available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/henderson910430.pdf (all accessed 1 February 2011). 208

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  25. Liane Harris, former Circles/Cinenova worker, in interview with Julia Knight, 30 July 1991.   26. Helen de Witt and Kate Norrish, former Cinenova workers, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 18 November 2004.   27. Cinenova, Board Meeting minutes, 26 October 1994. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/CNmins941026.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   28. Cinenova, Board Meeting minutes, 20 December 1995. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/CNmins951220.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   29. See for instance, ‘London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, Annual Budget, 1978–79’. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC 1979).  30. Felicity Sparrow, former LFMC Distribution worker, in discussion at Birkbeck study day, ‘Institutional Support for British Experimental Film and Video’, 13 December 2002. See http:// www.studycollection.co.uk/maziere/docs/D5.html (accessed 14 July 2010). NB: the date on the website is incorrectly stated as 2001.   31. Sparrow, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.  32. Comedia, ‘Albany Video: A Strategic Definition of the Organisation and an Assessment of Training Needs’, February 1987: 7. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. See also Comedia, ‘London Video Artists: Management Review’, November 1988: 19 and 30. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers). The report for Albany Video was carried out as a result of their loss of GLC funding in the wake of abolition and the withdrawal of their Channel 4 grant.   33. Minutes of the LVA Council of Management Meeting, 11 May 1989: 1–2. Source: courtesy of David Critchley.   34. Rodney Wilson, Arts Council, Memo to Lew Hodges, 25 July 1990. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   35. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, ‘Chart 1’, op. cit.: 127. After recovering from the Charlotte Street project, The Other Cinema had managed to open a new cinema in 1985 with the aid of £250,000 investment from the GLC.   36. Cinema of Women & Circles, ‘Summary notes’, 1991, op. cit.   37. The Cinenova Board of Directors, letter to all Cinenova Filmmakers, 6 November 2000. Source: courtesy of Judith Higginbottom. The decision to suspend active trading was also precipitated by their two members of staff both leaving at the same time. At the time of writing the organisation still exists and is run by a volunteer worker in conjunction with a small management committee.   38. Cinema of Women & Circles, ‘Summary notes’, 1991, op. cit.   39. The example he gave was Sankofa’s The Passion of Remembrance (1986), which he described to Simon Blanchard as ‘terrible for business’. Simon Blanchard, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004. See also Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., p. 75, where the authors report box office figures and comparisons for the film.   40. Stephen Bell, Acting Head of Exhibition and Distribution, BFI, letter to Cinenova, 2 March 1993. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ bell930302.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   41. Vincent Porter, BFI, ‘BFI Exhibition Policy: Films and Critical Concepts’, April 1986: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987).   42. BFI, Minutes of the Meeting of the Information Division, 10 February 1987: 2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Information Division Meetings 1983–1985).  43. See London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, ‘Distribution Report’, October 1978: 2–3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Distribution LFMC); and Felicity Sparrow, LFMC, letter to Peter Kulbelka, 9 October 1979. Source: courtesy of the Lux.

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  44. The same issue arose with VHS hires, and some distributors did consider phasing them out altogether.   45. Anna Thew, in interview with Duncan Reekie and Peter Thomas, 29 June 2005.  46. For instance, the American distributor Women Make Movies would be charging anything between two and four times as much as Cinenova for a VHS sale. The Other Cinema also noted this problem. See Sylvia Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema – A Short History, 1970–85’, July 1985, transcript of interview conducted with Peter Sainsbury, Paul Marris, Tony Kirkhope, Ann Lamont and Bridie Thompson: 11. Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema. The interview was published in two-parts in Screen, 26(6), November 1985 and Screen, 27(2), March 1986. Film and Video Umbrella experienced a similar problem in that UK arts venues could not pay the higher fees that artists from mainland Europe had come to expect (see Chapter 4).   47. BFI, Minutes, 10 February 1987, op. cit., p. 2.   48. Felicity Sparrow has observed that when she left the LFMC and set up Circles, filmmakers that placed their work exclusively with one of the distributors tended to do better than those that left work in both. In interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit.   49. This was partly because production-funding contracts could expressly prohibit groups from profiting from the funded work and partly because, in the case of issue based documentary work, the producers were usually keen to ensure the work reached its target audience. Murray Martin of Amber Films also argued that it made much more sense to get fully funded for their production work – and even give the resulting film away – than to have to deal with the problem of trying to recover costs through distribution. In interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 9 May 2006. John Wyver of Illuminations makes a similar point, as noted in Chapter 3.   50. BFI, Minutes, 10 February 1987, op. cit., p. 3. Woolworths was a high-street retail chain, stocking most household goods. Due to falling sales the chain closed down in December 2008.   51. As Felicity Sparrow has observed: ‘[W]ith Circles … I was putting my energies into selling to television because that was what was generating the money’. Sparrow, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004. Doing television sales also increases the visibility of the work which can in turn impact positively on the level of sales and hires to other markets.  52. David Critchley, ‘Report on the GLA Annual Review Meeting held at LVA on 29.11.88,’ December 1988: 4. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   53. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.   54. Rod Stoneman, in interview with Peter Thomas, 2 July 2003. Stoneman explained that there was some room for negotiation – if a film had won prizes, for instance, the producers might be able to negotiate a higher fee – but generally Channel 4 did not pay particularly high figures for broadcast rights compared to other channels. This proved a bone of contention with filmmaker Pat Murphy in the mid-1980s, when COW was negotiating a television sale of Anne Devlin (Eire 1984) to Channel 4. Murphy’s original asking price was £50,000 for 3 transmissions in light of an original investment of £250,000 in the film. Channel 4’s initial offer was £15,000 which they eventually increased to £17,500. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Anne Devlin/Communications with Pat-contract-Channel 4).   55. In some cases this was the reason for not more actively pursuing the video retail market. The sale prices were far lower than institutional prices, hence the return to the filmmaker was minimal unless unit sales were in the thousands.   56. Comedia, ‘London Video Artists’, 1988, op. cit., p. 16.

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 57. Deke Dusinberre, LFMC, ‘Revised budget to be presented to Film and Video Panel for consideration’, 1977–78: 9. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Peter Mudie’s papers).   58. Michael Maziere, Distribution and Marketing Manager, LVA, ‘LVA Distribution: Report and Application’, September 1991: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   59. Michael Maziere, LVA, letter to David Curtis, ACGB, 17 October 1991. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   60. Michael Maziere, Distribution and Exhibition Manager, LVA, letter to David Curtis, ACGB, 5 February 1992. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/10, LVA, box 1).   61. See de Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit; Debra Zimmerman, Women Make Movies, USA, in interview with Peter Thomas, 25 July 2005; Erich Sargeant, BFI Publishing, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 11 March 2005.   62. De Witt and Norrish, ibid.   63. Liane Harris and Sarah Bratby, Circles, letter to Circles film-makers, April 1991. Source: Cineova (Circ/COW meetings). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/circles9104.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   64. Eileen McNulty, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 May 2004.   65. Glenbuck Films came into being after the demise of Harris Films (see Chapter 3).   66. Debra Zimmerman, Women Make Movies, USA, in email correspondence with Julia Knight, 13 December 2006.  67. Cinenova was disadvantaged further by the fact that customers made payment direct to Glenbuck, who only forwarded Cinenova their 70 per cent share at six monthly intervals.   68. Irene Whitehead, Head of Funding and Development, BFI, ‘Joint Funders Strategy Group – London visits; Meeting with Circles, 21 November 1989’: 1. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group). Available at http://fv-distributiondatabase.ac.uk/PDFs/JFSGcircles891121.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   69. Cinenova, Board Meeting minutes, 9 September 1992: 3. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/CNmins920909.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).  70. Ibid.   71. Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit. See also Whitehead, ‘Joint Funders Strategy Group’, Meeting with Circles, 21 November 1989, op. cit., p. 2, where Whitehead also states ‘it is to be doubted whether, without revenue funding, this organisation will continue to exist’.  72.  Gill Henderson, former member of Circles Management Committee and former Chief Executive of LFVDA, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 September 2004. Almost by definition a distributor is servicing a national – and often international – customer base, which can make it difficult to access locally targeted funding initiatives.   73. In 1995, for instance, Helen de Witt went from working 4 days to 5 days per week to cover for Kate Norrish who was working on a lottery application. Both workers had previously been working 4 days a week each, totalling 8 person days per week. Hence de Witt’s 5 days a week represented a significant reduction in overall person days dedicated to Cinenova’s distribution activities while Norrish worked on the lottery application, but increased salary costs by one additional day per week.   74. Henderson, letter to Manning and Wallace, April 1991, op. cit.   75. Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.

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  76. Laura Hudson, former Cinenova worker, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 November 2004.   77. See for instance Sparrow in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit.; Thew, in interview with Reekie and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.; Mick Kidd in interview with Peter Thomas, 29 June 2005; and David Critchley in interview with Peter Thomas, 23 March 2005.   78. Margaret Trotter, former Cinenova Management Board member, in interview with Julia Knight, 23 June 2004.   79. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.   80. Comedia, ‘London Video Artists’, 1988, op. cit., pp. 14–15. The problem was raised as a sectorwide issue in the Boyden Southwood report, while former funders and distribution workers also repeatedly noted it in interview. See for instance Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.; Sparrow, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.; Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 23 March, 2005, op. cit.; and Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   81. Of her time at the LFMC in the late 1970s/early 1980s Anna Thew for instance commented that most workers were unable to handle money: ‘they couldn’t even pay their own rent so how were they going to be able to manage money?’ In interview with Reekie and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   82. Indeed, for 18 months of Laura Hudson’s four years at Cinenova she was the only employed worker.   83. Hudson, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.  84. Ibid.   85. See Sparrow, ‘Developing’, 1990, op. cit., p. 3, where she notes that the report concludes among other things: ‘few have managerial, financial or marketing skills (and wages are often too low to attract or keep these skills)’.   86. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., p. 27. Both Peter Sainsbury and Jeremy Welsh reported that they left The Other Cinema and LVA respectively when their first child was born. Sainsbury, in interview with Peter Thomas, 9 December 2004; Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit.   87. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.   88. And also of course by the fact that the BFI and the Arts Council could not co-revenue fund an organisation (see Chapter 1).   89. London Film-Makers’ Co-op, Minutes of the Co-op Policy Meeting, 19 June 1982: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/58/7, LFMC).   90. Ian Christie, BFI, letter to Jenny Holland, Circles, 13 August 1990. Source: Cinenova (Circ/ COW meetings). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/christie900813.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   91. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., pp. 19 and 24.   92. Michael O’Pray also made this point with regard to Film and Video Umbrella when they became an annual client of the Arts Council. In interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 7 June 2005.   93. See, for instance, Sarah Turner, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 8 March 2005.   94. Henderson, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit.   95. Eileen McNulty, former COW worker, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 19 May 2004.   96. Ibid.; Tony Kirkhope, in Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema’, 1985, op. cit., p. 19. Indeed, TOC had built up a selection of women’s work prior to COW setting up. 212

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  97. Ian Christie and Irene Whitehead, BFI, letter to COW and Circles, 25 March 1991: 1. Source: Cinenova (Circ/COW meetings). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ christie-whitehead910325.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   98. Ian Christie and Irene Whitehead, BFI, letter to Take Two, c/o Circles, 19 April 1991. Source: Cinenova (Circ/COW meetings). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ christie-whitehead910419.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   99. Manning and Wallace, letter to Circles, 23 April 1991, op. cit. 100. This is documented in an exchange of letters between Circles and COW: ibid; and Henderson, letter to Manning and Wallace, 30 April 1991, op. cit. 101. Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit.; see also Henderson, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 102. Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing’, 1989, ‘Chart 1’, op. cit., p. 125. 103. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. She discussed how in the late 1980s COW had started to take on work that dealt with – albeit from a feminist perspective – the health service, unemployment, the situation in Northern Ireland, and families, which ‘could still plug into what people were interested in’. 104. Helen de Witt, in email correspondence with Julia Knight, 11 December 2006; Zimmerman, email, 13 December 2006, op. cit. Henderson, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit., has also echoed this view. Indeed, both Zimmerman and Henderson have also suggested that an additional factor in the breakdown of the merger negotiations may have been concerns on the part of Circles that any merger would have been more of a COW take-over. But the importance of a strong catalogue is also demonstrated by the case of The Other Cinema, as discussed in Chapter 2. 105. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 106. London Film and Video Development Agency, fax to Cinenova regarding ‘Cinenova Assessment/ Review’, 28 January 1994. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distributiondatabase.ac.uk/PDFs/LFVDA940128.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 107. Blanchard, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 108.  London Film and Video Development Agency, fax to Cinenova, 1994, op. cit. 109. Lis Rhodes, in interview with Peter Thomas, 27 May 2005. See also Elaine Burrows, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 15 June 2004. 110. Liane Harris, Cinenova, letter to Cinenova Board members, 2 August 1992. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. 111. Judith Higginbottom, in interview with Chris Rodrigues and Peter Thomas, 5 December 2003. 112. Julia Knight, ‘Cinenova – A Sign of the Times’, Screen 33(2), Summer 1992: 184–89. As part of the Circles viewing panel, Sarah Turner also reported experiencing this attitude from some women filmmakers. In interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 113. Harris, in interview with Knight, 1991, op. cit. 114. McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. COW gave the first feature films by Marleen Gorris, Lizzie Borden and Sheila Mclaughlin their UK releases, but the directors took their second films elsewhere. 115. Catherine Elwes, Video Loupe (London: KT Press, 2000), pp. 10–11. 116. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 117. Hudson, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 118. For instance, negative feedback from hirers resulted in COW withdrawing a film about a lesbian on one occasion. See Charlotte Brunsdon (ed.) Films for Women (London: BFI, 1986), p. 227.

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119. Sparrow, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 120. Circles, ‘Black Women and Invisibility: Press Screening at the Metro’, 11 March 1987. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 11). 121. Quoted in Knight, ‘Cinenova’, 1992, op. cit., p. 185. 122. Zimmerman, in interview with Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 123. Debra Zimmerman, in email correspondence with Julia Knight, 11 December 2006. 124. Ibid. 125. De Witt and Norrish, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 126. Zimmerman, email, 11 December 2006, op. cit. 127. Cinenova, ‘Meeting with Debra Zimmerman of Women Make Movies’, 10 January 2001. Source: Cinenova (Board Correspondence and Meetings 2001, Women Make Moves). 128. Trotter, in interview with Knight, 2004, op. cit. Cinenova, letter to Cinenova Film-makers, 10 April 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Judith Higginbottom. According to Zimmerman, WMM had no intention of ‘taking over’ Cinenova since it would jeopardise the clear identity that WMM had forged for itself. See Zimmerman, email, 11 December 2006, op. cit. 129. Welsh, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2005, op. cit. 130. See, for instance, Critchley, in interview with Thomas, 2003, op. cit; and McNulty, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. This issue is also documented in some of the minutes of the Council of Management Meetings for The Other Cinema. For instance, the news that TOC’s Charlotte Street cinema project was likely to bankrupt them, whether they proceeded with it or not, caused the COM and staff to turn on each other, with staff demanding policy of the COM, and the COM demanding better financial information. In a classic exchange, staffer Tony Kirkhope informed the COM that ‘if we [the COM] wanted monthly figures he could give the[m], but we had to read them’. Minutes of Council of Management Meeting, The Other Cinema, 7 June 1976: 2. Source: courtesy of The Other Cinema. Available at http://fvdistribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/TOCmins760607.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 131. Although 20 years or so earlier, The Other Cinema’s Charlotte Street cinema had also failed to attract sufficient grant aid and was trying to operate on a more commercially viable basis. In their assessment of the project, the funders similarly concluded that the collective management structure had impeded its success (see Chapter 2). Indeed, LFMC member Mike Leggett and Deb Ely, who worked at Bristol’s Watershed during the 1980s, have argued the need for strong leadership when attempting to survive in a more commercial, mainstream environment and that it is difficult in such circumstances to operate effectively under a collective management structure. Leggett and Ely, in interview with Peter Thomas, 7 February 2004. 132. Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit. Felicity Sparrow also made a similar point, in interview with Knight and Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 133. Harris and Bratby, letter to Circles’ Film-makers, 1991, op. cit. 134. Whitehead, in interview with Thomas, 2004, op. cit. 135. Bell, letter to Cinenova, 1993, op. cit. 136. Gill Henderson, Kate Norrish and Liane Harris, Cinenova, letter to Stephen Bell, BFI, 9 March 1993. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ CN930309.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 137. Of course, in real terms this meant Cinenova experienced an overall reduction in its annual revenue grant across those six years.

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T

he arts funding enquiries, consultancies, reports and restructures that changed the face of the independent film and video sector between 1989 and 1991 (see Chapter 5) had little to do with the groups themselves, their performance or relative merits. Nor did the groups have a significant chance to influence the process. While members of the emergent sector had had significant success influencing funding policy during the 1970s and early 1980s, this should be seen as achievements and ideas surging from below to gain the ear of interested parties in positions of influence above. On the one hand, a series of artists and activists entered various institutions and made good listening posts there – Malcolm Le Grice (LFMC) and Peter Sainsbury (The Other Cinema [TOC]) to the BFI Production Board; Nigel Algar (TOC) to the BFI Film Availability Service; David Curtis (LFMC) became Assistant Film Officer at the Arts Council; Hilary Thompson (Independent Cinema West) to the BFI Production Board; Alan Fountain had frequented underground and independent film events for 10 years1 before becoming Film Officer at East Midlands Arts, then joining the BFI Production Board and later becoming Commissioning Editor of the Channel Four Independent Film and Video Department; Rod Stoneman (South West Independent Film Tour organiser, LFMC Working Party) to the BFI Production Board2 and later Assistant Commissioning Editor of the Channel Four Independent Film and Video Department; Paul Marris (TOC Cinema) became Film and Video Officer for the GLC’s Arts and Recreation Committee; and Judith Higginbottom (Circles videomaker and tour organiser) became South West Arts Film Officer. On the other hand, their entry to these positions itself showed the institutions’ interest in the sector. These institutions have their own histories, however, and much that determines those histories comes from yet further above. The national funders, the British Film Institute (BFI) and Arts Council, receive most of their money directly from central government, though the department from which that issues has varied.3 Regional funders – the former Regional Arts Associations (RAAs) and Arts Boards – received their money from local government and national funders. Local government, from the borough to the former Metropolitan County Council levels, also directly fund arts and cultural activity, alongside a myriad of private foundations and charities. As shown in earlier chapters, the independent groups were quite adept at securing support from all these sources, from LFMC’s premises acquisition meeting with local authority, Greater London Arts Association, BFI and Gulbenkian Foundation representatives at the Camden Town Hall in 1975,4 to Cinema of Women’s theatrical launch of Leila and the Wolves (Heiny Srour, 1984) with support from Co-operation for Development, the International Broadcasting 217

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Trust, the GLC Women’s Committee Support Unit, GLC Ethnic Arts Sub-Committee, and help in kind from the BFI.5 Nonetheless, the significance of the direct government money should not be underestimated, and the period from 1980 to 1990 saw several seismic shifts in this funding apparatus. During the early and mid 1980s, the national government sought to forcibly restrain local government spending, successfully abolishing the Greater London Council (GLC) and Metropolitan County Councils (MCCs) in 1986, and imposing rate-caps on local authorities. In 1984 the Arts Council committed to a regionalisation strategy, known as The Glory of the Garden,6 that saw it devolve funds and clients to RAAs, whether those clients liked it or not.7 The abolition of the GLC and MCCs led to the ‘replacement money’ arrangement, whereby money approximating the cultural funding of the abolished Councils was distributed to local, regional and national bodies. Again clients were transferred to new funders since, whether they liked it or not, their old ones no longer existed. From 1987 the national government started to restrict the purposes for which funders could offer grants, leading to a new kind of grant called Incentive Funding and the formation of the Arts Council’s Great Britain Touring Fund, and to a proportionate diminution in funds available for other purposes. In 1988 the Office of Arts and Libraries (OAL) – the direct source of Arts Council and BFI funds – undertook an enquiry into the functioning of national and regional arts funding, led by the outgoing OAL Head, Richard Wilding. The Wilding Review produced Supporting the Arts: A Review of the Structure of Arts Funding,8 recommending further devolution and far tighter controls on the regional bodies, which were restructured and relaunched as Regional Arts Boards (RABs) in 1993. In the midst of the Wilding Review, film and video funders undertook their own reviews of regional provision, most famously the Joint Funders Strategy Group’s ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’ consultancy, best known as the Boyden Southwood Report, which focused on the London region9 (see Chapter 5). Throughout the 1980s, but more rapidly in its closing years, these reviews, reports and new policies altered where funding could be sought and for what, chiefly by placing restrictions on funding bodies and holding them to ever more specific ‘targets’. The Boyden Southwood Report and its time are correctly associated with a wave of defundings that precipitated the collapse of many independent film and video groups. But given from how far above these forces were issuing, it is not so surprising that from 12 RAAs only 10 RABs emerged.10 In London, a restructure crisis at Greater London Arts (GLA) led the BFI to withdraw support and, in 1992, to launch the London Film and Video Development Agency as an alternative to providing regional support through the London Arts Board (LAB). While other Media Development Agencies had emerged in England, this was the first to be created both by a national funder and as an alternative to the existing regional body. The regional schism that this entailed artificially reduced the ability of the national bodies to continue to co-fund the London region, and, in an increasingly devolved system, relegated the LAB to the margins of film and video funding. The Wilding Review’s most far-reaching recommendation was the amalgamation of the Arts Council and RAAs into a ‘single system’, but this was not attempted at the time. The 218

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Arts Council of Great Britain (ACGB) was replaced by the Arts Council of England (1994), and the Film Council was created from the Arts Council Lottery Film Department and the grant-giving departments of the BFI (2000),11 before the Arts Council of England tried (2001) and then succeeded (2002) in forcibly merging the RABs into its own structure, relaunching them as Regional Arts Councils (Arts Council England, Arts Council London etc).12 This process saw all remaining Arts Council England direct clients compulsorily devolved to the regional councils.13 In 2006 a new structure was adopted that, while allowing regional heads far more power in central decision-making, conversely reduced regional autonomy from those decisions.14 This final unification of organisations and decision-making led directly, at Christmas 2007, to the largest round of defundings in Arts Council history.15 Nor was this a mistake or accident, as Arts Council England (ACE) had proposed this Investment Strategy to the Treasury during the Comprehensive Spending Review months before, and the ACE’s better than expected block grant for 2008–9 was given on this basis.16 In the midst of this calamity, the Department of Culture, Media and Sport released its latest report, the optimistically titled Supporting Excellence in the Arts.17 Agency and Agency Though not on the scale of the Christmas 2007 cull, the series of defundings associated with the Wilding Review18 and Boyden Southwood Report dramatically reduced the independent film and video sector. While many of those responsible for past strategic coups – like the Workshop Declaration and the policy documents behind the Livingstone GLC’s various funding initiatives – remained active, only a small number of rearguard actions were successfully fought. But it is also worth noticing how much of the agenda set by the independent movement remained key policy goals for funding in the 1990s, such as anti-discrimination, access to the means of production and dissemination, and the need for affordable training. The shift was in who would provide it, and this cost many groups their roles in what had become the funded provision of service, which is to say their funding.19 If the period up to the mid 1980s shows the possibilities for small campaigning groups, the period from the Wilding Review and epiphenomena like the Boyden Southwood Report, both in 1989, shows more clearly the roles of and determinants on funding bodies, as this is the period where agency was passed from the former to the latter, as the journey through the 1990s of those groups who remained demonstrates. But if Cinenova’s history shows the consequences of lacking substantial support from funding bodies – as discussed in Chapter 5 – this chapter explores how the trajectory of the LFMC, London Video Access/London Electronic Arts (LVA/LEA), and the Lux Centre demonstrates the opposite: the hazards of funder enthusiasm, and the role in funded service provision that this entailed. The Lux Centre was first mooted in 198920 as a joint residence for the LFMC and LVA, both of which needed new premises. But it took so long and enjoyed such strong funder 219

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attention that its story shows the influence of nearly every important opportunity, challenge and crisis in the funding sector from 1990 to 2001. Looking back at this history as the Lux Centre’s final crisis rose to engulf it, London Film and Video Development Agency’s Chief Executive Officer Gill Henderson commented that: I have spent many a long hour wading through the paperwork of the history of the relocation of LFMC and LEA. It makes salutary reading and frankly none of the funders emerge from this demonstrating great foresight. But what really struck me [is] that every key decision down the path was made not by the Co-op or LEA but for them.21 While this characterisation did little credit to the LFMC and LEA (who had by then merged into the Lux), it is important for drawing attention to the funders’ own predicament. This was written in the midst of a ‘reattribution exercise’, the process by which funders subject to restructure agree amongst themselves on how to share available funds and the burden of funding such a group or policy outcome. In order to first achieve funding, groups generally have to make applications to one or more funders, frequently repeatedly. So, during the reattribution exercise that preceded the 1986 abolition of the GLC and MCCs,22 it came as a surprise to some that they received new funders without any effort, or input, of their own. Reattribution exercises demand a high level of coordination between funding bodies, resulting in a great deal of complex work in a foreshortened time period that stretches administrative capacities. That is without taking into account preferences of the funded groups. Thus these exercises are especially useful for understanding how funding institutions work because it removes the influence of external factors, such as the funded groups, their applications and aspirations. The Lux Centre story is bracketed by two reattribution exercises, the 1986 Abolition settlement that led to the Wilding Review, and the reattribution exercise that preceded the creation of the Film Council in 2000. The reattribution exercise preceding the Abolition coordinated the distribution of the ‘replacement money’, or ‘Abolition funds’, money to partially replace that disbursed by the GLC and MCCs. This money was deliberately redistributed to every conceivable level: the national level of the Arts Council and BFI, the regional level of GLA and South West Arts (SWA), the borough level and to new inter-borough entities like the London Boroughs Grants Scheme (LBGS).23 Although the Conservative national government specifically instructed the surviving funders that they were under no obligation continue the GLC and MCCs’ funding choices,24 the complexity of the reattribution was caused by the funders’ own decisions to do just that: divide responsibility for the existing funded groups. There were at least two good reasons for this. One was that the surviving funders were already engaged in funding threatened groups, as the BFI was with LFMC and Cinema of Women (COW), and the Arts Council with LVA, LFMC and Circles. The other is that the funders’ own budgets, and those of their administrative subsections, such as the BFI’s Funding and Development department and the ACGB’s Artists’ Film and Video Committee, were linked to the amount they could justify in light of external clients supported. Thus failure to jointly campaign for 220

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the maximum amount of replacement money and collude in its disbursement risked two unlovely possibilities: inheriting an impractical funding load and/or seeing valued funding clients collapse. In practice, many funding staff behaved as if the replacement money was inextricably linked to particular groups, and that inheriting that money was justified by agreeing to support those groups. This was why, and how, the funders successfully bid up the replacement settlement from £16m for the ACGB and £1m for the BFI, to £25m and £1.3m respectively.25 The ACGB directed £8.5m straight to London, where ‘the Arts Council’s longestablished policy to encourage contributions to the arts from all local authorities’26 had found an enthusiastic partner in the GLC. ACGB Secretary-General Luke Rittner wrote to GLA that: It is clearly important, therefore, that our programme of negotiations with individual boroughs is pursued as expeditiously as possible, so that the Council can measure the extent of the boroughs’ support for the arts after abolition. I do not need to stress the urgency of quantifying specific subsidies for specific organisations and activities on a borough by borough basis, as the new financial year rapidly approaches.27 (our italics) For their part, GLA was insisting that, even after undertaking ‘a ruthless exercise … to secure key clients only’, £10m was the minimum needed to maintain essential groups.28 Thus, at the very time that a proactive funding model was replacing a reactive one, this reattribution exercise unexpectedly shows that the development of the groups and their need for regular funding was not an irritation to the beleaguered state agencies, but a core justification of their being and budgetary levels. Add to this that the replacement money was the only substantial upward movement in the surviving arts funders’ budgets in the 1980s (an illusion created by this transfer),29 and the furious, client-centred horse-trading that characterised this reattribution exercise is not hard to explain. But it locked the surviving funders into a delicate political deal in which each relied on the others to keep their end of the bargain. Further, by increasing the funding bodies’ proprietary interest in their clients, this further removed the groups’ fates from their own control. If Cinema Action were chagrined at their forcible transfer to the BFI, others benefited from intervention. In 1987 the BFI’s Funding and Development department defended Circles and Four Corners against defunding by Tower Hamlets Borough,30 and in 1988 it convinced the LBGS to reverse their decision to defund Circles.31 In both cases the defence was on the basis of the partnership agreements of the post-Abolition funding package, understood explicitly as the link between replacement money and particular groups.32 But if funding bodies were increasingly prepared to defend their clients, they also expected those clients to cooperate. This might mean restructuring and abandoning collectivist practices, as it did for LVA in 1988 (see Chapter 4). It could mean merging with their rival, as it did for Circles and COW in 1990 (see Chapter 5). Or it could mean accepting funder choice of building and development plan, as it did for LFMC and LVA from 1991. All these were an expression of relative funder enthusiasm, as the many groups defunded 221

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from 1988–91 knew. It frequently involved engaging in gestural consultancies, as LVA did in 1988,33 LFMC and LVA did in 1990,34 and Circles and COW did in 1990–91,35 and the most important of these consultancies was the Boyden Southwood Report, commissioned by the Joint Funders Strategy Group (JFSG) to reinterpret the London independent sector as fundable in the ‘new reality’. The Glory of the Garden36 Overtaken by New Reality: 1984–89 One of the most perplexing aspects of the history of the UK independent film and video sector is that it seemed to prosper, especially in access to state funding, through much of the 1980s. Despite Arts Minister Norman St John-Stevas’s warning in 1981 that arts organisations should seek alternative sources of funds,37 during the successive terms of the Conservative Thatcher government the groups received sums that would have been unthinkable in the 1970s. Through the first half of the 1980s this rising support was substantially from local government, especially its County Council top tier, whose funding was not (then) influenced by the national government. The belated cull of independent groups in the late-1980s was an after effect of the abolition of the County Councils and the rate-capping of local authorities, but mediated through two other devolutionary moves, the ACGB’s 1984 The Glory of the Garden38 policy and the Office of Arts and Libraries’ 1989 Wilding review and its Supporting the Arts report.39 Throughout the pre-Abolition period, the national government enjoyed substantial conflict with local government as a whole, including Conservative local members.40 Although the national government announced its policy to abolish the GLC and MCCs in 1983,41 the legislation that enabled the Abolition was not passed until 16 July 1985,42 nor were its provisions enacted until 1 April 1986.43 Between the Abolition and rate-capping, all levels of local government lost their budgetary autonomy over this period, but the length of time it took the national government to impose these controls shows the depth of resistance they encountered. The militant Labour GLC and MCCs were elected on the initial backlash to the Conservative national government’s austerity policies,44 and they re-adopted the public investment strategy for dealing with the recession that the national government had rejected.45 Cinema of Women (COW), LVA, The Other Cinema (TOC), Circles and the LFMC directly benefited from the GLC, and its agency the Greater London Enterprise Board (GLEB), identifying London’s cultural sector as an important employer and industry worthy of development funding. While vigorously supporting many workshops and playing an instrumental role in resourcing the Workshop Franchise, the GLC also saw distribution as an important area and supported it more generously than funders before or since. Further, when their proposed Abolition became a certainty, the GLC and MCCs engaged in ‘tombstone funding’, deliberately increasing grants both to insure favoured groups against the future and raise the amounts that would be devolved to other funders in the reattribution exercise.46 Prior to the sealing of the fate of the top-tier of local government in Britain, the ACGB had released their 222

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first ever overall strategy, The Glory of the Garden, proposing substantial devolution of funds and decision-making to the Regional Arts Associations (RAAs), partly on the basis of match funding from local government sources. Between these developments – abolition money, and clients and their funding devolved by the ACGB – by 1989 the RAAs were handling substantially increased revenues, some £30 million. The Wilding Review was delegated to suggest a robust system of accounting to parliament for the increased public money and charged to remove ‘duplication’ from the system. From this perspective, any kind of overlap in competencies, interests and actions could be ‘duplication’, which was then necessarily seen as inefficiency and waste. This was not good news for the uneasy truce that existed between the BFI and Arts Council on the funding of film and video. The Conservative government levelled demands for ‘the three e’s: economy, efficiency and effectiveness’,47 plus accountability and transparency, at various targets throughout the 1980s. Further, it had accompanied a more general devolution of responsibility and funds from the centre down with an unprecedented attack on the spending power and autonomy of local government. Indeed, it has been argued that in trying to ‘roll back’ government spending, the Conservative government referred chiefly to the spending of the tiers below themselves.48 Because local authorities and the GLC and MCCs could and did raise their own funds independently, curbing their spending required more than simple funding cuts from the centre. It also required the stepped stripping of autonomy, both to limit the ability to independently raise funds and to control how money was spent. Given that this was the government’s long-term strategy, any devolutionary move could be the prelude to a secondary strategy that, stressing efficiency and accountability, choked off funds and controlled the use of what remained. Consequently, the independent sector’s seemingly charmed passage through the 1980s, while the BFI took refuge behind a Royal Charter,49 the GLC and MCCs were abolished, and Local Authorities were rate-capped, left it in an extremely vulnerable position. Directly after the Conservative government was returned in 1987, Minister for the Arts Richard Luce (who later commissioned the Wilding Review) explained the ‘new reality’ to the annual conference of the Council of Regional Arts Associations (CoRAA) thus: ‘the objective of this government is to reduce the role of the state and expand the scope for private initiative, choice and enterprise’.50 While not a novel sentiment for a Thatcherite minister, this language of ‘enterprise’, ‘incentives’ to abandon ‘welfarism’ and a ‘new reality’ was soon to be written over the documents describing the run of late 1980s defundings that destroyed the independent sector. This period allows us to see how centrally imposed strategies were able to strip film and video funders of much of their autonomy. The predicament of funders being themselves funded and subject to non-negotiable targets is amply demonstrated by the BFI in 1988. In September 1988 the BFI Operations Group was hearing from Irene Whitehead in their Funding and Development department about various disavowals of the Abolition deal, such as the LBGS’s defunding of the Women’s Film, Television and Video Network (WFTVN) and attempted defunding of Circles, Camden borough’s hiking of Fantasy Factory’s rent and Tower Hamlets’ reluctance to confirm Four Corners’ grant.51 But Whitehead was 223

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simultaneously engaged in a forced rationalisation of her own portfolio. While her overall budget remained largely static, it was now split into Direct Grants (i.e. funding given directly to groups rather than channelled through RAAs) and Development Grants, the latter being privileged by the OAL’s ‘incentive funding’ targets.52 Consequently, by January 1989 she had decided to cut WFTVN herself,53 while targeting ‘another representative body’ for cutting in 1990–1.54 Though protesting to the BFI Directorate that ‘it is a risky process to sacrifice ongoing subsidy to one-off incentive funding’, the OAL position left little alternative.55 Back in July 1987 Arts Minister Luce’s speech to CoRAA described ‘incentive funding’ as grants ‘to improve management and professionalism and above all private sector fund-raising’.56 For the ACGB this meant that part of their annual grant had to be earmarked for these purposes, £5m in 1988–9, £6m in 1989–90 and £7m in 1990–1, leaving the amount of grant available for all other types of funding rising at only 4.1 per cent, 2.8 per cent and 2.7 per cent respectively, all of which were falls against inflation.57 For BFI Funding and Development, it meant RAA funding increases of 2.9 per cent in 1989/90 and 2 per cent in 1990/91, while Direct Grants increased by 4.4 per cent and 0 per cent respectively.58 Thus Funding and Development were obliged to take a ‘risky’ path that they had not chosen, not because of lack of money – overall finances were down little – but because of central directives controlling what money could be used for. This attack on ‘welfarist’ type annual revenue grants created a crisis for funded groups, a crisis for the funders that relied on them to show performance, and an increasing pool of money that had to go somewhere. Consultancy firms were kept busy producing a bewildering array reports purporting to show strategies that would massively improve funded groups’ self-generated income. Applications for any conceivable kind of funding were entertained if they could be justified by this hope, including traditional capital grants for equipment, market research, restructuring exercises and so forth. With notable exceptions, the list of groups receiving this kind of grant from BFI Funding and Development is a roll-call of those who would not see much of the 1990s: •  Albany Video and Video Engineering and Training (VET): £2200 towards market research for a media centre for South London, plus £6000 seed funding for a video engineer for VET; •  Luton 33 Video: £2000 for business development plan, £5000 for business plan and structural review; •  Video Vera in Leeds: £7000 for a marketing and business consultancy regarding their new premises; •  Independent Film, Video and Photography Association Manchester: £1000 for a media sector survey and strategy report; •  Media Education Centre in Cardiff: £5000 for desktop publishing equipment.59 Funding staff such as Whitehead hoped that the subsidised training courses on planning and marketing would equip ‘the “independent” sector with the relevant business skills to survive 224

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and hopefully flourish in the arid environment of the new reality’.60 But, not uniquely, the Society for Education in Film and Television (SEFT), after commissioning a study into its organisation, went into ‘voluntary liquidation’.61 When Whitehead compiled the list above, covering just January–March 1989, the Association of Black Workshops (ABW) and what had become the Independent Film, Video and Photography Association (IFVPA) were the next in line to discuss the results of their recent, future-oriented consultancies. It has to be faced that virtually none of these groups were able to survive without continued, ‘welfarist’ funding. As discussed in Chapters 4 and 5, in the 1990s surviving groups like Cinenova and FVU all required larger annual revenue grants to afford their increased activity, as had groups like LFMC and LVA in the 1970s and 1980s (see Chapters 1 and 5). Although consultancies demonstrating the opposite remained compulsory for surviving groups, it is difficult to know if anyone took them seriously. The Circles-COW merger consultancy demonstrated solvency within four years, based chiefly on TV sales of COW-type titles. Whitehead has said that she thought the consultancy unconvincing,62 and in any case the BFI jeopardised Cinenova’s access to COW titles and expertise by scuppering the merger (see Chapter 5). Thus Cinenova was launched with little reference to, or possibility of enacting, the consultancy that legitimated their funding. LFMC, LEA and Lux all promised lower subsidy requirements through consultancies, but not only did this not occur, its relevance to the situation is hard to judge. The London Film and Video Development Agency’s copy of the Lux Centre’s final solvent accounts simply has ‘bollocks’ written by hand across the cover, but this did not diminish the energy with which the Agency campaigned to save the organisation. Just as the continued funding of groups was not a vote of belief in their ability to earn income in the new reality, neither was defunding a reference to this. The Boyden Southwood Report: Mixed Messages in the Mixed Economy In 1990 BFI Funding and Development’s own Direct Grants budget and responsibility were devolved to other BFI departments. This reattribution of groups and money to activityspecific departments – production groups to Production, distribution groups to Distribution etc – meant match-funding agreements within the BFI were required simply to maintain the former Funding and Development’s ‘commitments’.63 This is why it took both Whitehead and Ian Christie (BFI Distribution) to oversee the failed merger of Circles and COW. In such circumstances, the possibilities of forming a long-term strategy to maintain Abolitionera co-funding arrangements were low indeed. But throughout 1989 one of the regional consultancies that Funding and Development were supporting, the GLA-led Joint Funders Strategy Group’s (JFSG) Boyden Southwood Report, finessed a paper explanation of how this might be done for the London region independent sector. Although even simple continuity in intent was proving impossible for many of the delegates to JFSG – while Whitehead gave Circles £2000 for a business development plan in November 1989,64 by June 1990 the BFI 225

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diktat that they merge with COW would require a whole new one65 – this report provides an excellent guide to the broken thinking underlying what did happen in the 1990s. Charged with maintaining Abolition-era London-region match funding arrangements into the 1990s, the Boyden Southwood Report is naturally a highly optimistic document. Beyond the survival of these funding arrangements, the report also assumes that the funders will be able to resource their policy outcomes – largely conceived as marketing projects – and that the workshop movement, in which so much had been invested over the previous decade, would continue to have an important role in the delivery of access and training. It even conceives of the IFVPA London section as being ‘the forum through which the funders discuss strategic differences with those who are funded’ and a place which would itself develop ‘strategic ideas’.66 An important recommendation was that the funders jointly create an agency, or at the very least a dedicated post, to connect the independent groups to external funding or sponsorship opportunities.67 Although something like this did happen, the London Film and Video Development Agency (LFVDA) critically lacked the support and co-operation of the Arts Council and its new regional funder, the London Arts Board (LAB), so the difference between the LFVDA and the projected agency only highlights the damage done by the collapse of the Abolition-era alliances. But the LFVDA performed many of the tasks suggested in the report, particularly in the case of the Lux development. Most quixotically, the report astutely observed that the growing burden of funder-mandated paperwork was a distraction and should be radically cut back.68 In fact, the burden of reporting, being reviewed and applying for funding only grew thereafter, and much of this would be imposed on surviving London groups by the LFVDA – as was the case for Cinenova (see Chapter 5). Further, funder interest in discussing differences with the funded would be at something of a historic low (see Chapters 4 and 5). The survey function of the report provides a snapshot of the London independent sector in 1989, and this offers further evidence of the disconnection between earned income and survival in the 1990s. It shows for instance the robust performance of video workshop Fantasy Factory and Albany Video Distribution. GLA cut Fantasy Factory in 1991, and by then had already put Albany Video Distribution on three-year sunset-type incentive funding. The report also illustrates the extent to which COW’s distribution income outstripped Circles’ and the smallness of LFMC’s receipts.69 But, in the manner of Comedia’s LVA Management review of 1988 (see Chapter 4), the report works very hard to separate the groups as a whole from any sense of history and achievement beyond the gaining of funding itself, and then reads much of their historical activity back to them as new suggestions. The report attacks the independent sector most obviously by relentlessly putting the term in quotes and only referring to commercial companies as no-quotes independent.70 While this raises the very real problem of grant dependency, the unfriendly comparison with ‘economic independents’ also raises its own questions of sense. Firstly, the managerially elegant and financially robust activities of the ‘economic independents’ were of little or no relevance to the funders’ own performance targets. The ‘economic independents’ had not pioneered or supplied access and training, but instead were the ones whose commercial strategies had provoked the demand 226

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for them. Independent distribution is likewise libeled with the charge that it has little interest, expertise or history of marketing,71 humiliated by the comparison of their earnings with commercial distribution (including blockbuster cinema releases, children’s films etc)72 and potentially delegitimated by the charge that most of their distribution income is made from imports rather than British independent work.73 But, between cutting groups down to size thus and later suggestions titled ‘clearing the ground’, the report swings around and clearly acknowledges that funders are chiefly interested in funded activity, asserting even that the funders’ priority areas require funding.74 These priority areas turn out to be the long-term raison d’êtres of the independent movement: access, equal opportunities, exposure for the under or misrepresented. The report absolutely links the survival of these things to their continued funding but, as the independent distributers and the IFVPA had done, they see the marketing of work as key in increasing earned income and exposure (and so performance against targets). The efforts of independent distributors to develop audiences for their work have been covered elsewhere in this book, and the Boyden Southwood Report itself covers Albany Video Distribution’s strategies in some detail, but it then blithely ignores the lot when prescribing increased marketing as the panacea. Only two years previously the IFVPA had brought out Off the Shelf: A Video Marketing Workbook; and The Videoactive Report (1985) discussed in Chapter 3 was actually a proposal to found a promotional agency.75 The Boyden Southwood Report presents the emphasis on marketing and promotion as fresh ideas, just as Comedia had presented marketing and the chasing of TV sales to LVA the year before, in that case blithely ignoring that LVA had mounted its own highly successful promotional campaign years previously (see Chapter 4). At that time, LVA had doubled its distribution income with TV sales and without additional funding, only to see the ACGB-Channel 4 co-production deal cut them out (see Chapter 3). But, as with the LVA review, the report at least presented marketing as a proper target for funding, and recommended a ‘specifically earmarked marketing fund’76 supported by the BFI and an audience development officer funded by GLA.77 Neither of these came to pass, but by taking the aims and achievements of the independent groups and attributing them to the funding bodies as policy targets, the report passed all agency to the funding bodies to achieve what were now their ends in whichever way seemed most efficient. The report’s mapping exercise provided funders with an estimation of the equipment and expertise that they might deploy in pursuing this aim, while the report and its recommendations vigorously undercut the sector’s idea of itself and the dignity of its structures. It warned that ‘[f]uzzy historic notions of collectives and co-operatives … should not be tolerated’,78 and in a statement that is neither argued for nor elaborated on, suggested that ‘[t]here are instances where increased co-operation or formal merger [of distributors] might lead to a more effective presence for independent work’.79 Over the next eighteen months a failed merger saw COW liquidated and Circles restructured as Cinenova, a distributor which was not a co-operative and which outsourced its dispatch in order to focus staff time on marketing. The expectation of marketing grants was rarely fulfilled, but, as 227

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covered in Chapter 5, this outsourcing cost Cinenova 30 per cent of its distribution income, which went to the BFI’s wholly owned subsidiary, Glenbuck. LFMC and LVA were able to shrug off suggestions that they also merge, at least partly because the BFI had conceived more ambitious plans for them, which are mentioned with some enthusiasm in the report as ‘an exciting exhibition space specializing in artists’ work with a gallery and café space attached … [which] would considerably enhance the status and profile of this work’.80 One of the report’s odder preoccupations is with the appearance of groups’ premises. Given that surviving groups were meant to operate confidently in the commercial arena, this makes some sense. But considering their historic austerity and the increasing grudgingness with which grants were given, the aim that all groups would have nice looking rooms with excellent disabled access seems misplaced. However, this exercise of mapping equipment, delegitimising the organisations that held it and casual talk of merger links up around the idea of concentrating remaining groups in a small number of buildings. These groups would either merge or otherwise have their activity re-focused around funder priorities. Given the increasing budgetary pressure on all, it might be thought that this was a cost cutting exercise, as when the Circles-COW merger plan projected that the new group reside in Circles’ cheaper Tower Hamlets rooms. But the BFI discouraged this, firmly suggesting that the new company move to The Other Cinema’s far more expensive Soho building.81 What was at stake here was not economy but profile raising through the better appointed and located premises. This is another item in the conflict between funder exhortations for groups to need less state subsidy and the increasing amounts given to surviving groups in the 1990s. Raising the profile of work had already become the key concern of the state agencies and, despite rhetoric to the contrary, they remained willing to pay. In the ‘New Reality’ this had become a far more attractive option than the lower cost drip-feed of revenue grants. The BFI’s key vehicle for this, the ‘media centre’, quickly became so overused as a solution to everything that, as early as December 1987, the RAAs’ Regional Consultative Committee (RCC) had been obliged to ask what the term was meant to mean. When the RCC Working Party on Media Centres met in April 1988, they produced a document so rich with caveats that the author admits to only a few salient unifying characteristics.82 Importantly, the media centre developments all contained exhibition plus some other aspects of an ‘integrated practice’, but were distinctly ‘exhibition led’.83 This dovetailed with the other salient features, such as their visibility, variously described as ‘prestige’, ‘flagships’ and ‘high profile initiatives’,84 and the tremendous utility of this in drawing partnership funding.85 Such ventures were also thought to have high revenue earning capacity.86 But given that visibility and source of funds, rather than what the centres actually did, were the basis of any similarity, the report concludes that the centres can only be defined as ‘flexible strategic interventions’ 87 or ‘strategic, high level, intervention[s]’.88 In the context of 1988, the RCC and the report’s author Steve McIntyre (BFI Funding and Development) thought it important to stress several times that the imperatives of the New Reality should not result in ‘fetishising big projects to the exclusion of everything else’,89 that ‘cultural development 228

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cannot only be based on prestige “flagship” projects’,90 and ‘it is essential that the concept of media centres is not allowed to expand to fill all policy space’.91 This moderation is less in evidence in the Boyden Southwood Report and is not discernable in the impressive series of partnership deals that underwrote the Lux Centre development. The RCC media centre report observed that ‘the new realism’ and its ‘growing emphasis on one-off investment and short term incentive funding’92 pushed in the direction of media centre developments, but ‘emphasis’ is the wrong word. The top slicing of the funders’ budgets that reserved money for ‘incentive’ and ‘enterprise’ uses forced the agencies to find such projects and their funding matches in order to release the money at all. This imperative altered the kind of roles the agencies offered groups in the funded provision of service. The rhetoric of the New Reality and the Boyden Southwood Report seems to favour groups capable of focusing their activities, managing themselves and raising a substantial section of their budget from trade. Thus the report details the revenue earning achievements of video-access facility Fantasy Factory and Albany Video Distribution, both ideally focused and, as it turned out, managerially able to survive without funding. Both experienced rocky periods of economic self-sufficiency in the early 1990s, which only a very few groups have managed at any time. Albany Video Distribution closed abruptly after cuts to education left their core market unable to afford the service, but Fantasy Factory’s story is more prosaic. A compact unit owned and run since 1974 by John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins and Sue Hall, Fantasy Factory was still providing video editing and training in late 1993 despite being defunded in 1991.93 At that point they approached the ACGB for £1700 in one-off incentive-type funding to assist in the relocation to and relaunch in new premises. Their mix of commercial and cultural work, continuing commitment to training, and sheer entrepreneurial ability to survive off this might in theory have recommended them in the New Reality, even before their coup of purchasing an inner city building was taken into account. This had reduced their premises costs from £12,000 to £1500 a year, and the one-off grant sought was on the basis of being 25 per cent of removal and relaunch costs, which would then be used to raise further funds elsewhere.94 This and other details of the application seem textbook cases of ‘incentive’ and ‘enterprise’ thinking, yet they were turned down in short order. When the funding largess lavished on the relocation of the famously shambolic LFMC and more focused but stolidly grant-dependent LVA/LEA is taken into account, it seems that in some ways Fantasy Factory was running in the wrong direction. When Fantasy Factory’s plan to reopen in Theobald’s Road is compared to the high profile, prestige-project media centre template, the problems become obvious. Neither the building’s location nor appearance were suitable, and there was no public-facing exhibition element leading the development. The substantial self-sufficiency of the development may well have counted against it, as this made it a poor target for performance-indicating match funding and sponsorship. While in 1988 and 1989 BFI Funding and Development had played a supporting rather than leading role in the ‘Diorama project’ to relocate a number of groups, including the LFMC, LVA and the IFVPA to the prospective new Diorama building, by 1993 roles and expectations had changed. Indeed, when Fantasy Factory applied to the 229

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ACGB in November 1993, it was clear that the prestige project to rehouse the LFMC, LVA and the LFVDA in a new media centre belonged to none of the prospective tenants, but to the lead institution and eventual Head Leaseholder, the BFI. The strategy for what became the Lux Centre is clearly traceable from May 1991, and it centres on an expensive, highprofile building with high conversion costs – providing plenty of budgetary space to be filled by a series of match partnerships leveraged by the BFI’s own contribution. This kind of activity was, after all, what had emerged as the proper role for a national agency, strategic interventions that raised the profile of the work and groups and showed ‘value for money’ in the classic enterprise way, by bringing in private capital, local authority grants and other non-arts funding moneys. It was in this sense of ‘value for money’ that the Lux Centre could trounce Fantasy Factory. The Boyden Southwood Report claimed that ‘Many groups lack clarity in their objectives and tend to be funding-led’,95 yet the structural imperatives of the New Reality made this a fairly apt description of the funders themselves. In one of the several insightful rejoinders to the Report sent by the independent organisations, Fantasy Factory predicted that: If the funders wish to create an infrastructure which gives access to the means of production, the draining effect of ever increasing central London rents should be taken into account and freehold or long leasehold premises should be bought.96 That this could be both clearly correct and entirely beside the point is a fitting comment on the outcomes of this efficiency drive and its longer-term effects on the LFMC and LVA/LEA in their National Centre for Film, Video and Digital Art, the Lux Centre. Arm’s Length Regional Arts Associations (RAAs) were set up in England after the ACGB closed its regional offices in the 1950s. Twelve were established between 1956 and 1974, and, like many of their clients, they were independently formed autonomous bodies. Generally local arts interests and Local Authorities created the Associations and launched them off local funding, with the Local Authority’s contribution entitling it to representation in the RAA. Thus local government investment and decision-making were a substantial force in arts funding in 1989, with the RAAs as the conduits, and this allowed the RAAs substantial autonomy from central agencies like the ACGB and BFI in policy formation. But, as discussed above, local government spending as a whole had been a long-term target for the national government, so it is hardly surprising that the Regional Arts Boards (RABs) that, on the Wilding Review’s recommendation, replaced the RAAs, pointedly denied Local Authority officers a majority within them.97 As Arts Minister Luce had suggested, increasing ‘efficiency’ meant making ‘decisions easier to reach’.98 The legacy of the 1990s is one of decisions easily reached.

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While film and video funding officers like Irene Whitehead at the BFI and Felicity Sparrow at GLA busily steered their clients through restructure and re-orientation exercises during 1989–91, the OAL did the same to the regional funding bodies, leaving as noted above 10 RABs to replace 12 RAAs.99 In the midst of this energised administrative atmosphere GLA restructured disastrously, and the ACGB found it necessary to take over and directly administer it,100 in turn giving the BFI an excellent reason to withdraw film and video funding from the capital’s arts association.101 What each of the actors had in common was increased pressure to form forward plans that harmonised with government priorities and, as much as possible, show performance and value for money by successfully carrying them out. Conflict between autonomous bodies clearly had no positive role to play in making these strategic decisions easier to reach, and during the Wilding Review both the BFI and ACGB helpfully suggested that film and video provision could be improved by allowing each to take over the others’ funding.102 The rejection of these options nonetheless left the ACGB and BFI with, in the context, a serious problem: policy conflict with each other. The London-centricness of British arts funding is so pronounced and longstanding that efforts to remedy it have nearly as long a history, but one upshot is that London is the single most important region for funded film and video. The GLA crisis allowed the BFI to end its conflict with the ACGB for this key region by founding its own independent (of the ACGB) funding provider in the capital, the London Film and Video Development Agency (LFVDA).103 In early 1993 the new LFVDA’s Acting Executive David Powell inherited two problems that would last as long as the LFVDA: alienation from the ACGB, traditionally a co-funder of film and video in London,104 and a BFI project which assumed the LFVDA would take a long lease on a large inner-London building to house itself and two clients, the LFMC and LVA. Neither Powell nor the LFVDA’s Board could accept what seemed a boundlessly risky proposition, and in a short but dramatic exchange in February and March, the LFVDA managed to thoroughly jeopardise the BFI’s strategy for rehousing the groups in a prestigious facility in Camden. The LFVDA’s problems with taking the Head Lease on Sainsbury plc’s Grand Union House focused on the building conversion costs and long-term expense of the lease. In place of a full costing for the development, projections for the future, and legally enforceable guarantees to cover these costs, the BFI offered generous terms and its word.105 Refusal by any of the participants jeopardised the development because of the difficulties the BFI were facing securing a building at all. In February and March 1993, the BFI was waiting confidently but anxiously to hear if its tender to Sainsbury’s had been accepted, and signatures would be required very soon after acceptance. After a two-year hunt and some disappointments, it was more important to the BFI to close the deal with Sainsbury’s, lest this building fall through as well, than it was to fully cost the development and explain the ins and outs of its complex relationship with the LFMC and LVA. The deal was generous to the LFVDA, LFMC, LVA and the BFI. The LFVDA would live rent-free and inherit an enviable project in development, while the LFMC and LVA would have a new, unprecedentedly well-appointed and located building and guarantees that their 231

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rent would never be more than they could pay, even though the starting sum was £80,000 a year.106 In the first three years, the groups would pay only their current rent plus 5 per cent, with the rest to be covered with a special grant from the BFI.107 For the BFI and LFVDA, the project would be an excellent indicator of performance by drawing co-funding and sponsorship, like the £350,000 being offered by Sainsbury’s for the building refit, and the LFMC and LVA’s recent £200,000 Foundation for Sport and the Arts grant, both additional to the BFI’s promised £100,000 contribution to the development.108 The LFVDA was worried both by the suggestion they become liable for £80,000 or more rent a year for 20 years, and that the building development had not been fully planned, let alone costed. The LFVDA, LFMC and LVA would commonly depend on the BFI to maintain support in the short and long term, as none were financially robust enough to meet such an expense. In March the LFVDA took legal counsel on the terms of the guarantee that should be sought from the BFI, and on how to found a subsidiary to take on the lease and its risks. This thinking was aptly summed up by the legal adviser thus: one of the reasons why LFVDA want to set up a separate company to take on the Head Lease is exactly the same as the reason why BFI do not wish to take on the Head Lease themselves, i.e. the potential financial liabilities.109 In the event Sainsbury’s passed on the BFI’s offer, and the search for another building went on until a suitable developer and their site in Hoxton Square were located.110 But in the midst of these difficulties, Powell heard that he would be replaced by Steve McIntyre in three months.111 Throughout this period, in accordance with the government policies, reviews and restructures mentioned above, the BFI was devolving clients like Cinenova to the LFVDA. Yet, given that this was what occurred when professional arts administrators raised issues with instructions from above, the Association of District Councils’ concern that the Wilding-era reforms contained a clear ‘tension between the conflicting claims of regional devolution and central accountability’112seems predictive of the LFVDA’s 1993 plight, where responsibility and liability were devolved sans decision-making power. The LFVDA Board had rejected the BFI’s request that they sign the lease on Grand Union House and Powell had supported his Board’s rather than the BFI’s position. After Powell’s replacement, the LFVDA threw itself energetically into facilitating the establishment of what would become the Lux Centre and did not question the BFI’s word. This lesson had already been learned in 1991 by the building’s other proposed occupants, LFMC and LVA, and together their examples of resistance to the BFI show the practical structure underlying the decisions easily made. 1991 was the LFMC’s 25th anniversary, and many aspects of LFMC life were longstanding. It had been able to shrug off suggestions that it merge with LVA, its desperate need to relocate was continuing to receive strong funder support, a deficit was produced when earned income rose less quickly than costs, and there was a catalogue ready to print but no money to print it,113 together with a crisis in voluntary labour supply. But there were two recent major changes. An assertive new distribution team had wrested the right to promote 232

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selected programmes through the ACGB’s funded film tours,114 and the AGM of January 1991 reversed the entire relationship of membership to staff and executive. Traditionally the cooperative membership, open to all filmmakers who deposited a film with LFMC Distribution or paid LFMC Workshop subscription, had been the LFMC’s sovereign body, electing staff and executive for fixed terms and delegating certain powers to them. From January 1991 new membership was split into ‘core’ and ‘access’, with voting rights restricted to the former. Staff now had to approve new ‘core members’, only ‘core members’ would elect the executive, and the executive would select staff.115 Staff and executive had traditionally been fairly powerless next to the membership, and staff fairly powerless next to the executive. A situation where members had to be approved by staff reversed that, and these reforms further saw the executive delegating many of its powers to the staff. The reforms were designed at the LFMC Retreat of November 1990, where staff and executive bunkered down at the Museum of the Moving Image (MOMI).116 They were designed to remedy the traditional Thatcher-era ills of inefficient decision-making and administration, and were the most substantial since the rent-deficit crisis of 1981 allowed the BFI and ACGB to impose an Administrator to increase budgetary discipline (see Chapter 1). But other things continued as before, like factioneering, under-resourcing, building decay, the production of most artists’ film in the UK, and the Cinema Organiser post being a conduit to programming at the Film and Video Umbrella (FVU).117 In late 1990 Cinema Organiser Kathleen Maitland-Carter fell ill while overseas and was unable to return to her position. She was fresh from raising a large ACGB grant to support a series of highly successful screenings and an installation at the London Film Festival. Signaling LFMC Distribution’s new assertiveness, it would be they and not the FVU who would tour a shortened version of these in 1991 (see Chapter 4 for LFMC/FVU relations in 1990).118 In December 1990 the executive committee passed a no-confidence vote in her, and at the January 1991 AGM a Cinema Committee formed to keep the cinema going. The Cinema Committee was an enthusiastic grouping of newer and older filmmakers, such as long-time members Annabel Nicholson and Anna Thew, and emerging filmmaker Duncan Reekie. They were quickly alienated to find that Maitland-Carter seemed to have been pressured to resign, and that the Committee would inherit little associated with the position: neither the money budgeted to go towards programming nor any insight into how the cinema was running financially. Despite taking over a core Co-op function, they were denied its traditional competences in favour of Distribution Organisers Tom Heslop and Tony Warcus, who would get the programmer’s money in return for handling film bookings and clearing the administrative backlog. Asserting these barriers between members and staff, bluntly refusing control of, or even access to, the Cinema’s accounts, and allowing Distribution’s staff to control the Cinema budget all flew in the face of the traditional Co-op ethic, lately deployed by the staff and executive themselves to end the LFMC’s foundational open membership policy. The matter did not rest there, and only months later Thew was leading a new executive, elected in the EGM of 9 March, in an open faction battle against staff like Heslop, Warcus and Administrator Sandy Weiland. It was into this power struggle 233

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that Irene Whitehead (now Head of Planning, BFI) and Ian Christie (Head of Distribution, BFI), who had just finished liquidating COW and re-launching Circles as Cinenova, walked with a take-it-or-leave-it deal involving a long lease, large rent, uncosted refurbishment, cohabitation with a new regional funder and a short deadline for signing. The 9 March EGM that brought in the new executive restored much of the LFMC’s traditional structure, but slyly let the selection of staff by the executive stand in order to prevent staff voting in the executive. Staff quickly struck back, anonymously calling another EGM for 2 June, which restored their voting rights on the executive but refused to transfer much of the executive’s power to them. In May the BFI had announced its intention (after suitable consultation) to create its own regional funder for London and had shown LFMC staff the old Dunn and Co. building in Camden, selected by the BFI’s consultants for the LFMC-LVALFVDA relocation project. Staff kept the latter development to themselves until after the EGM of 2 June, perhaps hoping not to have to negotiate with a hostile executive, but by that point the BFI were anxious for the LFMC’s signature. After a viewing in early July, the executive expressed a number of key reservations, including the space intended for the Cinema, the extent of re-development required and the BFI’s financial commitment to this and the tenfold rise in the LFMC’s rent for a minimum 25-year period. This brought a phalanx of funders to the next LFMC executive meeting – Irene Whitehead, Ian Christie and Jim Pines from the BFI and David Curtis from the ACGB. When good news such as ‘the new building should not stretch the financial state of the Co-op nor change the Co-op itself ’,119 the ‘BFI provides rent for LFMC and LVA’ in return for housing the media development agency, and that the landlord would provide £375,000 for refurbishment120 did not alter the executive’s concerns about the non-existent costing and unsuitability of the converted light-well cinema space, this provoked the bad news that BFI funding and support for LFMC would diminish in the face of refusal. Complaining of ‘great pressure’ from the BFI, the executive voted on the night both to proceed to ‘stage 2’ with the building and that the proposed cinema space was unsuitable for the LFMC.121 Seemingly, a decision easily reached. If the staff faction were trying to preempt executive interference by springing the Dunn and Co. building on them, this was a partial success, but it energised the executive, particularly its Building Committee. In less than a month from voting on the building, the committee had located and raised support for alternative premises at Saffron Hill in Clerkenwell, while the executive put Weiland under review. BFI staff responded to this by insisting that the development would proceed regardless, as its point was to house the LFVDA. This echoes the confident tone of the Joint Funders Strategy Group in 1989: [T]here needed to be a more radical approach rather than being tied to funding decisions around present groups – ie funders should develop their own timetable around areas of support rather than being client led.122 But it also serves to embarrass this top-down approach and much of the rhetoric of professionalism, economy, accountability and ‘consultation’ that underlay the associated 234

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culling and transformation of the independent sector. Two funder-mandated consultations, the Boyden Southwood Report in 1989 and the ‘Funding for Film and Video in London’ discussion document in 1991,123 show the significance of this kind of thinking. When the BFI floated the idea of founding its own funder for London, it launched a consultation exercise on the matter with London-region clients. This was in May 1991, and the results, along with the Planning Unit’s recommendation, were not ready until September. However, that the BFI wanted to secure a building for the new agency by the end of July – and were firmly instructing the LFMC Executive on this – suggests that the BFI did not seriously consider any other option than the founding of a separate regional funder. This resonates with the 1989 consultation meeting with London’s independent groups on the draft Boyden Southwood Report, where the groups were bemused to hear that the ‘draft’ report presented ‘for comment’ was already being put into action.124 These events sent a clear message to the groups about their insignificance, which documents like the Boyden Southwood Report and the LVA Management consultancy legitimated by portraying the groups as basically hapless. This vacuum of worthy ideas, skills, vision and purpose was then filled by the funding agencies themselves. That a volunteer collective of filmmakers foresaw every major problem that the troubled Lux Centre development was to encounter, and found a robust alternative that avoided the single most important pitfall – unregulated rent increases125 – in only two months of frenetic activity, while also conducting internal and external feuds, challenges the entire utility of imposing ‘coherence’ by destroying resistance. It likewise puts paid to the idea that decisions easily made improve either economy or accountability. While the concerns of the LFMC executive and its Building Committee prefigured the meat of the LFVDA’s later objections, the former were in a much better position to resist BFI pressure, as the BFI could not dismiss them from their positions, which in any case were not jobs. In terms of economy and thus accountability for the use of public funds, the Building Committee used the standing Dunn and Co. offer to negotiate a superior rent deal on a building that required only minimal conversion and no new planning permissions. Further, Thew’s criticism of the plan to place Europe’s largest collection of experimental film above restaurants and caterers in a wooden floored building, as at Dunn and Co., must be considered one of the most lucid contributions to the eleven-year Lux Centre saga. The BFI’s response was to reject the alternative building, question whether the Building Committee represented LFMC’s interests and reiterate the threat to proceed with the deal without the LFMC. When the LFMC executive still refused to sign and referred the decision to the membership, the BFI immediately withdrew the threat to go ahead without the LFMC, abused the LFMC for its ‘instability’ and threatened unspecified damage to their funding unless fewer executive meetings were held. Pushing the BFI to openly threaten disinvestment so soon after a veritable frenzy of client abandonment might not seem wise, and this is certainly the view that many LFMC members took when they assembled to consider the situation at the third EGM of 1991. But the LFMC executive had several good reasons for believing that the BFI would not use such a blunt weapon against them. The LFMC had long been a privileged group with a firm position in the funded provision of service. They 235

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had been using threats to their existence to galvanise reluctant funders into more generous grants and support since at least 1975 and, despite showing scant interest in significantly improving their earned income, they were by 1991 BFI Distribution’s third largest client. Further, whether BFI representatives chose to say so or not, LFMC were at the very centre of London regional policy. Their workshop, cinema and distribution collection were a low cost solution to various funder needs, including production, warehousing of funded films, developing of curatorial talent and sourcing new developments (see Chapter 1). In the centre of this was the LFMC’s distribution collection, which was not a transferable possession but one contingent upon the survival of the LFMC itself. Built up since 1966 on the principle that all prints remained the property of their makers, a long and difficult job securing rights would lie ahead of anybody seeking to inherit these films should the LFMC fold. Having themselves aggressively defunded the LFMC would not make the BFI or the ACGB’s job in this, should they undertake it, any easier. The Film and Video Umbrella might have been the funders’ preferred model, but that model still had to get films from somewhere. When the Lux Centre collapsed in October 2001, the ACE’s very swift assurances to filmmakers that the distribution collection was secure (and so not to reclaim their prints) bears this out, as does the launch of Lux (II) as a capsule for the historic collection. From 1975 until the collapse of the Lux Centre, the LFMC and Lux (I) showed clearly that jeopardy provoked largess more reliably than stability. If this bred some unhealthy impulses, it also explains the brinkmanship engaged in by the LFMC executive, as well as the somewhat blasé attitude of LFMC, LEA and LFVDA throughout the rest of the Lux development. The LFMC EGM to decide the building issue was called for 12 October 1991. This was announced in August, and the BFI’s patience with this seems deeply at odds with their demands for immediate compliance in July. Though further threats were leveled, the LFMC also received an improved offer from the BFI on the Dunn and Co. building, consisting of the first quantification of rent protection offered: The rental for the first three years for both the Co-op and LVA will be current rent + 5%. Subsequent years rental increases will take account of each organisation’s revenue generation. It does not make sense for the BFI to price either organisation out of existence.126 plus the offer of rolling five-year leases.127 In the meantime the executive unsuccessfully attempted to process the dismissal of Weiland, and a small phalanx of pioneer Co-op members, including Peter Gidal, Malcolm Le Grice and Mary Pat Leece, joined the fray on the staff faction’s side. Consequently LFMC members received two furious, contradictory agendas for the EGM, with the staff faction’s containing a letter from Whitehead which threatened to go ahead without the LFMC but not to defund the LFMC (in contradiction to the BFI’s earlier threat to terminate the Dunn and Co. project and defund the LFMC),128 and the signatories’ estimation that LFMC’s future funding was on the line.129 The staff faction’s agenda prioritised a vote on the dissolution of the executive and on the day a classically 236

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raucous debate saw the motion for dissolution brought first and carried. The case for Dunn and Co. was then presented by the staff, and that for the alternative by the former Building Committee. A motion for unconditional agreement to move to Dunn and Co. received no support, but one to do so ‘subject to satisfactory negotiations’ was carried. Six years later the LFMC opened at the Lux Centre at Hoxton Square chained to a long lease with no rent-capping, no break clauses, no longer a co-op, and a little more than a year away from a crisis-inspired voluntary merger with LEA. Between Dunn and Co, Grand Union House and 2–4 Hoxton Square, the classic media centre pattern begins to emerge. As explained above, the priorities of this model automatically excluded Saffron Hill for many of the reasons that the dissenting LFMC executive had preferred it. Like Fantasy Factory’s low-subsidy offer to the ACGB in 1993, Saffron Hill lacked both the location and the potential for spectacle required of a prestige media centre project, and it also lacked expensive, uncosted refits. The LFMC executive, like the LFVDA board, saw the need to extensively refurbish Dunn and Co. as a distinct financial hazard, but demanding full costings and assurance from the BFI was beside the point when a key goal was to create a series of lucrative match funding deals based on the expense. The Institute’s enthusiasm for media centres in the 1980s is echoed by the Boyden Southwood Report and in Irene Whitehead’s report to the Wilding Review, where it directly meets with the BFI’s vision of itself as a strategic organisation. At a time when the government and OAL rhetoric seemed to be reducing the competencies of the national funders in favour of devolution to the regions,130 the BFI openly argued that it had to be able to directly fund clients in order to use such grants for forming partnerships, thus acquitting itself of a strategic national role.131 In this fashion, the BFI staked £305,000 in six years on the Lux Centre at 2–4 Hoxton Square, but attracted more than £3 million from other sources. Though some important opponents of the Saffron Hill building have since decided it was by far the preferable option,132 and it drew support from LVA and ACGB at the time, a building so close to the LFMC’s scale of operation, fit for purpose and nestled in fashionable but unspectacular Clerkenwell was no competition for the difficult and expensive Camden and Hoxton options for exactly those reasons. While contemporaneous BFI pronouncements asserted that ‘the new building should not stretch the financial state of the Co-op nor change the Co-op itself ’133 and ‘the Co-op needs to make a clear decision on its own’,134 the LFMC’s role in the funded provision of service, as foreshadowed in the Boyden Southwood Report, was certainly going to change it beyond recognition, radically circumscribe what autonomy it had, and inflate its grant dependence beyond all precedent. Surety 2–4 Hoxton Square was under consideration within a few months of the Grand Union House debacle, and by September 1993 Hackney City Challenge had given the owners, Glasshouse Investments, £5000 for a feasibility study.135 By April 1994, Glasshouse was ready 237

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to commission plans for the development and negotiate the terms of the lease. Although it would be the LFVDA’s signature on the Head Lease, Glasshouse negotiated directly with the BFI. The inability of the LFVDA to actually afford such a building as this obliged the BFI to offer various forms of comfort and guarantees to both sides. In April 1994 Glasshouse received a Letter of Indemnity from the BFI promising £30,000 if, after Glasshouse had paid for plans, the LFVDA unreasonably refused to take on the Head Lease.136 The same month, LFVDA received a letter from the BFI ‘which, while not legally binding, would give your Board members the maximum degree of reassurance about the Institute’s intentions for the future funding of the LFVDA’.137 In May, the BFI’s lawyers further assured the LFVDA Directors that they were incurring no personal liability by taking on the Head Lease, and in June a draft lease was available to the parties.138 While LEA’s lawyers queried the provision of upwards only rent reviews at market rates, this was only to assert that LEA should benefit from any decrease in property values that might occur.139 More presciently, LFVDA Board member Tony Kirkhope (Tartan Metro, The Other Cinema) wrote that the overall scheme should also be examined to assess the relative value of the deal from our perspective. It could appear that the developer may be in receipt of windfall profits at the expense of state expenditure.140 While the BFI negotiated hard with Glasshouse, the potentially disastrous rent reviews and the possibility of state-subsidised development work being inherited by the developer – no strings attached – was not the subject of these negotiations. Instead, from June until November 1994 the BFI contested Glasshouse’s insistence on a ‘Privity of Contract’ clause, which denied the ability to reassign the lease.141 Glasshouse argued that they required this to raise the investment needed for their contribution to the development. On this basis they furiously rejected the BFI’s demand for both the right to re-assign and ‘an option to purchase the property as a whole subsequent to completion, with the sale price subject to a formula to be agreed’ to last as long as the BFI’s liability under the Terms of Guarantee.142 By this time the project had attracted the enthusiastic support of stakeholders in the area’s redevelopment, particularly the Dalston City Partnership and Hackney Borough Council. Consequently, under the pressure brought to bear from Glasshouse and the local bodies, LFVDA signed this Head Lease, as did BFI as Guarantor, without these protections.143 The LFVDA interfered very little in the process, even foregoing its long-held determination to found a subsidiary to hold the lease.144 Instead, like the other direct parties to the lease, it focused on the nature of the BFI’s Guarantee. At one time or another, the BFI was asked by all parties to explain the nature of its Guarantee, or to put that in writing. While all the tenant parties had previously received correspondence about the BFI’s commitment to resource the organisations in the building, as mentioned above, they continued to ask after this in 1994 and 1995. In August 1994 LFVDA Board Chair Larry Chrisfield was still seeking a Letter of Indemnity to protect them from future crises with the building,145 and in February 1995 the LEA Board ‘requested that 238

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the BFI formalizes its offer of £15,000 rent subsidy’146 in a letter. At the beginning of March Irene Whitehead (now Head of Cinema Services and Development, BFI) wrote to LEA and the LFMC, reassuring them that they ‘should not have to pay more than 10% on top’147 of their current rent so long as the level of the BFI’s own funding from the Department of National Heritage remained ‘in line with those currently foreseen.’148 In May 1995 the LFVDA applied to the European Regional Development Fund (ERDF),149 and the nature of this guarantee had to explained all over again, but this time to a body that was not subsidised by the BFI. In June 1995 Steve McIntyre (Chief Executive, LFVDA) wrote that: The LFVDA has entered a 25 year lease with the developers Glasshouse. There is no assignment clause therefore it will not be possible for the LFVDA to dispose of this asset within the life of the lease. In other words, the LFVDA must maintain the operation during this period. The Agreement for Lease obliges the British Film Institute to guarantee the LFVDA’s performance under the Agreement to Lease and the Head Lease itself. This lays two fundamental obligations on the surety. The first of these will, of course, be payment of rent to the landlord in the event of any default. […] Secondly, the BFI guarantees the LFVDA’s delivery on its obligation in the Agreement for Lease to complete the fit out of the building within the time period laid down.150 But in March 1996 he was still trying to explain that: The issue of the BFI’s role as ‘surety’ to the Hoxton Square is really quite straightforward. … In order to give maximum comfort to the developers and other parties to the project, the BFI has ‘stood behind’ the LFVDA in order to generate the maximum confidence.   In all of the discussion, it has always been absolutely accepted that the BFI is only funded on an annual basis from the Department of National Heritage which formally limits the ways in which it can play this role.151 The intrinsic contradiction in this had not been lost on the Government Office of London (GOL), who administered ERDF funds in the London region, and they asked bluntly for the BFI to take a stronger supporting role. This was a serious problem, as the LFVDA’s application to the ERDF for £433,000 was an important part of the match funding deal supporting the Hoxton Square development, and the scale of the funds sought from the National Lottery – £3 million – was dependent on the ERDF money.152 In September 1996 the GOL was still calling on the BFI to ‘confirm or reinforce the validity of our [the BFI’s] guarantee to the lease. This reflects a concern within GOL that without our support the project may not be sufficiently robust in the medium to long term’.153 But if the GOL wanted a firmer commitment into the future, the Department of National Heritage (DNH) was just as determined that the BFI keep within the formal limits of its powers. Being only funded annually by the DNH, the BFI was not really in a position to make binding promises. The GOL gave the parties until October 1996 to sort 239

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this out, or they would reassign the ERDF moneys to ensure they were committed within the financial year.154 Instead, by December the DNH and GOL had accepted the situation so long as the BFI would itself sign the lease and sublet to the LFVDA by 31 December 1996.155 Within three days of the signing, award letters for £433,586 (ERDF, 17 December) and £2.8 million156 (National Lottery, 19 December) arrived,157 somewhat dwarfing the grant moneys previously spent on the groups. The BFI had itself committed £166,000 to the development of the Hoxton Square site (on top of its usual funding of the LFMC and LEA),158 but more to the point it had done so skilfully enough to turn that into leverage for a roughly 20:1 match funding deal.159 But the difficulty of this and the brinkmanship required to bring this prestige project to fruition should not be underestimated, given that building on the site had already started months before the GOL-BFI-DNH wrangle was settled.160 Contingency The question of the BFI’s ability to be surety for or guarantee the performance of the Lux Centre, now the National Centre for Film, Video and Digital Art, was almost immediately tested. Having opened with a splash on 19 September 1997, the LFMC and LEA were immediately left on standstill funding in their new, expensive building with their new, expensive staff,161 when the BFI itself received a funding cut of £900,000 from the new Department of Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS) for 1998–99.162 In March 1998 the LFMC found it was running up an alarming deficit in the new building, and calculated that it would probably be unable to pay staff or creditors by June.163 When the Boards of LFMC and LEA met in April to discuss the possibility of a merger, LEA and LFMC had accumulated deficits of £31,000 and £114,000 respectively.164 Thus, though there seems no direct causal link, the classic reluctance of funders to increase grants met with the classic grant-raising method – threatened collapse – within eight months of the Lux Centre opening. But this apparent fecklessness of the Lux Centre groups should not be seen outside of the context where much of their operation – staff structures and numbers, operational strategies – had been developed by or with external consultants and passed by multiple funders. The role of consultancy reports as non-referential enabling documents has been covered above, as have the pressures on all parties to the Lux development to stay the course, despite the obvious risks. Further, that up scaling activity in the subsidised economy predictably leads to deficit production rather than increased economic independence was experienced by all the groups in the 1990s. Although a myriad of internal and external factors collided to keep the Lux Centre off balance throughout its short existence, one thing that unifies all this is as a test case for the collapse-plus-concession-plus-consultation method of increasing received funding. The first concession the LFMC and LEA made to their funders was to assent to the long-suggested merger. News of this was sent to the LFVDA, BFI and ACE on 16 April 1998, along with the accusation that ‘our two organisations are currently structurally 240

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underfunded’.165 Much of this was repeated in the public announcement of merger in June, along with the qualification that the merged organisation could survive ‘as long as historical deficits can be eliminated or reduced with a one-off or a phased financial stabilisation programme’.166 The first study into the Lux Centre’s operating problems began soon after, with an internal analysis in July, and financial modelling by the group’s accountants in August and September. This produced a report for funders in September, which noted that ‘Development/expansion of arts activities cannot usually be sustained without grant support’, before suggesting both debt mitigation (LEA: £70,000, LFMC: £120,000) and increased annual funding. But interestingly the report also holds the most precious aspect of the media centre model – exhibition – hostage, suggesting that shutting the Lux Gallery and Cinema would save £50,000 and £35,000 respectively a year, and that the only way to maintain the current range of activities was higher subsidy.167 By this point the LFMC could only continue to operate by not paying the rent to its funders.168 But by 10 December the key funders had determined a one-off contingency package of £180,000 – £50,000 from the BFI, £10,000 from the LFVDA, and payments of £40,000 and £80,000 from the ACE, the latter to be released only to the merged company.169 These figures are surprisingly close to the annual grant increase suggested by the LFMC and LEA in September – that their existing £200,000 a year be increased to £360,000.170 Naturally, the one-off contingency funding package was conditional on a new business plan and management structure developed with a consultant.171 Veteran consultant Peter Boyden produced just such a document between late January and early February 1999, by which time the already merged company owed more than £85,000 in back rent to its funders.172 Despite the sheer unlikelihood of finessing ‘a financially sustainable future for the Lux Centre which is both culturally driven and managerially coherent’,173 and the consultancy’s inability to solve key problems such as waning BFI interest and the vexed question of who would inherit core funding responsibility,174 the consultancy was accepted and the money released.175 A key basis of the contingency funding agreement between the funders was that the Lux Centre would require £90,000 in rent subsidy with its core funding.176 However, Boyden had found that the BFI’s guarantee of rent subsidy only extended to 31 March 1999, and that in general the Institute would prefer its contribution to the contingency package to draw ‘a line under the anomalous relationship’ with the Lux Centre.177 Indeed, in October 1998 the BFI had already accepted and encouraged the ACE’s suggestion ‘that the BFI cede the main responsibility for funding the Lux Centre to the ACE’.178 This had been in the context of the Comprehensive Spending Review of arts funding instituted by the incoming Labour government. 1998 had also seen the publication of A Bigger Picture: the Report of the Film Policy Review Group,179 which set in motion the formation of the UK Film Council. Consequently, this period also saw the largest reattribution exercise since the Abolition, and so re-emphasised the formal limits on funding agencies, such as the BFI, when guaranteeing or acting as surety for projects of any significant duration. The contingency package had temporarily supplied the Lux Centre with the subsidy to afford its level of activity. 1999–2000 saw a highly prized new £120,000 annual revenue 241

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support from the ACE that essentially doubled revenue funding,180 but all this had not solved the longer-term problem of annual funding level, nor the insoluable one of the instability of its funders. While the BFI did provide the Lux Centre with £90,000 in rent subsidy in 1999–2000,181 it also gave the LFVDA a £25,000 cut in its grant, resulting in a 1.6 per cent cut to the Lux Centre’s LFVDA grant.182 The Boyden consultancy had worked in the short term, in the sense of enabling multiple funders to agree on combined support for the troubled organisation, and this again showed the power of the jeopardy method of grant raising for finding out just how much money is really available. The funders’ agreement to support the Lux Centre with a contingency package also created a situation not unlike that of the London-region Joint Funders Strategy Group at the end of the 1980s. As per the postAbolition deal, the agencies were linked together by the extent of their common investment. But at the same time it was clear that these funders were about to be restructured – the ACE would devolve many remaining competencies to the LAB, including much of the support for the Lux Centre, and the BFI would transfer its regional and development functions, budgets and staff to the new Film Council. This was well understood in 1999–2000, and the Lux Centre three-year business plan developed that year was obliged simply to restate the grave uncertainty surrounding BFI rent support, shifting the possible cut off date from March 1999 to March 2000.183 However, the Boyden consultancy also assumed that whoever inherited responsibility for the Lux Centre’s core funding would also take over responsibility for the rent subsidy,184 showing that even at this point reattribution exercises were still thought to be the shifting of budgets as items attached to particular groups. In the meantime the new Lux Centre dealt with the consequences of actually merging structures, rather than just companies, and another round of forensic accounting discovered a further £69,000 of accumulated debt up to March 1999.185 Joint Faith and Investment Although the Film Council was in operation in 2000–01, this was a transitional year in which the BFI continued to partly fulfil its previous functions. The LFVDA reported to both the Film Council and BFI, who jointly set the agency’s funding. While this served to protect both the LFVDA and the Lux Centre from the cuts of previous years, all LFVDA revenue clients were offered only six months’ standstill funding while the Agency ‘re-formulated policy’.186 Likewise, the BFI withdrew from Lux Centre rent support in stages, offering £40,000 rather than £85,000 in early April 2000.187 While it is easy to sympathise with Lux Centre Director Michael Maziere’s spirited attempts from April to September 2000 to convince the BFI to restore the funding,188 particularly in view of the guarantees offered by past BFI staff and the manner in which doubters were treated, those promises were predicated on the BFI remaining the organisation it had been. Further, although the government’s creation of the Film Council fundamentally changed and reduced the BFI, statements such as ‘neither [the Head of Cinema Services] nor I have any record of a continued budget line beyond our 242

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three-year agreement’ from the new BFI Director, and ‘the bfi’s three year funding of The Lux has now finished’ from the Head of Cinema Services,189 must have seemed a galling translation of: The rental for the first three years for both the Co-op and LVA will be current rent + 5%. Subsequent years rental increases will take account of each organisations’ revenue generation. It does not make sense for the BFI to price either organisation out of existence.190 Despite its structural importance to the Lux Centre development, this notion of a BFI ‘guarantee’ for the organisation was quickly dropped, and proponents of the reinstatement of the rent support, from Maziere to ACE Chief Executive Peter Hewitt, focused instead on the BFI’s agreement to the Boyden consultancy that underwrote the contingency package.191 This is another point of resemblance to the post-Abolition settlement of the late 1980s, and just as Irene Whitehead (then BFI Planning) had called on boroughs and the London Boroughs Grant Scheme to honour Abolition-era co-funding agreements, so the other parties to the Lux contingency bail out called on the BFI or its former staff at the new Film Council to honour the BFI contingency commitment to the Lux Centre. But even here the underlying role of the seismic shift in arts funding structures is obvious. When Hewitt wrote to John Woodward (then Chief Executive Officer of the Film Council, previously Director of the BFI) in May 2000, he signalled the key problem: [Y]ou and I agreed that if the BFI wished to divest itself of its funding responsibility for the LUX, this might be accommodated within a broader exchange of regional funding responsibilities between the Arts Council and the Film Council. This exchange has not happened, and unless or until it does so, the present financial responsibilities must remain in place.192 The BFI funding withdrawal had pre-empted the reattribution exercise between funders new and old, leaving an apparent vacuum of responsibility. The reattribution meetings did not occur until November and December 2000, and even though the £85,000 was passed to the ACE, it was clear from the beginning that the ‘complication here is that the BFI money is rent support, and the ACE money wouldn’t be’.193 By this time though the Lux Centre’s financial situation was so perilous that it had determined to apply to the Arts Council Lottery Recovery Programme, set up to deal with threats of ‘immanent insolvency’. When it did in October, it cited £125,000 historical deficit and £100,000 current deficit, plus £130,000 needed for upgrades and restructuring.194 But by the time of the Recovery Programme stocktake in November, the figures had been reexamined and the loss for 1999–2000 (the year of the efficiency-producing merger and contingency package) was now estimated at £240,657, with an even larger one predicted for 2000–01.195 Among these various outstanding bills were two quarters of rent owed to 243

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the BFI and LFVDA. We have seen how unconvincing the Government Office of London found the BFI’s notion of a guarantee based on common sense interests and good will, but they were reassured by the insertion of the BFI into the catastrophic chain of leases on the building. Even this turned out to be insufficient incentive. Although the Lux Centre stopped paying rent when the BFI stopped paying them to, this did nothing to convince the BFI to ‘stand behind’ the project.196 Between the October internal analysis and the November Recovery stocktake, the issue of the premises and leases rose in prominence without coming to the fore. The October analysis simply mentioned that the separate Lux Gallery lease had come up for review in November 1999, when the owners sought to raise it from £19,000 to £51,359 a year. The Lux took this to third-party arbitration, where it remained for most of the rest of the Lux Centre’s existence, hoping to come to a settlement for £29,000. The Recovery stocktake team took this at face value, but also noted that the leases on the rest of the building would be up for review in 2001.197 But by February 2001 the London Arts Board (LAB) argued that ‘leasehold arrangements are the greatest concern and greatest threat to viability’, and in June the LFVDA berated the BFI that the Lux Centre was ‘saddled’ with rental levels ‘that were already very high and are about to skyrocket’, noting further that ‘there is no point developing a business plan for the organisation until the issue of the building is addressed’.198 The November 2000 stocktake document raised the question of whether the Lux Centre really needed so much space. In 2001–02, the Lux Centre received core revenue grants totalling some £252,000 from the LAB and LFVDA, plus substantial project funding, plus £270,000 from the Recovery Programme for use during the process.199 But it is unclear if anyone believed that that would be enough to hold the situation while the Recovery Process continued, and discussions about relocation and downsizing proceeded in parallel. By January 2001 the Lux Centre Board of Directors (BOD) were discussing the need to move, citing various inadequacies like basement flooding on top of the rent reviews, but the next month the problems of the funding invested in the building fittings, and the impact of the loss of a major asset on the assets/liabilities balance sheet, saw discussion back away from relocation.200 By July it was back on the agenda as the Lux BOD and their funders tried to find a plan for the future. While the BOD helpfully stated its ‘wish to reflect what the stakeholders [i.e. funders] want’, the assembled delegates from the ACE, LAB and LFVDA were unable to give clear-cut, actionable advice.201 What emerges instead is a view of the Lux Centre as a collision of funding streams resourcing different areas of subsidised provision: the cinema was important to the LFVDA, while the distribution collection was the core of the ACE’s interest. The gallery space was roundly criticised, the LAB thought that ‘production’ could be reconceptualised, but the BOD’s suggestion of dropping nearly everything and concentrating on distribution and agency work brought the worrying suggestion from the ACE that ‘Film and Video Umbrella do this already’.202 Despite all this, by August 2001 a plan had been developed to reduce rent liability by shutting down the Facilities workshop and so vacating the second floor of the building.203 It was thought that this would shave some £80,000 off the upcoming increased rent bill of at least £227,242.204It 244

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was nearly four years since the Lux Centre had opened, famously on the fundraising coup of £3 million in Lottery funding. That £3 million had been for the production equipment that was now mostly to be ‘put in store or disposed of ’.205 The rent review for the major leases was set for September 2001, and by the end of the month it became clear that full commercial rates would be charged. While the Lux BOD and its funders had discussed throughout the year a cost-saving contraction of operations ahead of eventual regrouping and relaunch, the news of the quadruple rent rise led the Recovery Panel to counsel the avoidance of all further expense by ceasing operations and laying off staff, while a new business plan was formulated.206 The Lux Centre shut down abruptly and without prior notice on 2 October 2001. Within a couple of weeks the business plan included the liquidation of the Lux Centre, and an ACE/LAB earmarking of £300,000 to relaunch the unique distribution collection and to continue the Pandemonium festival.207 Thus, to deal with the debts accrued by taking a prestige-project building and radically upscaling activity in the subsidised economy, anything saleable that had accumulated from the generations of artist-activists who had built and maintained the LFMC and LVA/LEA would be sold. Their long-time funder, the BFI, would be, as its Director wrote in Sight and Sound, ‘one of the main creditors’.208 At the same time, the £300,000 ACE/LAB money continued to show how effectively funds could be generated by jeopardy. In the event, Distribution was relaunched as Lux (II) (in the same year that the LFVDA was relauched as Film London and the LAB as Arts Council London), and a group of LFMC filmmakers were able to lay claim to some of the former LFMC’s workshop equipment on the basis that it was, like the distribution collection, collective property.209 Coda While much about the failed Lux Centre remains contentious, the top-down structure of its development and design cannot be disputed. While the client bodies and their direct regional funder worked very hard on the development, they were in no position to set its direction and goals. It is unclear if decision-making at client, regional agency and national funder levels was openly considered ‘duplication’ within the terms of the 1989 Wilding review, but the results speak for themselves. While funders always had policies, it should be noted that the 1984 Glory of the Garden was the Arts Council’s first ever overall policy – and the first time it had ever needed one. The waves of compulsory devolution from that time to the time of writing were always intended to change the nature and function of both national and regional agencies. As the national agencies were progressively shorn of their ordinary grant giving functions, they were obliged to take up a leadership role in strategic policy formation, while regional agencies progressively inherited grant giving and formed regional strategies in reaction to the national agencies. Leadership is defined against obedience and the Lux saga shows the authoritarian potential in the system which has emerged – a system created at governmental level which has not been universally appreciated, even by national 245

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funding agencies. While the national agencies have been obliged to take up a leadership role, the Lux saga also illustrates these agencies’ own vulnerability, and so the disruptive potential of the increasingly finely honed, basically prescriptive funding system. This is a very different system from the one that the independent groups initially approached for funding. The previous system was essentially reactive. It responded to applications and was free to do so on regional and national levels. The great funding coups of the 1970s were sewn together by the groups themselves, and even if they received funding from multiple agencies, it was the groups themselves who remained the lead stakeholder, whether this was Independent Cinema West’s ‘First Festival of British Independent Film’ (1975, see Chapter 1), The Other Cinema’s Charlotte Street cinema (1976–77, see Chapter 2) or Cinema of Women’s theatrical feature film releases (1981–86, see Chapter 2). In the lead up to the Lux collapse, ‘lead stakeholder’ could only refer to a national funding agency, as when the Recovery Programme noted that ‘the key issue for the Lux is that there is not a lead stakeholder to drive the process’.210 While the upshot of this is that both funded organisations and regional agencies could become embroiled in projects they could not hope to control – and could hardly avoid becoming involved in – the scale of investment that accepting this role in the funded provision of service brought cannot be ignored either. But the price is accepting decisions easily made, and the disconnection between decision-making and liability that this involves. While the Lux Centre’s demise has somewhat overshadowed its existence, the tremendous achievement of the LFMC, LEA and then their merged successor should not be overlooked. Despite appalling internal conflict and systemic breakdown, the Lux Cinema and Gallery offered throughout their existence an ambitious and highly varied programme that combined contemporary developments and the revival of work pioneered by the LFMC, LEA and other groups from the former independent sector. It may be a long time before the riches of the LFMC and LEA distribution collections are offered again so publically and so regularly. The FVU’s long labours to inject experimental film and video into the theatrical and gallery sections of the public sphere (see Chapter 4) show the sheer difficulty and expense of gaining the visibility necessary to build audiences. In the 1980s the ACGB explained its decision to found the FVU as the unpreparedness of the LFMC and LVA to take on the task of seriously promoting artists’ film and video. Throughout the late 1980s and 1990s each of the distributors rebutted this by practical means, and competed with the FVU for the funding to promote their work to the public. While this allowed the groups access to touring funds, the Lux Centre gave them further access to venue-based commissioning funds through their own venue. This gave the groups a centrality to the exposure of artists’ moving image they had not known in decades, and a public visibility they had probably never known. A perusal of the gallery and cinema programmes shows the breadth and depth of work being exposed in a venue in an increasingly prominent part of central London. Numerous artists’ film and video retrospectives, many based largely or entirely on the historic distribution collections, curated by artists such as David Hall, George Barber, and Andrew Kötting, rubbed shoulders with contemporary underground 246

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filmmakers like Dave Leister (Kino Club), programmes of European artists like Pipilotti Rist and Jeff Krulik, and classic independent sector programmes from John Akomfrah (Black Audio Film Collective), the Amber Film collective and Sankofa. Lux also hosted or screened films from festivals such as The First International Transgender Film and Video Festival, the MIX New York experimental lesbian and gay film festival, and the Beyond Technology new media arts festival.211 Apart from this, the performance of the public facing sections of the Lux Centre impressed and was precious to almost all of the Lux’s funders. Soon after hearing of the BFI’s stepped disavowal of responsibility for the Lux project, ACE Chief Executive Peter Hewitt wrote ‘We believe that LUX is doing great work, and has rewarded our joint faith and investment’212 (May 2000). In the throes of the Recovery process, Chief Executive of LFVDA Gill Henderson insisted that: what [the problems flagged up by the Recovery process] hasn’t done … is to diminish the importance of what, in film terms, is a genuinely unique organisation. … The Lux Cinema is vital to the future health of independent film in London, linking as it does worlds of fine art and film that often seem mutually exclusive. LFVDA believes that the cinema and distribution elements of the Lux are of prime importance to British film culture.213 As late as August 2001 ACE Film and Video Officer Gary Thomas bluntly stated that ‘The Lux Centre is of absolute real and symbolic importance’.214 The Lux Centre also gave prominence to the work of Distribution, to the many curated packages which they now had the funding to promote and now had the venue to premiere.215 It should finally be noted that, despite tremendous internal dysfunction, and the very large sums invested already, the LFVDA, LAB, ACE and Recovery Programme remained willing to find the finance to keep the Lux Centre operational – even though this was estimated at more than £1 million in November 2000 – until the enforcement of the market-rate rent rises was confirmed. Despite the tremendous bill that projecting this work into the public sphere so prominently in itself ran up, those agencies were prepared to support it. Whether they openly admitted it or not, they knew very well the level of subsidy that this required, and the Lux project as a hostage gave the LFMC and LEA a chance of finally seeing that money. Notes    1. Alan Fountain, in interview with Geoffrey Nowell-Smith and Peter Thomas, 11 November 2004. Fountain attended, for instance, Wholly Communion (1965, Albert Hall) and the underground film screenings at Better Books, the Electric Cinema, and the Institute for Research into Art and Technology (IRAT).    2. Stoneman co-edited the famous 1979–80 Production Board distribution catalogue: Stoneman and Hilary Thompson (eds.), The New Social Function of Cinema: BFI Productions ’79/80 (London: BFI, 1981). 247

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   3. Source of central grants to national funding bodies: Department of Education and Science, External Relations Branch 1964–1966, Arts, Intelligence and External Relations Branch 1966– 1970, Arts and Libraries Branch 1970–1979, Office of Arts and Libraries 1979–1992, Department of National Heritage 1992–1997, Department of Culture, Media and Sport 1997–.    4. LFMC – Relocation: Note of a Meeting held at the Town Hall, Euston Rd, London, 8 July 1975, 2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (LFMC files).   5. Hugh Bailey, General Secretary, International Broadcast Trust (IBT), letter to Heiny Srour, 20 August 1984. The grant was £1500 from Co-operation for Development to IBT to produce and promote an information pack for the film. Terry Lacey, General Secretary, Co-operation for Development, letter to Heiny Srour, 15 August 1984. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Leila and the Wolves, IBT). Eileen McNulty, COW, letter to Jan Parker, Women’s Support Unit, GLC, 12 March 1985. Source: Cinenova (COW films, Leila and the Wolves, worker). These grants contributed to internegative and print production. The BFI facilitated access to the RFT network.   6. ACGB, The Glory of the Garden: The Development of the Arts in England. A Strategy for a Decade, 1984. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/8/51, Financial Controller’s Files, 1967–1995, Glory of the Garden). Not Rudyard Kipling, 1911, ‘The Glory of the Garden’, although Chairman of the Arts Council Sir William Rees-Mogg did quote the Kipling at the launch of the Arts Council’s policy. John Elsom, ‘The Glory of Whose Garden?’ Contemporary Review, 244(1420), May 1984: 261.    7. Video workshop Fantasy Factory was unwillingly devolved to GLA in 1986, and unsuccessfully applied to Arts Council again in 1987. Minutes of the Artists Film & Video Sub-Committee, 8 May 1985: 2–3; Minutes of the Artists’ Film & Video Committee, 15 May 1987: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 10). When LVA’s GLC funding was transferred to the ACGB, the Council immediately devolved LVA to GLA, despite the opposition of the Artists Film and Video Committee. Minutes of the Artists Film & Video Committee, 15–16 May 1986: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/60, AFVC 1972–87, box 11). LVA may have simply been relieved that another funder was willing to take them on, but Fantasy Factory were deeply unhappy with their devolution. John ‘Hoppy’ Hopkins and Sue Hall, in interview with Peter Thomas, 25 February 2005.   8. Richard Wilding, Supporting the Arts: A Review of the Structure of Arts Funding. Commissioned by Arts Minister Richard Luce in December 1988, delivered October 1989.    9. Peter Boyden and Russell Southwood, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’. Commissioned by the Joint Funders Strategy Group September 1988, delivered in October 1989.   10. Hansard, House of Commons Hansard Debates for 13 March 1990 (Columns 155–166). See http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm198990/cmhansrd/1990-03-13/Debate-1.html (accessed 14 July 2010).  11. The British Film Commission and British Screen were also subsumed into the new body. Margaret Dickinson and Sylvia Harvey, ‘Film Policy in the United Kingdom: New Labour at the Movies’, Political Quarterly 76(3), July 2005: 422.   12. Baroness Genista McIntosh, Review of the ACE’s Regularly Funded Organisations Investment Strategy 2007–08 – Lessons Learned, July 2008: 22. Culture, Media and Sport – Third Report, Appendices to the Minutes of Evidence, Letter from Mr Robert Hutchinson, Chief Executive of Southern Arts, http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200102/cmselect/cmcumeds/489/489ap05.htm (accessed 10 July 2010).  13. McIntosh, Review, 2008, ibid., p. 22.

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  14. The ACE’s national council is composed of the nine regional council chairs and six national council members. The ACE’s executive board comprises of the Chief Executive, four national office Directors and the nine regional Executive Directors. McIntosh, ibid., pp. 17–18, 20, 26, 34.  15. The Arts Council’s 990 Regularly Funded Organisations received their proposed funding notices from 12 December 2007, and had until 15 January to respond. Ibid., p. 20. Nearly 200 organisations were threatened with loss of annual funding, although some successfully appealed. Mark Brown, ‘England’s arts face bloodiest cull in half a century as funds are cut for 200 groups’, Guardian, 17 December 2007; Fiona Hamilton, ‘Arts Council changes its tune after the stars challenge cuts’, The Sunday Times, 28 January 2008.   16. McIntosh, ibid., p. 17.   17. Sir Brian McMasters, Supporting Excellence in the Arts: From Measurement to Judgement, DCMS, 2008.   18. Wilding, 1989, op. cit.   19. See for example Alan Fountain, Commissioning Editor, Channel 4, Workshop Policies in the 1990s: A Discussion Document, Channel 4, April 1989. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/41, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989). Available at http://fvdistribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/fountain8904.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).  20.  Felicity Sparrow, GLA, (1989) Joint Funders Strategy Group – London Visits, Meeting with LVA and LFMC, 1 December 1989: 1–2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/ PDFs/JFSGLVA-LFMC891201.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). This was funder-initiated, and included the suggestion that LFMC and LVA merge.   21. Gill Henderson, CEO, LFVDA, email to Gary Thomas, ACE, Holly Tebbutt, LAB, and others, 2 August 2001. Source: Film London. NB: Henderson joined LFVDA in June 1998, after the Lux Centre opened in September 1997.   22. The six MCCs were Greater Manchester, Merseyside, Tyne and Wear, West Midlands, South Yorkshire and West Yorkshire. Together with the GLC, this was the top tier of local government in England. Steve Leach and Chris Game, ‘English Metropolitan Government Since Abolition: An Evaluation of the Abolition of the English Metropolitan County Councils’, Public Administration 69(2), June 1991: 141.   23. ‘Is there art after the GLC?’ The Economist 1 March 1986: 28. GLC and MCC moneys: £25m to the Arts Council, £7m to GLA (about 4 times its previous budget). London Borough of Richmond scheme: £27m (£2m for arts), £16m to individual boroughs. See also Hansard 21 October 1991 v 531 c116WA: ‘Viscount Astor On the abolition of the Greater London Council, the Government provided replacement funding to maintain arts spending through the Arts Council of Great Britain (approximately £18.2 million) and through increased allocations to individual London boroughs (approximately £10.6 million). Following the winding-up of Greater London Arts, the Arts Council similarly made available sufficient funding to the new London Arts Board to allow commitments to clients to be maintained.’ At http://hansard.millbanksystems.com/written_ answers/1991/oct/21/arts-funding-in-london#S5LV0531P0_19911021_LWA_28 (accessed 14 July 2010).   24. See for instance the Office for Arts and Libraries clear instructions to Director of Eastern Arts: ‘£25 million, at least, would be spent in the abolition areas. This [does] not imply that every penny of the £25 million had to be used in replacement of specific items of funding entered into by the metropolitan counties.’ Derek Lodge, OAL, letter to Jeremy Newton, Director, Eastern Arts, 11 February, 1986: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1). 249

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  25. Oral Statement by Richard Luce MP, Minister for the Arts, 14 November 1985. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1).  26.  Richard Pulford, Deputy Secretary-General, ACGB, ‘Future of Metropolitan Authorities’ (C83p42), September 1983: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1).   27. Luke Rittner, Secretary-General, ACGB, letter to Pat Abraham, Director, GLA, 30 January 1986: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1).   28. Paul Collins, ‘Notes of a meeting concerning the abolition of the GLC with Greater London Arts, Monday 28 October’, 1985: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1).   29. Not the only above inflation increase in Arts Council funding, but the most substantial. See Antony Beck, ‘The Impact of Thatcherism on the Arts Council’, Parliamentary Affairs, 42(3), July 1989: 366. Hansard, House of Commons Hansard Debates for 19 December 1986 (Columns 735–737). See http://hansard.millbanksystems.com/written_answers/1986/dec/19/arts-council-grant#S6C V0107P0_19861219_CWA_121 (accessed 14 July 2010).   30. BFI, ‘Funding and Development Report March – April 1987’: 1; BFI, ‘Funding and Development Report May – June 1987’: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/27, A/9 Funding and Development 1987–1988).    31. BFI, Operations Group Meeting, 5 September 1988: 6. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/40, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989). Available at http://fvdistribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/BFI-OGmins880905.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). These minutes also show Whitehead intervening for the Women’s Film, Television and Video Network, and Fantasy Factory.  32. Ibid.   33. Comedia Consultancy, ‘London Video Artists Management Review’, November 1988: 1–33. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers).   34. Practical Arts, LFMC/LVA Proposed Sharing of Premises: Final Report, August 1990. Source: Film London (Lux Build & ERDF papers). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/ PDFs/PA-LFMC-LVA9008.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   35. Cinema of Women & Circles, ‘Take Two Business Plan: Proposed Merger Between Cinema of Women and Circles’, February 1991: 1–51. Source: Cinenova.  36. ACGB, The Glory, 1984, op. cit.   37. Victoria D. Alexander, ‘State Support of Artists: The Case of the United Kingdom in a New Labour Environment and Beyond’, Journal of Arts Management, Law and Society, 37(3) Fall 2007: 187.  38. ACGB, The Glory, 1984, op. cit.   39. Wilding, 1989, op. cit.   40. James I. Walsh, ‘When Do Ideas Matter?: Explaining the Successes and Failures of Thatcherite Ideas’, Comparative Political Studies, 33(4), May 2000: 509.   41. Department of the Environment, Streamlining the Cities: Government Proposals for Reorganising Local Government in Greater London and the Metropolitan Counties, October 1983. Cmnd. 9063, London: HMSO.   42. P.C. McQuail, Department of the Environment, Guidance to London Borough Chief Executives, 16 July 1985. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927– 1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1). Local Government Act 1985. See http://opsi.gov.uk/RevisedStatutes/Acts/ukpga/1985/cukpga_19850051_en_1 (accessed 14 July 2010). 250

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  43. E.K. Berry, ‘The Local Government Act 1985 and the archive services of the Greater London Council and metropolitan county councils’, Journal of the Society of Archivists, 9(3), July 1988: 119–147. Leach and Chris, 1991, op. cit., pp. 141–70. J.A. Chandler, Public Policy-Making for Local Government (London: Croom Helm, 1988). N. Flynn, S. Leach and C. Vielba, Abolition or Reform? The GLC and the Metropolitan County Councils (London: Allen and Unwin, 1985). A. Forrester, S. Lansley and R. Pauley, Beyond our Ken: A Guide to the Battle for London (London: Fourth Estate, 1985). Toby Travers, ‘London after abolition’, Local Government Studies, 16(3), May 1990: 105–16. Christopher T. Husbands, ‘Attitudes to Local Government in London: evidence from opinion surveys and the GLC by-elections of 20 September 1984’, London Journal, 11(1), Summer 1985: 59–74.   44. For an analysis of the monetarist policies of the Thatcher government’s first term, see Walsh, 2000, op. cit., pp. 494–509.   45. From 1981 the Labour-controlled GLC was the most conspicuous source of opposition to the Government’s offensive against public expenditure. Brendan O’Leary, ‘British Farce, French Drama and Tales of Two Cities: Reorganisations of Paris and London Governments 1957–86’, Public Administration, 65, Winter 1987: 379.   46. Paul Marris, in interview with Peter Thomas, 25 November 2004. Richard Wilding, OAL, letter to Luke Rittner, Secretary-General, ACGB, 12 July 1985, p. 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/7, Abolition of the GLC & MCCs 1985–87, General, box 1).   47. Alexander, 2007, op. cit., p. 189.  48. See Walsh, op. cit., p. 507: ‘The Conservative electoral manifesto of 1979 committed the government to reducing overall public expenditure […] expenditure cuts would be concentrated on local government, nationalized industries, and a few other programs.’   49. ‘BFI Royal Charter’ at https://www.bfi.org.uk/about/charter.html (accessed 14 July 2010). The charter was granted 18 July 1983, and made the BFI far harder to abolish.   50. Phyllida Shaw, Joan Fowler and Declan McGonagle, ‘On the Reproduction of the Corporate Image’, Circa, 36, Sep–Oct 1987: 16. Beck, op. cit., p. 365. Speech by the Arts Minister Richard Luce to CoRAA Conference (transcript), Newcastle Upon Tyne, 8 July 1987: 1, 8. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/27, A/9 Funding and Development 1987–1988).   51. BFI Operations, September 1988, op. cit., p. 6.   52. Irene Whitehead, Acting Head, Funding and Development, BFI, Memorandum: Funding and Development Budgets 1989/90 – 1991/92, 9 January 1989: 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/39, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989).  53. Ibid.   54. Ibid., p. 2.   55. Ibid., p. 3.   56. Beck, op. cit., p. 368; Luce, Speech, op. cit., p. 8.  57. Ibid.   58. Whitehead, Memorandum: Funding and Development Budgets, op. cit., pp. 1–2.   59. Irene Whitehead, ‘Funding and Development Division – Report for Oct-Dec 1988’: 2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/39, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989).  60. Irene Whitehead, ‘Funding and Development Division – Report, January-March 1989’: 3. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/40, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989).   61. Ibid. See Chapter 5 for details of COW’s voluntary liquidation.   62. Irene Whitehead, in interview with Peter Thomas, 29 June 2004. 251

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 63.  Michael Prescott, Assistant Director, BFI, ‘Restructuring – Reallocation of Funding and Development Budgets; Note of a meeting, 3 November 1989 (MP/FR/000381)’: 1–3. Prescott, Memorandum: Restructuring: Reallocation of Funding and Development Budgets, November1989 (MP/FR/C/1/000397): 1–2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/71, A/8 Funding and Development 1989–1990).   64. Irene Whitehead, Head of Funding and Development, BFI, ‘Joint Funders Strategy Group – London visits; Meeting with Circles, 21 November 1989’: 1–2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group).  65. Baker Tilly Management Associates, letter to Sarah Bratby, Circles, 11 June 1990. Source: Cinenova (Circles, Incoming correspondence 1987–1989, Jan 1990–Aug 1990).   66. Boyden and Southwood, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., p. 31.   67. Ibid., p. 115.   68. Ibid., p. 113.   69. Ibid., p. 66.   70. The only place that the independent sector is not put in quotes is the title on the front page.   71. Boyden and Southwood, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., p. 68: ‘Few groups possess the necessary skills to make a success of marketing and distributing their own product.’   72. Ibid., pp. 65–66, and p. 75 for comparison of TOC Cinema to commercial releases.   73. Ibid., pp. 65–66.   74. Ibid., p. 25.   75. Krishan Arora and Justin Lewis, Off the Shelf: A Video Marketing Workbook (IFVPA/London Strategic Policy Unit, 1987). Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, Publications). Jon Dovey and Jo Dungey, The Videoactive Report (London: Videoactive, 1985). Source: courtesy of the Lux. Videoactive was funded by the Gulbenkian Foundation, BFI, Channel 4, GLA and the GLC, having been proposed by Tony Dowmunt; see Tony Dowmunt, Albany Video, letter to John Buston, Grants Officer, GLC, 25 January 1984. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 36). Other independent sector distribution studies and sectoral surveys include: Tony Bloor, ‘IFA East Midlands and Distribution’, May 1981. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 5). The IFA Distribution Sub-Committee (Jonathan Curling, Tony Kirkhope, Tammy Walker, Mark Nash) in 1983. Simon Blanchard, Film and Video Exhibition and Distribution in London (IFVA/Economic Policy Group Strategy Document no. 21), November 1983. IFVA and CoRAA Weekend Seminar on Distribution and Exhibition of Independent Film, 12–13 May 1984. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 14). This list is not intended to be exhaustive, but to illustrate the amount of inconvenient history shunted aside by the Boyden Southwood Report. These earlier efforts were known to the relevant funding agencies, who had supported them, and almost certainly to the consultants, who made liberal use of the IFVPA’s estimable collection of sector-specific information. Simon Blanchard, in interview with Peter Thomas, 24 November 2004.   76. Boyden and Southwood, ‘Developing’, 1989, op. cit., pp. 70, 112.   77. Ibid., p. 77.   78. Ibid., p. 35.   79. Ibid., p. 66.   80. Ibid., p. 77.   81. Ian Christie, Head of BFI Distribution, and Irene Whitehead, Head of BFI Planning, letter to Abina Manning, COW, Jenny Shabbaz Wallace, COW, Sarah Bratby, Circles, and Liane Harris, Circles, 25 March 1991, pp. 1–2. Source: Cinenova (Circles/COW meetings).

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  82. Steve McIntyre, Funding and Development, BFI, ‘Report from the RCC Working Party on Media Centres’, 1988: 3. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/27, A/9 Funding and Development 1987–1988).  83. Ibid.   84. Ibid., pp. 2, 3, 7.   85. Ibid., pp. 2 (2.1), 5 (3.2).   86. Ibid., p. 5.   87. Ibid., p. 6.   88. Ibid., p. 2.   89. Ibid., p. 4.   90. Ibid., p. 7.  91. Ibid.   92. Ibid., p. 4.   93. Fantasy Factory, ‘Application for Funding to Move 3-Mcn Edit Suite’, 3 November 1993: 8. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1987–1993, box 3).  94. Ibid.   95. Felicity Sparrow, GLA, ‘Greater London Arts: Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector in London’, 19 January 1990: 3. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/ sparrow90119.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   96. Fantasy Factory, ‘Response to the Southwood Report: Development or Dismantling?’ 14 July 1989: 3. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 36). Available at http://fv-distributiondatabase.ac.uk/PDFs/FF-Sthwood19890714.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).   97. Hansard, 13 March 1990, op. cit.   98. Association of District Councils, Arts and the Districts, 1989: 70. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/40, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989).   99. Hansard, 13 March 1990, op. cit. 100. Hansard, House of Commons Hansard Debates for 20 February 1991 (Column 615). See http:// hansard.millbanksystems.com/lords/1991/feb/20/the-performing-arts#S5LV0526P0_19910220_ HOL_191 (accessed 14 July 2010). BFI, ‘Funding for Film and Video in London: a Discussion Document’, May 1991: 1. Source: courtesy of Sarah Turner. 101. Ibid. 102. Rodney Wilson, Director, Film Video & Broadcasting Dept, ACGB, and David Curtis, Film and Video Officer, ACGB, ‘Response to the Government Review of the Structure of Arts Funding by the Director, Department of Film, Video and Broadcasting and the FVO’, June 1989: 6. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/41, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989). Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, letter to Richard Wilding, OAL, 28 July 1989: 1–2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/39, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989). The BFI made a more serious attempt to take over the ACGB’s Film, Video and Broadcasting Department later during the 1992 negotiations with the OAL. ACGB, Minutes of the 100th Meeting of the Artists’ Film and Video Committee, 28 March 1992: 1. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1987–93, box 2). 103. BFI, ‘Funding for Film and Video’, 1991, op. cit., p. 2. Note also BFI Director Wilf Stevenson’s repeated suggestions that the ACGB confine itself to funding film and broadcast to promote the

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arts, not as an art. See Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, letter to Richard Wilding, OAL, 28 July 1989: 1–2. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/39, A/11 Funding and Development 1988–1989). Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, letter to Anthony Everitt, Secretary General, ACGB, 31 May 1991: 1–2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/197, LFVDA 1991–96). 104. See for instance the ACGB’s LFVDA file, held at Victoria and Albert Museum, which is comprised largely of overtures from the LFVDA and their rebuffs, plus internal ACGB reasoning on the necessity of doing so. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/197, LFVDA 1991–96). 105. Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, letter to Andrea Wonfor, Channel 4/LFVDA Board, 11 March 1993: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 106. Irene Whitehead, Head of Planning, BFI, letter to LFVDA Board, 20 January 1993: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 107. Irene Whitehead, Head of Planning, BFI, letter to David Powell, Acting Chief Executive, LFVDA, 15 January 1993: 2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 108. David Powell, Acting Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Tony Kirkhope, Metro Pictures/LFVDA Board, 15 March 1993: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London 109. Peter Westley, Gouldens, letter to David Powell, Acting Chief Executive, LFVDA, 23 March 1993: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 110. Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, letter to Florian Beigel, 7 June 1993: 1–3. Irene Whitehead, Head of Planning, BFI, letter to Florian Beigel, 6 September 1993: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 111. David Powell, Acting Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Peter Westley, Gouldens, 19 March 1993: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 112. Association of District Councils, op. cit.: 71. 113. LFMC Newsletter, December 1990, p. 7. Source: courtesy of Guy Sherwin. The final £3.5K needed was raised from the ACGB in March 1992. Rodney Wilson, Director, Film Video & Broadcasting Dept, ACGB, letter to Sarah Turner, LFMC Distribution, 13 March 1992, ref: 75001/9202816A: 1. They had asked for £4233.75. Tony Warcus, LFMC Distribution, letter to David Curtis, Film Officer, AFVC, ACGB, 5 February 1992: 1. The BFI had recently offered £3500 as a match deal. Tony Warcus and Sarah Turner, LFMC Distribution organisers (LFMC) (1992), The London Filmmakers Co-op Distribution Catalogue: Grant Application (to the ACGB), 1992: 2. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1987–93, box 2). 114. Tom Heslop, London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, AGCB Application Form: Regional Project Development Fund, 1990: 3. Source: Victoria and Albert Museum (Arts Council of Great Britain, Records 1927–1997, ACGB/54/61, AFVC 1989–1993, box 1). 115. LFMC, Minutes of the 12 January 1991 Annual General Meeting of the London Filmmakers’ Co-operative: 7. Source: courtesy of Duncan Reekie. 116. LFMC, London Filmmakers’ Co-operative Newsletter, December 1990: 8–12. Source: courtesy of Duncan Reekie. 117. As it was for Cordelia Swann and Moira Sweeney. 118. LFMC Newsletter, December 1990, op. cit., p. 7. 119. Ian Christie, Head of Distribution, BFI, reported in LFMC, Minutes of London Filmmakers’ Co-operative Executive Meeting, 18 July 1991: 1. Source: courtesy of Sarah Turner. Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/LFMCexec910718.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011).

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120. Irene Whitehead, reported in ibid. 121. Ibid., pp. 1–5. According to the consultancy document, Stage Two meant: ‘find building; put strategies together, including financial strategies; submit applications; sort out professional relationships with architects, etc.; establish Trust and finalise operational aspects’. Practical Arts, op. cit., p. 38. Clearly some things were being done out of order. 122. Joint Funders Strategy Group, Minutes of the Joint Funders Strategy Group, 1 November 1989: 1–2. Source: British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (Joint Funders Strategy Group). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/JFSGmins891101.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 123. BFI, ‘Funding for Film and Video’, 1991, op. cit., p. 1. This paper led directly to the founding of LFVDA. 124. Minutes of Meeting with Funders over Boyden Southwood Report, 7 July 1989: 1–3. Source: Sheffield Hallam University (IFVPA, box 36). Available at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/ PDFs/JFSG-Sthwood890707.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 125. The BFI’s preferred building at this point, Dunn and Co, would also have been rent capped. 126. Peter Gidal, Malcolm Le Grice, Alia Syed, Tanya Syed (LFMC Executive Committee), Tom Heslop (LFMC Distribution), Karen Smith (LFMC Executive Committee), Tony Warcus (LFMC Distribution), Sarah Turner, Sandy Weiland (LFMC Administrator), Mary Pat Leece, Ilias Pantos, Philip Sanderson and Philip Baker, ‘Alternative Agenda, Proposals and Information for the 12 October 1991 Extraordinary General meeting of the London Filmmakers’ Co-operative’, 4 October 1991: 3. Source: courtesy of Sarah Turner. 127. Ibid. 128. LFMC Building Committee, Report on the LFMC Relocation Project, London Filmmakers’ Co-operative, September 1991: 1–5. Source: courtesy of Sarah Turner. Available at http://fvdistribution-database.ac.uk/PDFs/LFMC-BC910910.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 129. Gidal et al., ‘Alternative Agenda’, 1991, op. cit., p. 3. 130. For examples of the apparent enthusiasm for decentralisation, see Roger Lancaster, Director, Yorkshire Arts, Review of the Arts Funding Structure (E.17.7), 20 March 1989: 1–9. CoRAA, Review of the Structure and Organisation for Support of the Arts in England – Submission from the Council of Regional Arts Associations (CG/CN/C3.7.1/7.6.89), 7 June 1989: 1–9. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/40, A/11 Funding and Development 1988– 1989). 131. Irene Whitehead, Acting Head, Funding and Development, BFI, ‘The BFI and Regional Arts Associations – Briefing Note’, 5 January 1989: 1–4. She notes the existence of conflict between the BFI and Arts Council of Great Britain (ACGB) policy and priority, and between the BFI wish to coordinate developments on a national level and the autonomist tendencies of some RAAs. She also notes that the historical principle of seeking match funding from local sources for BFI contributions to RAAs has lead to a further £1 million becoming available. Irene Whitehead, Acting Head, Funding and Development, BFI, ‘BFI Governing Body: Response to the Government Review of the Structure of Arts Funding (draft) (ws.7308/E/1)’, April 1989: 1–7. BFI, ‘Funding and Development Division – Report, January-March 1989’: 1–4. BFI, ‘Funding and Development Division – Report, July-October 1989’: 1–4. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Directorate Files, D/71, A/8 Funding and Development 1989–1990). 132. Sandy Weiland, in interview with Peter Thomas and Duncan Reekie, 28 June 2005. Jim Pines, in interview with Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, 7 March 2006. 133. Christie, reported in LFMC, 1991, op. cit.

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134. Irene Whitehead, Head of Planning, BFI, letter to Sandy Weiland, LFMC Administrator, 30 September 1991: 1. This letter was included in the staff faction’s mailout for the EGM of 12 October 1991. Source: courtesy of Sarah Turner. Available at http://fv-distribution-database. ac.uk/PDFs/gidaletal911004.pdf (accessed 1 February 2011). 135. Chandler, letter to Florian Beigel, June 1993, and Whitehead, letter to Florian Beigel, September 1993, op. cit. 136. Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, letter of Indemnity to Glasshouse Investments, 13 April 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 137. Wilf Stevenson, letter to Larry Chrisfield (LFVDA Board), 19 April 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 138. Oonagh Alen-Buckley, Alen-Buckley & Co, letter to Michael Maziere, LVA, 7 June 1994: 1–2. LFVDA, Minutes of LFVDA Hoxton Building sub-committee meeting, 22 June 1994: 1–3. Mark Phillips, Nicholson, Graham & Jones, letter to Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 19 May 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 139. Alen-Buckley, letter to Maziere, 1994, ibid. 140. Tony Kirkhope, Metro Tartan, letter to Steve McInyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 10 October 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 141. LFVDA, Minutes, 22 June 1994, op. cit. Mark Phillips, Nicholson, Graham & Jones, letter to Rachel Booth, Macfarlanes, 31 October 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 142. David Nicholson, Glasshouse Investments, letter to Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, 31 October 1994: 1. Source: Film London (Lux Leases, Hoxton Legal). Phillips, letter to Booth, Macfarlanes, op. cit., p. 1. 143. Andrew Attfield, Dalston City Partnership, letter to Irene Whitehead, Head of Cinema Services and Development, BFI, 2 November 1994: 1–2. Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, Briefing Notes on Hoxton Square Development, as of 15/6/94: 1–2. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Larry Chrisfield, LFVDA Board, 16 November 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 144. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, 23 November 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 145. Larry Chrisfield, Chair, LFVDA Board, letter to Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive Officer, LFVDA, 9 August 1994: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 146. Michael Maziere, Director, LEA, letter to Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, 2 February 1995: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 147. Irene Whitehead, Head of Cinema Services and Development, BFI, letter to Nicholas Morgan, LFMC, 2 March 1995: 1–2. Irene Whitehead, Head of Cinema Services and Development, BFI, letter to Nicholas Morgan, LFMC, 11 April 1995: 1. Irene Whitehead, Head of Cinema Services and Development, BFI, letter to Michael Maziere/Abina Manning, LEA, 11 April 1995: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. See also that the rent guarantee as explained by Whitehead to the Coop in 1991 was current rent plus 5 per cent. Gidal et al., ‘Alternative Agenda’, 1991, op. cit., p. 3. 148. Whitehead, letter to Morgan, 2 March, ibid. 149. A.J. Stewart, DNH, letter to Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 17 December 1996: 1–12. Source: courtesy of Film London. 150. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to David Eardley, Government Office for London, 30 June 1995: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 151. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Adrian Smith, Government Office for London, 27 March 1996: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London.

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152. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Wilf Stevenson, Director, BFI, 12 September, 1996: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 153. Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, letter to Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 6 September 1996: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 154. Ibid. 155. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Jane Carpenter, Government Office for London, 24 December 1996: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. Stewart, letter to McIntyre, 17 December 1996, op. cit. 156. The famous £3 million of Lottery Funding arrived in two allocations: £200,000 in October 1996 and £2.8 million in December. Jeremy Newton, National Lottery Director, letter to Michael Maziere, Director, LEA, 21 October 1996: 1–3. Jeremy Newton, National Lottery Director, letter to Michael Maziere, Director, LEA, 19 December 1996: 1–4. Source: courtesy of Film London. 157. Stewart, letter to McIntyre, 17 December 1996, op. cit. Newton, letter to Maziere, 19 December 1996, ibid. 158. Chris Chandler, Regional Planning Officer, BFI, letter to Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 19 July 1995: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 159. In July 1998 the BFI Regional Development Unit found that it had spent £305,000 on the Lux Centre development over the previous six years. Lucy Douche, Regional Development Unit, BFI, ‘Lux Centre: Briefing Note’, 15 July 1998: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 160. McIntyre, letter to Stevenson, 12 September 1996, op. cit. 161. LFMC, ‘Report to funders on LFMC’s financial position’, 19 March 1998: 1–4. Source: courtesy of Film London. 162. Steve McIntyre, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Sandy Weiland, LFMC Administrator, 12 February 1998. Source: courtesy of Film London. 163. LFMC, ‘Report’, op. cit., p. 1. 164. Mik Flood, LEA Chair, and Mark Sheehan, LFMC Chair, letter to David Curtis, Senior Film and Video Officer, ACE, 16 April 1998. BSA, ‘The Lux Centre: Contingency Funding Consultancy – Interim Issues Paper’, 2 February 1999: 29. Source: courtesy of Film London. Figures given were calculated at a later date and, in view of the number of times historical and contemporary deficits were re-estimated upwards over the coming years, they may not have been the extent of the problem. 165. Flood and Sheehan, op. cit., p. 1. 166. The Boards of LEA and LFMC, ‘Joint Statement from the Boards to the Staff of LEA and LFMC’, 18 June 1998: 2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 167. ‘LEA/LFMC Financial Report: A presentation for funders, 14 September 1998’: 2, 9, 15. Source: courtesy of Film London. 168. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. 169. Toby Scott, Acting head of Business Assessment and Planning, ACE, letter to John Woodward, Director, BFI, 10 December 1998: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 170. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. 171. Scott, letter to Woodward, op. cit., p. 2. 172. Mik Flood, Chair of the Board of Directors, Memo to Lux Staff, ACE Contingency Funding: Consultancy Meetings, 6 January 1996: 1. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. Lux, Press Release: We Two are One – London Film Makers’ Co-op and London Electronic Arts in Historic Merger, 29 January 1999: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 173. Flood, ibid. 174. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. 257

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175. Roland Denning, Secretary and Member of the Lux Board of Directors, letter to Toby Scott, ACE, April 1999: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 176. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. 177. Ibid. 178. John Woodward, Director, BFI, letter to Toby Scott, ACE, 8 October 1998: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 179. DCMS, A Bigger Picture: The Report of the Film Policy Review Group, 1998. 180. Peter Hewitt, ACE, letter to John Woodward, Chief Executive Officer, Film Council, 23 May 2000: 2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 181. Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, letter to Carol Comely, BFI, 12 May 1999. Source: couretsy of Film London. 182. Gill Henderson, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, 13 May 1999: 1–2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 183. Lux, ‘Lux Centre Business Plan 2000/2003, Draft 2’, 1 September 1999. Source: courtesy of Film London. 184. BSA, ‘Interim Issues’, op. cit., p. 29. 185. Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, ‘ACE Self Assessment Paper 1998/99’, 22 June 1999. Source: courtesy of Film London. 186. Gill Henderson, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Michael Maziere Director, Lux Centre, 17 March 2000: 1. Jon Teckman, BFI Director, letter to Gill Henderson, Chief Executive, LFVDA, 17 March 2000: 1. Sources: courtesy of Film London 187. Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, letter to Jon Teckman, BFI Director, 28 April 2000. Source: courtesy of Film London. 188. See for instance ibid. Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, letter to Jon Teckman, Director, BFI, 4 September 2000. Source: courtesy of Film London. 189. Teckman quoted by Hewitt, letter to Woodward, 23 May 2000, op. cit., p. 1. Paul Brett, Head of Cinema Services, BFI, letter to Michael Maziere, Director, The Lux, 29 August 2000: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 190. Whitehead, letter to Weiland, op. cit., p. 1. 191. Michael Maziere, Director, Lux Centre, letter to Jon Teckman, BFI Director, 28 April 2000. Source: courtesy of Film London. Hewitt, letter to Woodward, 23 May 2000, op. cit. 192. Hewitt, ibid. 193. Gary Thomas, ACE, email to Holly Tebbutt, LAB, 10 November 2000: 1. Minutes of Lux Board of Directors Meeting, 14 March 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 194. Mik Flood, Application for Admittance to the Recovery Programme, Stabilisation Unit, ACE, 10 October 2000. Source: courtesy of Film London. 195. ACE, Recovery Programme Strategic Stocktake Report: Lux Centre Limited, 30 November 2000 (authored by John Webb): 2, 5. Source: courtesy of Film London. 196. Flood, Application for Admittance, October 2000, op. cit. 197. Ibid.; ACE, Strategic Stocktake, November 2000, op. cit., p. 7. 198. Minutes of LFVDA/ACE and Recovery Consultants, 12 February 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London (Lux 2001). Gill Henderson, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Jon Teckman, Director, BFI, 13 June 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 199. Lux Minutes, 4 March 2001, op. cit., p. 1; Recovery Programme, The Lux Centre, Hoxton Square, undated. Source: courtesy of Film London. 200. Minutes of Lux Board of Directors Meeting, 24 January 2001: 1. Minutes of Lux Board of Directors Meeting, 15 February 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 258

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201. Minutes of Lux Board of Directors and Annual General Meeting, 16 July 2001: 2. Source: courtesy of Film London. 202. Lux minutes, 16 July, op. cit., p. 2. 203. Gordon Bates, The Lux Centre: Position Statement, August 2001: 3. Source: courtesy of Film London. 204. Ibid., p. 1. 205. Ibid. 206. Benjamin Cook, ex-Head of Distribution/Acting Executive Officer, Lux, email: ‘Lux Centre’ announcement of closure, 3 October 2001. Source: Frameworks e-list. 207. Julia Knight, Notes from Open Meeting of Filmmakers after closure of Lux Centre, 20 October 2001. Source: courtesy of Julia Knight. Minutes of meeting of Film/Video-Makers/Artists with work in distribution held by the former Lux Centre – and all former members of the LFMC and LEA, 20 October 2001: 2. Source: courtesy of Felicity Sparrow. 208. Letter from Jon Teckman, Sight and Sound, 12(2), February 2002: 72. 209. Knight, Notes from Open Meeting, 2001, op. cit. Minutes of meeting of Film/Video-Makers/ Artists, 2001, op. cit., p. 2. 210. Recovery Programme, The Lux Centre, undated, op. cit., p. 1. 211. All from the opening programme of the Lux Cinema. 212. Hewitt, letter to Woodward, 23 May 2000, op. cit. 213. Gill Henderson, Chief Executive, LFVDA, letter to Dawn Langley, ACE, 19 April 2001. Source: courtesy of Film London. 214. Gary Thomas, email to Gill Henderson, LFVDA, Holly Tebbutt, LAB, Kim Evans, ACE, Dawn Langley, ACE, Greg Hilty, LAB, Marjorie Allthorpe-Guyton, ACE, Joanna Buick, ACE, 3 August 2001: 1. Source: courtesy of Film London. 215. The Lux Catalogue Supplement is largely composed of ‘Special Touring Packages’ rather than individual films or videos.

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Chapter 7 Understanding Distribution

[ T]he only valid and vital film culture is one based on the widest possible distribution and exhibition of as wide a range of titles as possible, to as wide a range of audiences as possible. (Vincent Porter, ‘BFI Exhibition Policy: Films and Critical Concepts’, 1986)1

A

s noted in our Introduction, the organisations discussed in this book contributed to a period of intensive activity around independent and artists’ film and video. The preceding chapters have endeavoured to document certain aspects of that historical activity. Namely, the contributions made by those organisations to ensuring that nonmainstream and usually non-commercial work reached its potential audiences, to helping ensure – as noted above by Vincent Porter – that those audiences could enjoy and engage with ‘as wide a range of titles as possible’. However, as has become evident, the varied concerns of those involved in that sector, the number of organisations that were set up, the multiple challenges they faced, the various and competing initiatives instigated by distribution organisations and funders alike, together with often rapidly changing conditions, makes for a complex history. It is perhaps unsurprising then that, while a growing body of literature is emerging dealing with the role of distributors in the mainstream industry, the activity of bringing ‘alternative’ material to audiences has been critically neglected. As also explained in our Introduction, we are equally concerned with improving our understanding of the factors that influence our moving image culture – that contribute to or limit the diversity of the moving image culture we experience – and have argued that distribution activity plays a key role. Delving into the above history via a multiple-case study approach allows us to draw out a number of analytic generalisations, which in turn enable a much better understanding of why this particular area of distribution activity developed in the way it did, both facilitating and hampering the organisations’ effectiveness. It is widely recognised, for instance, that the kinds of organisations that have formed the focus of this book are set up around the energies of their founding members, but it is rarely observed how fragile that makes them. Not only do founders inevitably move on, but the availability of volunteer labour plays a vital role. Further, the smallness of such organisations not only limits the scope of their activity, it also means individuals can have an enormous impact on their success – and indeed survival – or otherwise. As noted in Chapters 3 and 4, when distribution worker Jane Parish and exhibition organiser Jeremy Welsh both left London Video Access (LVA) within months of each other in 1987, it meant the organisation lost key expertise which could not immediately be replaced, and contributed to a dramatic 263

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fall-off in activity. Around the same time LVA suffered from an individual levelling an accusation of staff misconduct, which directly led to their funder putting them on review and a radical restructure of the organisation. Conversely, as discussed in Chapter 4, in 1989 Tom Heslop and Tony Warcus transformed LFMC Distribution by pushing through reforms that allowed them to more aggressively tackle promotion. While the long-term survival of the Film and Video Umbrella (FVU) is to a large degree due to its ability to access increased levels of funding to support its increased activity, part of its success is also attributable to the consistent stewardship of Steven Bode, its current Director, which now spans 20 years. Although spanning a shorter period, the new Lux organisation has similarly benefited from the long-term directorship of Benjamin Cook. Obviously the actions of individuals have to be understood within and as part of the wider historical context, but time and again they have had a crucial impact. The historical evidence, as discussed in the preceding chapters, also demonstrates the resource intensive nature of building audiences for non-commercial and unfamiliar work – of precisely ensuring its ‘widest possible distribution and exhibition’ – and how difficult it was for these kinds of organisations to scale up their level of activity. Part of the difficulty stemmed from the nature of operating in a subsidised economy. When activity is already subsidised, increasing it requires more funding. Hence funded expansion tends to fuel the time consuming and costly search for further funding. This was certainly the case for the LFMC in the wake of their landmark 1975 BFI grant to develop the workshop activity (as discussed in Chapter 1), again for The Other Cinema (TOC) as soon as they opened the doors of their Charlotte Street cinema in 1976 (as discussed in Chapter 2), and yet again for the LFMC and LEA as soon as they opened at the new Lux Centre in Hoxton Square (as discussed in Chapter 6). However, the energy and commitment that gave rise to – was necessary to – the birth of the organisations, also usually precluded the financial and business skills that were required to manage and direct their growth. This was certainly evident in TOC’s history and in Cinenova’s struggles (as discussed in Chapter 5), but also a factor in the saga of the ill-fated Lux Centre. During the late 1990s, the Lux had a £1m annual turnover, a scale of business that none of the workers had any prior experience of dealing with – most had come from organisations that would struggle to turnover £100,000 per annum. While their early dependence on volunteer labour made the organisations discussed in this book highly vulnerable, their funded expansion frequently destabilised them and rendered them even more vulnerable. If anything, such organisations have had a greater chance of survival by remaining small-scale and keeping overheads to a minimum. Indeed, Cinenova has continued to survive – albeit as a relatively passive distributor – by doing precisely that.2 But perhaps more than anything, the factor that helps explain how independent film and video distribution activity (and indeed the wider independent sector) developed through the latter part of the twentieth century is the entry of state funding into the area, as discussed in Chapter 1, and the changing nature of that funding, as discussed in Chapter 6. The distribution activity in and of itself was not at all dependent on grant aid. With the exception of the Film and Video Umbrella (FVU), which was a funder-originated initiative, 264

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all the distributors operated initially under their own steam and motivation. Although they accessed small grants to assist with catalogues, print acquisition or equipment purchase, these were discrete projects which did not bind them to a particular funder. In the absence of such funding, they begged, borrowed, improvised or canvassed for donations. While the BFI’s 1975 grant to the LFMC marked the entry of annual revenue funding into the sector and allowed the level of activity to increase, the funding was thus reactive to activity – and ideas – already in existence. For the distributors, that activity centred around making available a collection of work and raising the visibility of that work – indeed, as noted in our Introduction, that was what to a large degree motivated the setting up of such organisations. What characterises the changes in funding in the run up to and wake of the Wilding Review in 1988–89 is a shift from a reactive mode on the part of funders in support of that activity, to a proactive one whereby funders began to direct and essentially own the activity. While both the LFMC and LVA were faced with having to move out of long established premises and find new ones during that era, the Lux Centre project as a solution to that problem was funder driven. Although funded clients were repeatedly required to prioritise generating more earned income as vital to future survival, in fact large sums of revenue, capital and match funding remained available – and had to be spent – for high profile, prestige exhibition centred projects, such as the Lux. Organisations that had been brought to life through DIY/artist-led activism were faced with the choice of being shoehorned into such projects, becoming self-sustaining, or falling by the wayside. Furthermore, examining the activities of independent and artists’ film and video distribution organisations facilitates an understanding of the relationship between collection maintenance and promotion that lie at the heart of distribution. Of the organisations that have been examined in the preceding chapters, the Umbrella initially appears something of an exception. While the LFMC, TOC, LVA/LEA, COW, Circles, Albany Video Distribution (AVD) and Cinenova were traditional distributors in that they maintained and promoted their own collections, during the 1980s FVU was a curatorial agency which promoted selected works from other distribution collections for a fixed period. However, as discussed in Chapter 4, this is not a clear-cut distinction – rather it is a case of the Umbrella concentrating on a particular sub-division of generic distribution activity. Although FVU fielded packages of short works, its activity in promoting those works to venues is – as we have seen – a normal activity for any distributor (such as Artificial Eye and the US distributor Women Make Movies, as well as TOC, COW and LVA). While distributors will normally maintain a collection or back catalogue, they also normally license rights to works for a fixed period. Thus while FVU’s licensing of works for only the life of a touring package was an extreme variant, so was the LFMC’s and LVA’s indefinite holding of works by makers’ consent. While FVU’s maintenance of a ‘collection’ only as large as its current promotional activities was unusual, so was LFMC and LVA distribution’s promotion of its collection only as a whole. Thus a traditional distributor, in the sense of a widely practised norm across commercial and non-commercial sectors, would be a distributor which maintained an acquisition and de-acquisition policy to control, update and focus its collection, engaged in packaging and 265

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promotion, and actively sought outlets for the work. Thus TOC, COW, Circles/Cinenova and AVD would occupy the ‘norm’, combining the maintenance of a collection, administration of distribution, availability of acquired titles for several years and promotion. These can be seen as ‘units’ of distribution activity. LFMC and LVA, for some of their existence, did not engage in the promotion of individual titles, while FVU did not maintain a collection and administered distribution of their acquired titles for short periods only. Likewise there are distinctions regarding market segments – theatrical (cinemas), semitheatrical (other public venues such as arts centres), non-theatrical (other screening outlets such as community halls, local authorities, film clubs, educational institutions), broadcast (primarily Channel 4, BBC and overseas broadcasters), institutional video hires and sales (directly from a distributor), sell-through video (via retail stores and mail order), consumer video rentals (through high street rental shops) and gallery rentals and sales. During the period studied these different market segments frequently demanded a commitment to a particular media format – 35mm film for theatrical, 16mm film and a variety of video formats for non-theatrical, while video hires and sales to the public were predominantly – and eventually only – on VHS. None of the distributors studied were active in only one segment. TOC and COW, for instance, were theatrical and non-theatrical film distributors who moved into video hires and sales when this became possible; LVA dealt with the gallery market and undertook non-theatrical distribution to the educational sector, but moved into television sales when conditions permitted; while AVD was launched when institutional video hire became widely established and moved into mail order sell-through as the domestic video market developed. Thus, structurally, the evolution of each distributor, and their similarities and differences to each other, can be mapped out both in terms of units of distribution activity and market segments approached. Finally, with the exception of AVD, each distributor sought a close alliance with and continuous access to an exhibition space and thus to the public. LFMC maintained a non-theatrical cinema throughout its existence, TOC constantly sought or maintained a theatrical cinema, COW developed close relations with the several London cinemas, Circles used Four Corners’ non-theatrical cinema space, LVA remained close to the AIR Gallery for its first 10 years, while FVU utilised the regional film theatre circuit and built up relationships with regional galleries. Although not all of these venues were successful as revenue generators, all distributors considered them valuable places to expose work and render it and themselves visible. Maintaining a ‘home venue’ was thus so common it can, for these purposes, be considered a unit of distribution activity, while in contrast relatively few exhibition venues maintain a distribution collection. This helps clarify the history of the video access libraries (VALs), discussed in Chapter 3, and some distributors’ attitudes to them. The VALs maintained a collection, did not seek to engage in distribution by sending it off-site, but had a venue in which to expose it. These venues were mostly in well-known art centres, and initial reports suggested that school and college groups would make trips to view the tapes. Thus it is understandable that LVA fought against the possibility of some of their trade migrating to the alternative service of a collection with a prominent venue, and 266

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sought a deal which both limited the growth of the such collections and the VALs’ ability to expose it. Seeing distribution strategies and the historical activity in terms of these units of distribution activity allows a better understanding of the cooperation and conflict that emerged between the organisations and schemes that have been discussed in this book. Including the units which lie in between the administration of a collection and the exhibition of works – availability of titles for a fixed period, packaging and promotion, and seeking outlets – enabled, for instance, a closer examination of the role of both the distributors’ collections in terms of their use value and the distributors’ links with outside parties and organisations. In particular, LFMC, LVA, Circles and TOC (in the case of both their Charlotte Street and later Metro cinemas) distribution did not run cinemas or screening venues – LFMC cinema, LVA exhibition, Four Corners, TOC Exhibition and Metro Pictures, respectively, did. Although separate from the distribution operations themselves, there was a mutually dependent and reciprocal relationship: the distributors functioned to help keep the exhibition venues supplied with product, while the venues provided exposure for the distributors’ titles and played a vital role in the distributor’s strategy and development. Thus the development of the distributors discussed in this book was also dependent on their positioning in the ‘supply chain’ running between production and exhibition/ consumption. While some of the units of distribution activity in this chain could be located within the distributor or the organisation of which it was a part (as was the case for LFMC, LVA and TOC), others were not. For AVD its particular positioning – a standalone distribution operation with no relationship to a particular exhibition outlet via which to expose its work – meant that when their institutional outlets suddenly declined and sell-through mail order business was insufficient to sustain it, the organisation folded. However, conflict between units in the supply chain also arose and is of course normal in the commercial world, including reciprocal pressure for ‘a better deal’ and the search for alternative suppliers or outlets to secure this. Even in the independent sector, as discussed in Chapter 5, the small budgets of UK hirers forced distributors to keep their prices relatively low. By intervening specifically in the promotion and securing of venues for independent and artists’ work (see Chapters 1 and 4), however, various funders created curatorial or programming initiatives that related primarily to their own mandate to bring the work to the largest possible audience, rather than to considerations of the viability of distributors and the maintenance of their collections. Arts Council sponsored schemes frequently sourced works directly from artists and deployed subsidy to lower prices to venues even further. Thus, while schemes such as Film-Makers and Video Artists on Tour (FMVAoT), regional initiatives like the South West Independent Film Tours, and FVU were all quite successful in delivering works to audiences, the way in which this was achieved meant that success in audience development did not guarantee either continuity of audience growth or even supply to the public. Development of a loyal audience was perhaps necessary to ensure continued funder support for such promotional initiatives, but certainly not sufficient to sustain the long-term availability of the work. In terms of the relationship between units 267

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in the ‘supply chain’, this constitutes the promotional units of activity operating without reference to the needs of collection maintenance. The upshot of this was that to compete, in both providing a service to makers and work to the public, distributors were obliged to pursue similar subsidised promotional strategies. Although, as discussed in Chapter 4, this was not necessarily against their inclination, it placed a similar imbalance between promotional activity and collection maintenance within the distributors. This meant that even their own successful audience development had little direct bearing on distributors’ sustainability, as evidenced in our case study of Cinenova. In practice, as discussed in Chapters 4 and 5, success in audience development resulted in an increase in distribution activity, which then required more subsidy because promotional pricing had not been geared to distribution’s needs. The above analysis can in turn – importantly – facilitate a better understanding of contemporary digital distribution activity. In the age of celluloid, making work available required highly specialist equipment which, in addition to the costs of storing and transporting bulky canisters of reels of film, made it an expensive undertaking. Although video reduced some of these costs and gave rise to a handful of DIY distribution initiatives, it still needed some specialist equipment, together with physical storage and transportation. It has only been with the advent of digital distribution that the costs have fallen dramatically. As noted in our Introduction, anyone with access to a computer and broadband connection can upload digital material to the internet, or copy it to DVD for mailing out by standard letter post. Although such access still varies across the world, it is increasingly a pre-existing given. Hence making moving image work available no longer requires specialist equipment and the costs can be virtually negligible. While the resulting ability to bypass distribution organisations – especially the gatekeeping of commercial distributors – has frequently been noted as the key advantage of this, as a practice this is not particularly new. As already discussed in earlier chapters, organisations like the LFMC, TOC and COW were at one level precisely DIY initiatives which bypassed existing distributors to make a wider variety of work available. Many of the funder-sponsored promotional schemes in turn circumvented the artist run distributors to try and deliver that work to wider audiences. Although digital technology has massively increased the extent to which such circumvention of distributors is possible, in terms of the above analysis, what is significant is the way in which digitalisation solves the problem of collection maintenance. When operating in the digital realm, the resources required to maintain a collection of moving image work are radically diminished – like video it may not be suitable for all exhibition situations, but the internet in particular excels at supporting and maintaining the long-term availability of moving image work.3 What the internet does not do of course is ensure that people watch and engage with the work it makes available. Just as with other forms of media technology – such as satellite television – the internet in itself does little or nothing to ensure viewers necessarily have access to or watch a wider variety of moving image work. However, since it provides an extremely easy and low-cost solution to collection maintenance, it does free up digital makers, distributors and exhibitors of ‘alternative’ work to concentrate on the promotional 268

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units of distribution activity without jeopardising the sustainability of their moving image collections, however large or small those collections may be. While in theory this could make the distribution of ‘alternative’ moving image work far more capable of becoming a self-sustaining activity, it has also allowed promotional pricing to be reduced to zero – an issue we return to below. By contrast, the promotional units of activity themselves have remained remarkably unchanged, with the strategies employed online replicating those discussed in the preceding chapters. For instance, although operating online offers a potential global reach, given the abundance of material on the internet, establishing a presence and identity is still crucial. While this used to be done by sending out a printed catalogue to promote the organisation’s visibility, it is now achieved by ensuring your website appears high in the search engine rankings and enticing users to subscribe to an email list. In the UK, a search on ‘artists film and video’ via Google returns both the main Lux website and its educational sister site, Luxonline, in the top four,4 while a search on ‘women’s film and video’ returns Cinenova in the top two. Promotional activity for ‘alternative’ moving image work in both the analogue and digital eras can also be characterised by the grassroots DIY activism of the filmmakers themselves and their participation in the distribution and exhibition of their own work. In a manner echoing the origins of the LFMC, LVA and COW, for instance, Onlinefilm (http://www. onlinefilm.org/) was set up and is owned by a group of filmmakers. Specialising initially in documentary film, the online site is now branching out into other genres and is intended to allow filmmakers to retain control over their work and how it is distributed, while getting it seen as widely as possible. As with the Co-op, filmmakers set their own prices, while like a number of the distributors in our case studies there is a generous royalty split in favour of the filmmaker.5 Just as the LFMC and LVA sent work to film festivals and co-organised shows, the Onlinefilm site similarly endeavours to maximise exposure by providing access to the work via networks of regional and specialist sub-portals and encouraging links from other sites. And of course, some filmmakers now also upload their work to several online sites, as well as maintaining their own websites, to maximise their own exposure. Indeed, another recent online initiative, VODO (http://vodo.net/), like the distributors studied in this book, operates non-exclusive distribution arrangements precisely to allow artists to distribute their work through other avenues. Similarly, just as LFMC and LVA realised the shortcomings of their non-selective distribution policies and all-inclusive catalogues, and along with others recognised the need to provide a discourse within which to locate the work, digital activists are increasingly recognising the importance of curation and contextualising information to guide viewers through the material available online and encourage them to watch particular content.6 Initiatives such as Reframe (http://www.tribecafilminstitute.org/filmmakers/reframe/) and MUBI (http://mubi.com/) which offer a range of moving image work – including films by Sally Potter, Derek Jarman and Jan Svankmajer – for purchase or hire via download or streaming are increasingly including forums, blogs and user ‘favourites’ lists. While video 269

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sharing websites such as YouTube, Vimeo and Dailymotion all highlight what’s popular, what’s being currently watched, as well as featuring particular videos or offering recommendations based on a user’s viewing history, as a way of promoting particular content, Reframe and MUBI have positioned themselves specifically as promoters of film. While their forums may not replicate the kind of discourse found in the pages of Afterimage, Screen and Undercut, Reframe and MUBI’s use of online tools is nevertheless designed to provide a context within which to understand and appreciate the work they are making available. As Reframe notes: In addition to bringing together works from numerous sources of independent and alternative media … Reframe aims to enrich the experience by offering professional insight and encouraging discussion. We have invited noted directors, professors, critics, film societies and experts in the field to contribute to blogs and make curatorial recommendations.7 Furthermore, it has long been acknowledged in the film industry that ‘word of mouth’ can be central to a film’s success, and it was also a key factor in the wide circulation of the Miners’ Campaign Tapes discussed in Chapter 3. While the workshops and the National Union of Miners utilised leaflets, posters and the union’s paper, The Miner, to publicise the tapes, according to The Videoactive Report 40 per cent of users heard about the tapes by word of mouth.8 Social networking sites (such as Facebook, MySpace and Bebo) have thus been a key development in the digital era since they facilitate extremely extensive (and rapid) online word of mouth – or viral marketing – and a whole raft of makers, distributors and exhibitors have been quick to exploit their potential. A number of younger upcoming moving image practitioners such as M dot Strange, Arin Crumley, Lance Weiler and Jamie King have been experimenting with such avenues, while making their work available on video sharing websites, and in some cases have built up substantial online fanbases for their work. M dot Strange was, for instance, able to utilise his growing worldwide fanbase to get his animated feature-length film We Are The Strange (USA, 2007) translated into 17 languages. Lastly, as noted above, exposure of work to the public via an exhibition venue was an important component in the promotional strategies of distributors like the LFMC, TOC, LVA, COW and Circles. Although video sharing sites make their content freely available to the public, a number of internet initiatives are now specifically presenting themselves as a form of public exhibition space. MUBI for instance calls itself ‘Your online cinema’, refers to films as ‘now playing on MUBI’, and suggests that the way in which the site allows viewers to discuss films with others makes them ‘like a small coffee shop’.9 It thereby likens the experience of MUBI to that of going to watch a film with a group of friends at an arts centre, such as FACT in Liverpool, Quad in Derby, BFI Southbank in London or Watershed in Bristol, and retiring to the café or bar afterwards. Similarly, tank.tv, set up by Tank magazine in 2003, calls itself ‘an online gallery’10 and a ‘showcase’ for artists’ film and video work and stresses its association with real world galleries and arts centres such as the Tate Modern 270

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and London’s Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA). More recently of course YouTube has introduced its Screening Room which is described as ‘[c]onnecting films and audiences in the world’s largest theater’.11 Like MUBI, it endeavours to mimic the cinema experience, partly by foregrounding the superior high quality viewing experience but also by ‘releasing’ four new films every other Friday and noting that ‘the majority of these films have played at international film festivals’.12 Indeed, as existing distributors of artists’ moving image have started to explore online delivery possibilities, they have also started to realise that their websites, originally conceived as information resources to promote their collections, can also function as – in terms of units of distribution activity – their ‘home venue’.13 While the distributors studied for this book met with varying degrees of success, a number of factors – as explored in the preceding chapters – impacted on their effectiveness. The fact that their promotional strategies are being replicated in the digital era, however, suggests the correctness of their ideas and that digital activists are in fact implementing tried and tested approaches to promoting moving image work. What differs is that use of the internet – as Chris Anderson has noted in The Long Tail14 – automatically extends the potential reach of any promotional activity from local to global and increases the speed with which it can take effect. This in turn gives any such activity a greater chance of success, of building ‘the kind of audience which will support a richer and more varied range of films than those which would otherwise find their way onto our screens’.15 As MUBI notes, some films might not fill a single cinema for a week, but ‘if you searched the world (all of it), you might just find an audience of a thousand’.16 But – and it’s a big ‘but’ – there are still some key issues which contemporary digital distribution activity fails to address. For instance, while the internet may indeed have the ability to maintain the long-term availability of digital and digitised work, as we discussed in our Introduction, technology can also prove incredibly unstable, rendering material suddenly unavailable. Not only do websites disappear but digital files can corrupt, and even when analogue material has been digitised organisations like the BFI and the BBC are retaining analogue material as a form of back-up.17 However, perhaps of greater concern is the fact that a huge quantity of moving image work is still only available on celluloid or video, much of which is unlikely ever to be digitised. As discussed in Chapter 3, just as there were fears that the take off of video as a distribution medium would result in a lessening of choice, the massive take-off of digital distribution similarly threatens to marginalise such work. Indeed, its availability will continue to depend precisely on the existence of traditional distributors and their ability to maintain their collections. But in recent years distributors such as BFI Publishing and Criterion have started doing DVD releases of artists’ moving image work, for instance, that was originated on film and video and is still distributed in its original format by organisations such as the Lux in the UK and the New York Film-Makers’ Co-op and Canyon Cinema in the USA.18 Reviews in journals like Cineaste and Vertigo and references on discussion lists like Frameworks have by and large been very enthusiastic about these releases because they make older experimental film and video work far more easily available. Similarly this work 271

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is also increasingly available on the internet – Sally Potter’s Play (UK 1970), for instance, is available on both MUBI and Reframe, while still available for hire from the Lux in its original two-screen 16mm format. However, echoing the historical activity discussed in this book, the migration of digital versions of such work to alternative suppliers can have a significant impact on the distributors of the original works. According to Paul Arthur,19 the Criterion release in the USA of Stan Brakhage’s work – which has proved very popular – resulted in a huge drop in 16mm hires of his work from the Film-Makers’ Cooperative in New York.20 If a significant part of the core business of distributors like the Lux and the New York Co-op is eroded by alternative digital suppliers, such organisations may struggle to survive, rendering the less popular work very difficult to access. This concern has been compounded by the uploading – both with and without the makers’ consent – of work to online sites such as UbuWeb and YouTube which make it freely available. While it’s possible to argue that such online availability can motivate viewers to seek out ‘real world’ screenings of the work in their original formats and explore other related work, US distributor Canyon Cinema has reported that the free online availability of some of their titles through UbuWeb impacted negatively on educational film hires.21 As discussed in Chapter 5, other factors can also contribute to such a decline, and the existence of multiple suppliers – non-exclusive distribution – for the same work inevitably limits any single distributor’s potential to generate income from it. However, as the LFMC found with the Film-Makers on Tour scheme (as discussed in Chapter 1) and both the LFMC and LVA found with the FVU (as discussed in Chapter 4), when alternative suppliers can reduce pricing – in this case to zero – it encourages the circumvention of traditional distributors and undermines their ability to maintain their collections. Indeed, the above-mentioned VODO, founded by Jamie King, is an initiative which may go some way to addressing this problem. Set up in late 2009, it exploits peer to peer distribution networks to make work available on a free-to-share basis, but offers downloaders the opportunity to become sponsors of their ‘releases’ in return for a variety of incentives – such as credits in a future production or a downloadable soundtrack.22 Like the distributors studied in this book, VODO aims to return as much of its income as possible to its producers. Information on its website suggests that it has been relatively successful in generating such sponsorship income for certain titles and may thus function to a lesser degree to undermine other distributors operating a conventional hire and sale pricing model.23 A less obvious issue is that conducting the promotional units of activity online can still be enormously time-consuming – involving updating web pages, creating and checking links, maintaining blogs and social networking pages, participating in discussion lists, doing email newsletters and so on.24 While some digital activists and filmmakers – like the founding members of the LFMC, LVA, Circles and other organisations – subsidise the cost through their own volunteer labour and support in kind, others and initiatives such as Onlinefilm, Reframe and MUBI are looking to translate their online initiatives into earned income – to ‘monetise’ them – to cover such costs. This not only suggests there is a finite supply of volunteer labour, but has also created a mixed economy, whereby some sites 272

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operate via a ‘gift economy’ (as is the case with UbuWeb), others seek to sell advertising ‘space’ or attract commercial sponsorship (as with many video sharing websites), while still others operate like a traditional distributor charging the user to rent or purchase the work (like Onlinefilm, MUBI and Reframe) or explore other avenues for generating income (like VODO). Although this sometimes means the same work is available both for free and purchase online, and compounds the problems of multiple supply points,25 it also means that – just as for organisations discussed in this book – the promotional activity, its visibility and scope is still shaped to a large degree by the way in which it is supported.26 Finally, it is possible to argue that despite all the advantages offered by the online world, real world exposure is still vital. Even though theatrical exhibition can be a loss-making activity, as discussed in Chapter 2, the real world media and editorial coverage it attracts still achieves an extremely high degree of visibility for the films.27 Although the makers of Age of Stupid (Franny Armstrong, UK, 2008), the crowd-funded film about climate change, have made the film available online, in order to raise awareness about the film’s subject matter they felt real world visibility was crucially important and arranged simultaneous theatrical screenings across the UK, and later across the globe.28 Similarly, as noted above, although some moving image artists are uploading their work to multiple online sites, they are still choosing to make their work available through traditional distributors like the Lux as well in order to benefit from real world screenings.29 Indeed, the possibilities offered by the internet have precisely triggered a concern among arts producers, curators and funders with understanding and exploring the existing and potential relationships between online and building-based activity.30 Also, in some cases, online ‘hits’ have been picked up for coverage in the ‘real world’ mass media – as was the case with Charlie bit my finger – again! This 55 second clip of baby Charlie biting his three year old brother Harry’s finger was made in the UK and originally uploaded to YouTube by the children’s parents in order to share it with their Godparents who live in the USA (http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM). In March 2008, the clip had had so many hits and spawned so many copies and homages, that the family were invited to appear on the UK’s Richard and Judy national television show. By August 2008, at 44 million views, it was reported on a regional television news programme as being the most watched video on YouTube ever.31 The visibility and awareness that real world screenings and media attention provide are also important in the longer term. At the time of writing (July 2010), the BFI have launched a campaign to save Hitchcock’s nine surviving silent films and are identifying them as an important part of British cinema history. When funding for preservation is scarce – and the BFI campaign is asking for donations from the public – resources will tend to ‘favor established criteria of worth’.32 The public screening of work in the real world, and the way in which that creates visibility, wider interest and critical debate, plays a key role in enabling moving image work to accumulate the ‘value’ which is used to justify preservation costs. This returns us again to the importance of collection maintenance to ensure that as wide a range of work as possible remains available for public screening.

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Thus, to return to the point we made in our Introduction, despite the perceived benefits of the ‘digital revolution’ for moving image distribution – and there certainly are very clear benefits – many of the issues governing the diversity of the film culture that we as audiences experience remain the same. And the ‘valid and vital film culture’ envisaged by Vincent Porter will still have to be fought for, just as it has been in the past. Notes   1. Vincent Porter, Acting Head of Distribution, BFI, ‘BFI Exhibition Policy: Films and Critical Concepts’, April 1986, p. 1. Source: British Film Institute Archive (Library, Box 32, Distribution Division 1980–1987).   2. Since losing its revenue funding in 2000, Cinenova has continued to exist by maintaining a lowcost office space, generating a modest level of earned income and using volunteer labour. See http://www.cinenova.org.uk/ (accessed 12 July 2010).   3. This also connects with Chris Anderson’s analysis of how online niche markets become viable in The Long Tail: How Endless Choice is Creating Unlimited Demand (London: Random House 2006).  4. Top of the list is the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection’s site at http://www. studycollection.co.uk/ (accessed 13 July 2010).   5. 51 per cent of the income from sales goes to the filmmaker. See Project ONLINEFILM at http:// www.onlinefilm.org/-/projekte (accessed 12 July 2010).   6. Indeed at the 2009 Power to the Pixel conference, keynote speaker and independent film producer Ted Hope discussed his vision for how filmmakers in the digital era could engage with cinema at all levels. Echoing the initiatives of distributors like LFMC, LVA, COW and Circles, he stressed the need to ‘furnish study notes and moderate discussions’ to develop audience engagement with cinema. Ted Hope, ‘Take Back What has Always Been Yours’, Keynote Address, Power to the Pixel, National Film Theatre, London, 21 October 2009. Transcript available at http://powertothepixel. com/news/take-back-what-has-always-been-yours (accessed 14 July 2010).  7.  ‘About Reframe’ originally at http://reframecollection.org/company/about (accessed 14 July 2010), now located at http://www.tribecafilminstitute.org/reframe/about/ (accessed 1 February 2011).   8. Jon Dovey and Jo Dungey, The Videoactive Report (London: Videoactive, 1985): 6.2.11.   9. ‘About’ at http://mubi.com/about (accessed 14 July 2010). 10. ‘About’ at tank.tv at http://www.tank.tv/about.php (accessed 13 July 2010). 11. ‘The YouTube Screening Room’ at http://www.youtube.com/user/ytscreeningroom (accessed 13 July 2010). 12. Ibid. 13. Representatives from Lux and the US distributor Electronic Arts Intermix highlighted this at the Recycled Film Symposium held at Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle, 12 March 2010. 14. Anderson, The Long Tail, 2006, op. cit. 15. Porter, ‘BFI Exhibition Policy’, 1986, op. cit. 16. ‘About’, MUBI, op. cit. 17. See for instance, Pat Brereton, ‘Conference Review – MIT6 Conference, Stone and Papyrus: Storage and transmission, 24–26 April 2009, Boston, USA’, Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 16(2), May 2010: 245–52. 274

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18. BFI Publishing have now released several DVDs in its Artists’ Film and Video series. The William Raban DVD, for instance, includes three films that are also distributed by the Lux in their original format: Thames Film (1986) on 16mm, A13 (1994) on video, and MM (2002) on 16mm and video. 19. Paul Arthur, ‘Unseen No More? The Avant-Garde on DVD’, Cineaste (Winter 2006): 6–13. 20. See also Dominic Angerame, Canyon Cinema, in interview with Peter Thomas, 6 August 2003. 21. Canyon reported this on the Frameworks discussion list during June 2008. 22. The invitation to ‘sponsor’ filmmakers also of course echoes The Other Cinema’s attempts to get people to buy shares in film prints (see Chapter 2). 23. See http://vodo.net/faq (accessed 11 January 2011). Research on P2P distribution also suggests that filesharers are more inclined than conventional consumers to spend money on related products. See for instance, Marc Stumpel, ‘File-sharing or attention-sharing? Implications of the hybrid economy’, paper presented at Besides the Screen, Goldsmiths University of London, 20 November 2010. 24. In this connection it is worth noting that VODO, according to the information on its website, ‘was produced by conjunction with Channel 4 British Documentary Film Foundation, with the support of Arts Council UK and Emerald Fund’ (our italics). 25. For instance, in the UK it is possible to watch Potter’s above-mentioned Play for free on MUBI, while it would cost $4.99 to rent from Reframe in the USA. 26. It’s also worth noting that based on anecdotal evidence the ability to ‘monetise’ the distribution of alternative moving image work online has so far proved highly variable. Also, contrary to Chris Anderson’s assertion in The Longer Long Tail (London: Random House, 2009) that for producers, distributing via the online Long Tail markets tends to be largely uneconomic (p. 254), some filmmakers who have presented at the Power to the Pixel conferences have reported sizeable levels of income from participating in such markets (see http://www.powertothepixel.com/). Conversely, at the Doing Women’s Film’s History conference (University of Sunderland, 13–15 April 2011), keynote speaker Debra Zimmerman of the US distributor Women Make Movies (WMM) reported that the income generated by distributing titles via iTunes is ‘a drop in the bucket of what we normally get from educational distribution’. 27. Tom Abell, founder of lesbian and gay distributor PPR, has also observed that the publicity campaigns around their cinema releases produces a noticeable increase in their website traffic. In interview with Julia Knight, 7 March 2005. 28. See Spanner Films, The Age of Stupid at http://www.ageofstupid.net/ (accessed 15 July 2010). 29. For instance, Vicki Bennett (aka People Like Us) and Ryan Trecartin have made their work available via UbuWeb and YouTube while also being in distribution with the Lux and Electronic Arts Intermix respectively. 30. See, for instance, Tom Fleming, Crossing Boundaries: The Role of Cross-Art-Form and Media Venues in the Age of ‘clicks’ not ‘bricks’ (UK Film Council/Arts Council England/Arts and Humanities Research Council, January 2008); and ‘Clicks or Mortar?’ Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle, 6 March 2009 at http://www.thepixelpalace.org/clicksormortar (accessed 11 March 2009). 31. The family appearing on the Richard and Judy show is available at http://uk.youtube.com/wat ch?v=kV8PbItDFS4&feature=channel and the regional news item at http://uk.youtube.com/ watch?v=Ml81bkC_ANg&feature=channel (both accessed 15 July 2010). By January 2009 the original Charlie bit my finger clip was showing over 75 million hits, rising to over 200 million by July 2010. 32. Christine Gledhill, ‘Introduction: Transnationalizing Women’s Film History’, Framework: The Journal of Cinema and Media, 51(2), Fall 2010: 279. Gledhill is referencing an argument made by Drake Stutesman. 275

Appendix Research Sources

T

he archives, records or document collections of the organisations listed below were consulted in the course of the research informing this book. The American organisations were consulted for the purposes of comparison and to help us understand the specificity of the UK situation: Arts Council of Great Britain/England, held at the Victoria and Albert Museum (London), covering the abolition of the Greater London Council (GLC), video access libraries (VALs), the Artists’ Film & Video Committee (AFVC), the Advisory Panel Film, Video and Broadcasting (APFVB), the Film-Makers and Video Artists on Tour scheme (FMVAoT), Film and Video Umbrella (FVU), London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC), London Film & Video Development Agency (LFVDA), London Video Access (LVA), the Modular scheme, New Activities Committee (NAC), Artists’ Film & Video Committee Questionnaire, The Other Cinema (TOC) and Greater London Arts Association (GLAA). (catalogue series: ACGB/7, 8, 13, 33, 35, 54, 55, 56, 58, 111) British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection (London), covering London Film-Makers’ Co-op, London Video Access, the Joint Funders Strategy Group and the Boyden Southwood Report. The collection also holds a large number of catalogues and publications, together with collections of papers donated by David Curtis, Mike Leggett, Malcolm Le Grice, Peter Mudie, William Raban and others. British Film Institute, held at their National Archive (Berkhamsted), including Directorate, Library, and Production Department Files, covering Glenbuck Films Ltd, Planning, Distribution Division, Information Division, Funding and Development, Connoisseur Video and Channel 4/ independents. (catalogue series: Library boxes 32, 34; Directorate boxes D27, D34, D40, D41, D50, D63, D71; Miscellaneous box 11; Northchurch boxes N/73) Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, covering London Film-Makers’ Co-operative and London Video Access Canyon Cinema (San Francisco), own records Cinenova (London), own records, together with surviving Circles and Cinema of Women document archives Film and Video Umbrella (London), own records Film London (London), for surviving London Film & Video Development Agency records, covering Cinenova, LFMC-LEA merger, the Lux, the BFI, the Lottery and the London Arts Board 279

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Film-Makers’ Cooperative (New York), own records Independent Film-Makers’ Association, archived records held at Adsetts Centre, Sheffield Hallam University Lux (London), own records, together with surviving LFMC and LVA document archives REWIND, at www.rewind.ac.uk, covering the early history of British video art The Other Cinema (London), surviving document archive Women Make Movies (New York), own records In addition, the following people kindly gave us access to their own collected papers: David Critchley Tony Dowmunt Alan Fountain David Hall Judith Higginbottom Laura Hudson Julia Knight Mike Leggett (papers subsequently deposited with the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection) Steve Littman Michael Maziere Eileen McNulty Peter Mudie (papers subsequently deposited with the British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection) Stephen Partridge Jim Pines Duncan Reekie Chris Rodrigues Philip Sanderson MM Serra Guy Sherwin Felicity Sparrow Anna Thew Margaret Trotter Sarah Turner Marion Urch Mark Webber Recorded formal research interviews were conducted during 2003–06 with those listed below for their involvement with the organisations that form the focus of this book and/ or the wider UK independent film and video sector, with the exception of a small number 280

Appendix: Research Sources

who work for North American organisations. Although for the most part, the American interviews are not directly drawn upon in the book, they were conducted to help us understand the specificity of the UK situation: Tom Abell, founder of Dangerous to Know and Peccadillo Pictures Ltd Dominic Angerame, Executive Director, Canyon Cinema (USA) George Barber, video artist Eddie Berg, founder of Video Positive festival, former Director of FACT Liverpool Simon Blanchard, former national organiser of the Independent Film-Makers’ Association Steven Bode, Director, Film and Video Umbrella Elaine Burrows, Management Committee member of Circles and Cinenova Ian Christie, former Regional Programme Adviser in the Film Availability Service and Head of Distribution, British Film Institute Ben Cook, Director, Lux David Critchley, video artist, LVA co-founder and former LVA Administrator David Curtis, former LFMC Cinema organiser and former Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain/Arts Council England Larry Daressa, California Newsreel (USA) Helen de Witt, former Cinenova worker Tony Dowmunt, community video activist and former Albany Video worker Deb Ely, former assistant Director, Bristol Arts Centre and former Assistant Director/ Director, Watershed Media Centre, Bristol Andi Engel, former Politkino organiser, former The Other Cinema Council of Management member and co-founder of Artificial Eye Sonali Fernando, filmmaker Terry Flaxton, video artist Alan Fountain, former East Midlands Film Officer, former Independent Film-Makers’ Association member, former BFI Production Board and former Commissioning Editor, Independent Film & Video Department, Channel 4 Chris Garratt, filmmaker Peter Gidal, filmmaker and former LFMC Cinema worker and former Independent FilmMakers’ Association member Clive Gillman, video artist, former technical manager for Video Positive and co-founder of FACT Liverpool David Hall, video artist and co-founder of LVA Sue Hall, community video activist and co-founder of Fantasy Factory Sylvia Harvey, former member of both the Independent Film-Makers’ Association and Sheffield Independent Film Emma Hedditch, Cinenova volunteer and worker Gill Henderson, former Circles/Cinenova worker and former Chief Executive of London Film & Video Development Agency 281

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Judith Higginbottom, filmmaker, former Exeter Film Workshop member and former South West Arts Film Officer John Hopkins, community video activist and co-founder of IRAT and Fantasy Factory Laura Hudson, co-founder of Exploding Cinema, former LFMC Cinema worker and former Cinenova worker Mick Kidd, former LFMC Distribution worker Edith Kramer, Pacific Film Archive (USA) Mike Leggett, film and video artist and former Independent Film-Makers’ Association member Steve Littman, video artist Abina Manning, former LFMC Administrator and former Cinema of Women and LEA Distribution worker Paul Marris, former The Other Cinema worker, former Independent Film-Makers’ Association member and former Film & Video Officer, Greater London Council Murray Martin, co-founder of Amber Films, former Independent Film-Makers’ Association and National Organisation of Workshops member Michael Maziere, filmmaker and video artist, former LFMC Cinema worker, former LVA Distribution and Marketing Manager, former Director of LEA and the Lux (Hoxton Square) Eileen McNulty, former Cinema of Women worker John Mhiripiri, Board of Directors, Anthology Film Archives (USA) Laura Mulvey, filmmaker, former The Other Cinema Council of Management member and former Independent Film-Makers’ Association member Kate Norrish, former LVA Distribution and Cinenova worker Jim Pines, former Regional Officer, Funding and Development, British Film Institute Mike O’Pray, former Editor of Undercut and former programmer of Film and Video Umbrella Stephen Partridge, video artist and co-founder of LVA Jane Parish, former LVA Distribution worker Lucy Reynolds, former Lux worker and content manager of LuxOnline Lis Rhodes, filmmaker, former LFMC Cinema worker, Circles co-founder and former member of the Four Corners collective Chris Rodrigues, former South West Arts Film Officer Peter Sainsbury, Chair of the LFMC executive committee, former The Other Cinema worker and former Head of the BFI Production Board Philip Sanderson, filmmaker, Chair of the LFMC executive committee and former LFMC Administrator Erich Sargeant, former Acting Head of Content, British Film Institute MM Serra, Executive Director, The Film-Makers’ Cooperative (USA) Guy Sherwin, filmmaker and former LFMC Workshop worker Felicity Sparrow, former LFMC Distribution worker, co-founder of Circles and former Film & Video Officer at Greater London Arts 282

Appendix: Research Sources

Rod Stoneman, former Assistant and Deputy Commissioning Editor, Independent Film & Video Department, Channel 4 Mike Stubbs, video artist Anna Thew, filmmaker and former LFMC Distribution worker John Thompson, former LFMC Cinema worker and Electronic Arts Intermix (USA) Albie Thoms, filmmaker and co-founder of UBU Films Margaret Trotter, former Management Committee member of Circles and Cinenova Sarah Turner, filmmaker, former Circles and LFMC Distribution worker Marion Urch, former LVA Distribution worker Mark Webber, former Lux worker, freelance curator Sandy Weiland, former LFMC Administrator Jeremy Welsh, video artist, former LVA Exhibition worker and former video programmer for Film and Video Umbrella Irene Whitehead, former Distribution officer, Funding and Development officer, Head of Planning and Head of Cinema Services and Development, British Film Institute John Wyver, TV producer, co-founder of Illuminations Debra Zimmerman, Executive Director, Women Make Movies (USA) Additional informal phone and email interviews or discussions were conducted during 2003–06 with: Liane Harris, former Circles and Cinenova worker Sophie Howarth, former Education programmer, Tate Modern Duncan Reekie, filmmaker and co-founder of Exploding Cinema Guy Sherwin, filmmaker and former LFMC Workshop worker Caroline Smith, former Film and Video Umbrella Administrator Mike Sperlinger, Assistant Director, Lux Geoff Stow, former Albany Video worker Jennet Thomas, filmmaker and co-founder of Exploding Cinema Paul Tarragó, filmmaker and former Exploding Cinema member Stefan Szczelkun, filmmaker, academic and former Exploding Cinema member A recorded round table discussion was also held at the University of Luton in September 2004 with the following: Karen Alexander, videomaker and former Distribution officer, British Film Institute Ian Christie, former Head of Distribution, British Film Institute David Curtis, former LFMC Cinema worker and former Film Officer, Arts Council of Great Britain/Arts Council England Helen de Witt, former Cinenova worker Gill Henderson, former Circles and Cinenova worker and former Chief Executive, London Film & Video Development Agency 283

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Julia Knight, University of Luton, research project Principal Investigator, former Albany Video Distribution worker and former Cinenova Management Committee member (currently University of Sunderland) Paul Marris, former The Other Cinema worker, former Independent Film-Makers’ Association member and former Film & Video Officer, Greater London Council Michael Maziere, filmmaker and video artist, former LFMC Cinema worker, former LVA Distribution and Marketing worker and former Director of LEA and the Lux (Hoxton Square) Steve McIntyre, former Funding and Development officer, British Film Institute, and former Chief Executive, London Film & Video Development Agency Geoffrey Nowell-Smith, University of Luton, research project Co-Investigator and former Head of Education and Head of Publishing, British Film Institute (currently Queen Mary, University of London) Felicity Sparrow, former LFMC Distribution worker, co-founder of Circles and former Film & Video Officer at Greater London Arts Gary Thomas, former Film & Video Officer, Arts Council England Peter Thomas, University of Luton, research project Post-Doctoral Research Fellow (Exploding Cinema member)

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Select Bibliography Victoria D. Alexander, ‘State Support of Artists: The Case of the United Kingdom in a New Labour Environment and Beyond’, Journal of Arts Management, Law and Society, 37(3) Fall 2007: 185–200. Chris Anderson, The Long Tail: How Endless Choice is Creating Unlimited Demand (London: Random House, 2006), updated as The Longer Long Tail (London: Random House, 2009). Chris Atton, Alternative Media (London: Sage, 2002). Chris Atton, ‘News Cultures and New Social Movements: Radical Journalism and the Mainstream Media’, Journalism Studies 3(4) 2002: 491–505. Chris Atton, An Alternative Internet: Radical Media, Politics and Creativity (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2004). Pat Aufderheide, ‘The Changing Documentary Marketplace’, Cineaste, Summer 2005: 24–28. Martyn Auty and Nick Roddick (eds.), British Cinema Now (BFI: London, 1985). Lee Baupré, ‘How to Distribute a Film’ in Paul Kerr (ed.), The Hollywood Film Industry (London: BFI, 1986), pp. 185–203. Antony Beck, ‘The Impact of Thatcherism on the Arts Council’, Parliamentary Affairs, 42(3), July 1989: 362–79. E.K. Berry, ‘The Local Government Act 1985 and the Archive Services of the Greater London Council and Metropolitan County Councils’, Journal of the Society of Archivists, 9(3), July 1988: 119–47. Peter Biskind, Down and Dirty Pictures: Miramax, Sundance & the Rise of Independent Film (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2004). Simon Blanchard, Film and Video Exhibition and Distribution in London: A Report to the GLC (London: GLC. 1983). Simon Blanchard and Sylvia Harvey, ‘The Post-War Independent Cinema – Structure and Organisation’ in James Curran and Vincent Porter (eds.), British Cinema History (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1983). David Bordwell and Kristin Thompson, Film Art: An Introduction (Boston et al: McGraw-Hill, 2010). Boyden Southwood/Comedia, ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’, October 1989. Pat Brereton, ‘Conference Review – MIT6 Conference, Stone and Papyrus: Storage and Transmission, 24–26 April 2009, Boston, USA’, Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 16(2), May 2010: 245–52. British Artists’ Film and Video Study Collection, Aural History, at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/ auralhistory/intro.htm (accessed 14 July 2009). Charlotte Brunsdon (ed.), Films for Women (London: BFI, 1986). Jean Burgess and Joshua Green, YouTube: Online Video and Participatory Culture (Cambridge: Polity, 2009).

Reaching Audiences

Fiona Carson and Claire Pajaczkowska (eds.), Feminist Visual Culture (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2000). J.A. Chandler, Public Policy-Making for Local Government (London: Croom Helm, 1988). Cineaste, ‘The Political Documentary in America Today: Commentary by Distributors, Exhibitors, Filmmakers and Scholars’, Cineaste (Summer 2005): 29–36. Kate Coyer, Tony Dowmunt and Alan Fountain (eds.), The Alternative Media Handbook (London & New York: Routledge, 2007). Sean Cubitt, Time Shift: On Video Culture (London & New York: Routledge, 1991). Sean Cubitt, Videography: Video Media as Art and Culture (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1993). Nigel Culkin and Keith Randle, ‘Digital Cinema: Opportunities and Challenges’, Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 9(4), Winter 2003: 79–98. David Curtis, ‘English Avant-Garde Film: An Early Chronology’ in Michael O’Pray (ed.) The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926 to 1995 (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey/Arts Council of England, 1996), pp. 101–19. David Curtis, A History of Artists’ Film and Video in Britain (London: BFI, 2007). David Curtis, in interview with Michael Maziere, undated, available at http://www.arts.ac.uk/ research/filmcentre/maziere/interviews/Curtis.html (accessed 11 March 2009). Nina Danino and Michael Maziere (eds.), The Undercut Reader (London & New York: Wallflower Press, 2003). Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999). Margaret Dickinson and Sylvia Harvey, ‘Film Policy in the United Kingdom: New Labour at the Movies’, Political Quarterly, 76(3), July 2005: 420–29. Tony Dowmunt (ed.), Channels of Resistance: Global Television and Local Empowerment (London: BFI/Channel 4, 1993). Philip Drake, ‘Distribution and Marketing in Contemporary Hollywood’ in Janet Wasko and Paul McDonald (eds.), The Contemporary Hollywood Film Industry (Oxford and New York: Blackwell, 2008), pp. 63–82. Stephen Dwoskin, Film Is … The International Free Cinema (London: Peter Owen, 1975). Catherine Elwes, Video Art, A Guided Tour (London & New York: IB Tauris, 2005). Exploding Cinema, ‘From the Circus to the Office: The Days of the London Film Underground 1966– 70’ (undated) at http://www.explodingcinema.org/underground.html (accessed 13 March 2009). Angus Finney, The Egos Have Landed: The Rise and Fall of Palace Pictures (London: William Heinemann 1996). Tom Fleming, Crossing Boundaries: The Role of Cross-Art-Form and Media Venues in the Age of ‘clicks’ not ‘bricks’ (UK Film Council/Arts Council England/Arts and Humanities Research Council, January 2008). N. Flynn, S. Leach and C. Vielba, Abolition or Reform? The GLC and the Metropolitan County Councils (London: Allen and Unwin, 1985). A. Forrester, S. Lansley and R. Pauley, Beyond our Ken: A Guide to the Battle for London (London: Fourth Estate, 1985). Alan Fountain, Workshop Policies in the 1990s: A Discussion Document (London: Channel 4, April 1989). Alan Fountain, ‘Alternative Film, Video and Television 1965–2005’ in Kate Coyer, Tony Dowmunt and Alan Fountain (eds.), The Alternative Media Handbook (London & New York: Routledge, 2007), pp. 29–46. Glasgow University Media Group, Bad News (London, Boston & Henley: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1976). 286

Select Bibliography

Glasgow University Media Group, More Bad News (London, Boston & Henley: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1980). Glasgow University Media Group, Really Bad News (Writers and Readers Co-operative, 1982). Christine Gledhill (ed.), ‘Dossier: Transnationalizing Women’s Film History’, Framework: The Journal of Cinema and Media, 51(2), Fall 2010: 273–357. Douglas Gomery, Shared Pleasures: A History of Movie Presentation in the United States (London: BFI, 1992). Peter S. Grant and Chris Wood, Blockbusters and Trade Wars: Popular Culture in a Globalized World (Vancouver: Douglas & McIntyre Ltd, 2004). Greater London Council, London Industrial Strategy: The Cultural Industries (n.d). Jonathon Green, Days in the Life: Voices from the English Underground 1961–1971 (London: Pimlico, 1988). Nicky Hamlyn, Film Art Phenomena (London: BFI, 2003). Ina Rae Hark (ed.) The Film Exhibition Reader (London & New York: Routledge, 2002). Sylvia Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema – A History: Part I, 1970–77’, Screen, 26(6), November 1985: 40–57. Sylvia Harvey, ‘The Other Cinema – A History: Part II, 1978–1985’, Screen, 27(2), March 1986: 80–93. Sylvia Harvey, ‘The “Other Cinema” in Britain: Unfinished Business in Oppositional and Independent Film, 1929–84’ in Charles Barr (ed.) All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years of British Cinema (London: BFI, 1986), pp. 225–51. Jackie Hatfield (ed.) Experimental Film and Video (London: John Libbey, 2006). Jim Haynes, ‘Newsletter 1’, 28 October 1969, at http://www.jim-haynes.com/letters/index.htm (accessed 10 July 2010). Jim Haynes, Thanks for Coming! An Autobiography (London: Faber & Faber, 1984). Jan-Christopher Horak, ‘The Gap Between 1 and 0: Digital Video and the Omissions of Film History’, Spectator 27(1), special issue on Media Access: Preservation and Access, Spring 2007: 29–41. Christopher T. Husbands, ‘Attitudes to Local Government in London: Evidence from Opinion Surveys and the GLC By-Elections of 20 September 1984’, London Journal, 11(1), Summer 1985: 59–74. Krishan Arora and Justin Lewis, Off the Shelf: A Video Marketing Workbook (IFVA/London Strategic Policy Unit, 1987). IFA, ‘Channel Four and Innovation – The Foundation’, (London: IFA, February 1980). Jo Imeson, ‘Women’s Film Now’ Monthly Film Bulletin, 49(583), 1982: 184. Dina Iordanova with Ragan Rhyne (eds.), Film Festival Yearbook 1: The Festival Circuit (St Andrews Film Studies with College Gate Press, 2009). Dina Iordanova with Ruby Cheung (eds.), Film Festival Yearbook 2: Film Festivals and Imagined Communities (St Andrews Film Studies, 2010). David E. James, ‘For a Working Class Television: The Miners’ Campaign Tape Project’ in David James, Power Misses: Essays Across (Un)Popular Culture (London & New York: Verso, 1996), pp. 248–65; also available at http://strikingdistance.com/sd9705/c3i.3/james/miner01.html (accessed 24 March 2006). Adriane Jenik, ‘Distribution Matters – “What Does She Want?”’, Screen, 28(4), Autumn 1987: 70–72. Paul Kerr (ed.), The Hollywood Film Industry (London: BFI, 1986). Julia Knight, ‘Cinenova: A Sign of the Times’, Screen, 33(2), Summer 1992: 184–89. Julia Knight (ed.), Diverse Practices: A Critical Reader on British Video Art (Luton: University of Luton Press/John Libbey Media/ACGB, 1996). Julia Knight, ‘Video’ in Fiona Carson and Claire Pajaczkowska (eds.), Feminist Visual Culture (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2000).

287

Reaching Audiences

Julia Knight, ‘Materials, Materials, Materials: Questions of Technology and History’ in Nina Danino and Michael Maziere (eds.), The Undercut Reader – Critical Writings on Artists’ Film and Video (London: Wallflower Press, 2003). Julia Knight, ‘Agency vs Archive: London Film-Makers’ Co-op and LVA vs Film and Video Umbrella’, Screen, 47(4), Winter 2006: 469–75. Julia Knight, ‘DVD, Video and Reaching Audiences: Experiments in Moving Image Distribution’, Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 13(1), February 2007: 19–42. Julia Knight, ‘Re-store, Re-mix, Re-play: Moving Image Culture in the Digital Era’, Vertigo, 3(8), Spring 2008: 46–47. Julia Knight, ‘The “Alternative” End of Marketing: Building Audiences for Artists’/Community Film and Video Since 1980’, Historical Journal of Film, Radio and Television, 29(4), December 2009: 449–65. Julia Knight and Peter Thomas, ‘Distribution and the Question of Diversity: A Case Study of Cinenova’, Screen 49(3), Autumn 2008: 354–65. Annette Kuhn, ‘A Journey Through Memory’ in Susannah Radstone (ed.) Memory and Methodology (Oxford and New York: Berg, 2000), pp. 179–98. Steve Leach and Chris Game, ‘English Metropolitan Government Since Abolition: An Evaluation of the Abolition of the English Metropolitan County Councils’, Public Administration, 69(2), June 1991: 141–70. Malcolm Le Grice, ‘A Reflection on the History of the London Film-Makers’ Co-op’, in Margaret Dickinson (ed.), Rogue Reels: Oppositional Film in Britain, 1945–90 (London: BFI, 1999). Malcolm Le Grice, Experimental Cinema in the Digital Age (London: BFI, 2001). Malcolm Le Grice, in interview with Michael Maziere, undated, available at http://www.study collection.co.uk/maziere/interviews/LeGrice.html (accessed 11 March 2009). Mike Leggett, ‘The London Film-Makers’ Co-op’ in Hilary Thompson and Rod Stoneman (eds.), The New Social Function of Cinema: Catalogue of British Film Institute Productions 1987–80 (London: BFI, 1980). Martin Lucas and Martha Wallner, ‘Resistance by Satellite’ in Tony Dowmunt (ed.), Channels of Resistance: Global Television and Local Empowerment (London: BFI/Channel 4, 1993), pp. 176–94. Tiiu Lukk, Movie Marketing: Opening the Picture and Giving it Legs (Beverly Hills: Silman-James Press, 1997). Scott MacDonald, Cinema 16: Documents Toward a History of the Film Society (Wide Angle, 2002). Scott MacDonald (ed.) A Critical Cinema 4: Interviews with Independent Filmmakers (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005). Scott MacDonald, Canyon Cinema: The Life and Times of an Independent Film Distributor (Berkeley, Los Angeles & London: University of California Press, 2008). Paul McDonald and Janet Wasko (eds.), The Contemporary Hollywood Film Industry (Oxford and New York: Blackwell, 2008). Chris Meigh-Andrews, Mapping the Image, PhD thesis, Royal College of Art, May 2001. Chris Meigh-Andrews, A History of Video Art: The Development of Form and Function (Oxford and New York: Berg, 2006). Jonas Mekas (ed.) New American Cinema Group and Film-Makers’ Cooperative(s): The Early Years. Documents, Memos, Articles, Bulletins, Photos, Letters, Newspaper Clippings, etc. (New York: Anthology Film Archives, 1999). Xavier Mendik and Steven Jay Schneider (eds.), Underground USA: Filmmaking Beyond the Hollywood Canon (London and New York: Wallflower Press/Columbia University Press, 2002). 288

Select Bibliography

Caroline Merz and Pratibha Parmar, ‘Distribution Matters – Circles’, Screen, 28(4), Autumn 1987: 66–69. Barry Miles, In the Sixties (London: Jonathan Cape, 2002). Steve Neale and Murray Smith (eds.), Contemporary Hollywood Cinema (London and New York: Routledge. 1998). Jeff Nuttall, Bomb Culture (London: MacGibbon and Kee, 1968). Michael O’Pray (ed.) The British Avant-Garde Film: 1926 to 1995 (Luton: University of Luton Press/ John Libbey/Arts Council of England, 1996). Julian Petley, ‘The Video Image’, Sight & Sound, Winter 1989–90: 24–27. Jim Pines and Paul Willemen (eds.), Questions of Third Cinema (London: BFI, 1989). Nigel Power and Justin Lewis (with Simon Blanchard and Alison Butler) Twenty Years On: A Review of the Independent Film and Video Sector in London (London: IFVPA, 1987). Duncan Reekie, Subversion: The Definitive History of Underground Cinema (London: Wallflower Press, 2007). A.L. Rees, A History of Experimental Film and Video (London: BFI, 1998). Jane Root, ‘Distributing “A Question of Silence”’, Screen, 26(6), November 1985: 58–64. Jonathan Rosenbaum, Movie Wars: How Hollywood and the Media Limit What Films We Can See (London: Wallflower Press, 2000). Jess Search and Melissa McCarthy (eds.), Get Your Documentary Funded and Distributed (London: Shooting People, 2005). Tom Shone, Blockbuster: How Hollywood Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Summer (London: Simon & Schuster, 2004). Pelle Snickars and Patrick Vonderau (eds.), The YouTube Reader (Stockholm: National Library of Sweden, 2009). Jason E. Squire, The Movie Business Book (Maidenhead: Open University Press/McGraw Hill, 2006). Jack Stevenson, ‘Film Co-ops: Old Soldiers from the Sixties still Standing in Battle against Hollywood Commercialism’ in Xavier Mendik and Steven Jay Schneider (eds.), Underground USA: Filmmaking Beyond the Hollywood Canon (London and New York: Wallflower Press/Columbia University Press 2002), pp. 180–87. Rod Stoneman, Independent Film Workshops in Britain 1979 (Torquay: Grael Communications, 1979). Rod Stoneman and Hilary Thompson (eds.), The New Social Function of Cinema. Catalogue: British Film Institute Productions ’79/80 (London: British Film Institute, 1981). Studio International, 190(978), November 1975, special issue on ‘Avant-Garde Film in England and Europe’. Studio International, 191(981), May/June 1976, special issue on ‘Video Art’. Archie Tait, ‘Distributing the Product’ in Martyn Auty and Nick Roddick (eds.), British Cinema Now (BFI: London, 1985), pp. 71–82. Peter Thomas, ‘Flourishing Inside a Bastardism: The Significance of Textual Miscegenation in PostClassical Hollywood’, PhD Thesis, Griffith University Australia, 2001. Peter Thomas, ‘Distribution and Curation: On not Becoming Confused’, 2005; available at http://altfv-distribution.net/distribution.pdf (accessed 7 August 2010). Peter Thomas, ‘The Struggle for Funding: Sponsorship, Competition and Pacification’, Screen, 47(4), Winter 2006: 461–67. Toby Travers, ‘London after Abolition’, Local Government Studies, 16(3), May 1990: 105–16. Marijke de Valck, Film Festivals: From European Geopolitics to Global Cinephilia (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2007).

289

Reaching Audiences

John A. Walker, Arts TV: A History of Arts Television in Britain (London: John Libbey, 1993). Mitzi Waltz, Alternative and Activist Media (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2005). Graham Wade, Street Video: An Account of Five Video Groups (Leicester: Blackthorn Press, 1980). James I. Walsh, ‘When Do Ideas Matter?: Explaining the Successes and Failures of Thatcherite Ideas’, Comparative Political Studies, 33(4), May 2000: 483–516. Mark Webber, ‘Chronology of Events and Developments 1966–76’, Shoot Shoot Shoot broadsheet (London: Lux, 2002). Richard Wilding, Supporting the Arts: A Review of the Structure of Arts Funding, October 1989. Rodney Wilson, Perspectives on British Avant-Garde Film, Hayward Gallery, 2 March 24 April 1977 (London: Hayward Gallery/Arts Council of Great Britain, 1977). Louise Witt, ‘Outfoxed: A Unique Sleeper Hit’, Wired News (23 July 2004) at http://www.wired.com/ entertainment/music/news/2004/07/64312 (accessed 20 July 2010). Richard Witts, Artist Unknown: An Alternative History of the Arts Council (London: Little, Brown & Co, 1998). Justin Wyatt, ‘The Formation of the “major independent”: Miramax, New Line and the New Hollywood’ in Steve Neale and Murray Smith (eds.), Contemporary Hollywood Cinema (London & New York: Routledge, 1998), pp. 74–90. Robert K. Yin, Case Study Research: Design and Methods (3rd edition; Thousand Oaks, London & New Delhi: Sage Publications, 2003). Michael Zryd, ‘The Academy and the Avant-Garde: A Relationship of Dependence and Resistance’, Cinema Journal, 45(2), Winter 2006: 17–42.

Websites (All URLs were correct as on 12 January 2011) Arts on Film Archive at http://artsonfilm.wmin.ac.uk/ BFI National Film Archive at http://www.bfi.org.uk/nationalarchive/ BFI Publishing at http://filmstore.bfi.org.uk/?q=shop.html BFI YouTube channel at http://www.youtube.com/BFIfilms British Artists’ Film & Video Study Collection at http://www.studycollection.co.uk/ Cinema16 at http://www.cinema16.org/home.php Criterion at http://www.criterion.com/ Dailymotion at http://www.dailymotion.com/gb Digimart: The International Digital Cinema Market at http://www.digimart.org/en/index.php# Europa Cinemas at http://www.europa-cinemas.org/en/ Exploding Cinema at http://www.explodingcinema.org/ Film & Video Distribution Database at http://fv-distribution-database.ac.uk/ FrameWorks – Experimental Film Discussion List at http://mailman-mail5.webfaction.com/listinfo/ frameworks Glasgow University Media Group at http://www.glasgowmediagroup.org/ Imperial War Museum YouTube channel at http://www.youtube.com/user/imperialwarmuseum Independent Cinema Office at http://www.independentcinemaoffice.org.uk/ Independent Film and Video Distribution in the UK at http://www.alt-fv-distribution.net Internet Archive at http://www.archive.org/ 290

Select Bibliography

Journal of Short Film at http://thejsf.org/ Light Cone at http://www.lightcone.org/ LoveFilm at http://www.lovefilm.com/ Lux at http://www.lux.org.uk/ LuxOnline at http://www.luxonline.org.uk/ MUBI at http://mubi.com/ Netflix at http://www.netflix.com/ NewsFilm Online at http://www.nfo.ac.uk/ North West Film Archive at http://www.nwfa.mmu.ac.uk/ Onlinefilm.org at http://www.onlinefilm.org Peripheral Produce at http://www.peripheralproduce.com/ Power to the Pixel at http://www.powertothepixel.com/ Prelinger Archives at http://www.prelinger.com/ Red Avocado at http://www.redavocadofilm.com/ Re:frame at http://www.tribecafilminstitute.org/filmmakers/reframe/ Rewind at http://www.rewind.ac.uk/ Screen Heritage UK at http://www.bfi.org.uk/about/policy/screen-heritage.html?q=screenheritage Second Run at http://www.secondrundvd.com/ SideTV at http://www.sidetv.net/ The Pirate Bay at http://thepiratebay.org/ UbuWeb at http://www.ubu.com/ Vimeo at http://vimeo.com/ VODO at http://vodo.net/ YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/

291

Index 16mm, see film Abolition, GLC and MCCs 220–3 replacement money 188, 218, 220–1, 225–6 see also devolution; Greater London Council; reattribution exercises accessibility 139–40 16mm and obsolescent technology and distributors and internet and 268–9 video and Acme Gallery 105, 107, 161 activism 20, 40, 42, 45–6, 51, 54–5, 57, 102, 114, 152, 217, 245, 269, 272 ‘activist,’ use of term 30 Afterimage (journal) 146, 270 AIR Gallery 105, 147, 149, 266 see London Video Arts Albany Video Albany Video Distribution 19, 20, 108–9, 111, 229 ALCARAF (All Lewisham Campaign Against Racism and Fascism) tape 109 VET, merger with 189 ‘Alchemists of the Surreal ‘(FVU tour) 158–9 Algar, Nigel 22, 89, 217 ‘alternative,’ use of term 30 Amber Film Collective 16, 20, 112, 210, 247 Side TV 16 ‘American Video’ (ACGB tour) 148–9 Anderson, Chris 271 Anne Devlin (Pat Murphy, Eire, 1984) 90–1, 210 archives 16, 17, 23 see also British Film Institute National Archive; Prelinger Archives

Arena (BBC, 1976) 115 Arnolfini Gallery 51, 108 art form, film and video as 160–1 art galleries, film and video in 160–2 artist-run organisations 21, 42–3, 140, 205, 265, 268–9 see also collectives and co-operatives, and volunteerism Artists’ Council 46 ‘artists’ film and video,’ use of term 30 see also Arts Council of Great Britain ‘Artists Video – An Alternative Use of the Medium’ (Washington, UK) 107 Arts Council England 219 Arts Council of England 242, 244–5 Lottery funding 195, 240, 243 Recovery Programme 243–4 Arts Council of Great Britain 20, 39, 44–8, 51, 108, 116–117, 119, 124, 167, 169, 190, 203, 217–219, 221, 226, 229, 231 Art Film Committee, 48 Artists’ Films Sub-Committee, Artists’ Films Committee, Artists’ Film and Video Committee, Artists’ Film and Video SubCommittee, 48, 51–2, 53–5, 56–7, 104, 105, 114–5, 141, 160 and Channel 4 120, 124 and COW 88–9 and LFMC 44–7 and LVA 167–8 Animateur scheme 156–7 Filmmakers and Video Artists on Tour  Scheme 52–3, 55, 64 n117 & n121, 141, 144, 151, 156, 163, 272 Modular Scheme, 55, 148, 152–156 ‘American Video’ (tour) 148–9 ‘British Video’ (tour) 148–9, 157

Reaching Audiences

see also Circles, ‘Her Image Fades as Her  Voice Rises’ & ‘Maya Deren: A Programme of Films Representing Her Work’ video access libraries 110 see also Film and Video Umbrella Great Britain Touring Fund 161, 218 government funding to 217 Incentive Funding 119, 218, 226 New Activities Committee 45–6 reattribution exercises 220–1, 242–3 regionalisation 218 Glory of the Garden, The 218, 222–3, 245 Arts Lab Drury Lane 41, 44–5, 46 film processing, at 41 Robert Street, see Institute for Research in Art and Technology Arts on Film Archive 17, 33 Ashbrooke, Penny (Cinema of Women) 88 Association of Black Workshops (ABW) 225 Association of Cinematograph Television and allied Technicians (ACTT) 112, 115 Astor, Michael 45, 46 Atlas Films 15 Attenborough, Richard 48, 107, 121 Attenborough Committee (Arts Council Film Committee of Enquiry) 48 Atton, Chris 30 Aufderheide, Pat 18 avant-garde film 51, 53, 55, 65, 123 Aylett, Holly 18–19 Barber, George 111, 122, 246 Battle of Algiers, The (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966) 74, 76, 91 see also The Other Cinema Battle of Lewisham, The, see Albany Video, ALCARAF BBC2 114 Berwick Street Collective 20, 151 Better Books 40–2, 57 n2, 146, 247 Biddick Farm Art Centre 51 BitTorrent sites 16 ‘Black Women and Invisibility’ (Circles tour) 203 Blanchard, Simon (IFA) 66, 83–4, 200 Bloch, Peter 51 Bloor, Tony 84 Bode, Stephen (FVU) 115, 149–50, 162, 264 Born in Flames (Lizzie Borden, 1983) 88, 93

Boyden, Peter 241 Boyden-Southwood Report 188–90, 194, 197, 198, 218–9, 222, 225–30, 235, 237, 241–3, 252 see also Joint Funders’ Strategy Group Brakhage, Stan 43, 54, 190, 195, 197, 272 Breer, Robert 157 British Council 53 British Film Institute (BFI) 16, 39, 44, 47–9, 56, 75, 104, 107, 111, 117, 159, 162, 166, 188–9, 191, 196, 198, 203, 217–8, 223, 228, 231, 234, 239, 241–2, 273 and Arts Council 48, 56, 159–60, 220–1, 223, 231, 243 BFI Publishing 16 BFI Southbank 270 and Cinenova 194–5, 196–7, 199–200 and Circles 189, 195, 221, 223, 225 and COW 194 defunding 189, 199 funding 88–9 diktats 189, 198–9, 232, 234–5 Distribution 113, 159, 164, 192 BFI Video Publishing 123 Connoisseur Video 107, 111, 121 Exhibition Policy 92 and Film and Video Umbrella 159–60, 162, 164 Film Availability Service (FAS) 89, 92, 144 Regional Programming Unit 159 and Film Council 220, 241–3 Funding and Development Department 221, 223–5, 228–9 reattribution exercise 225 and Glenbuck 113, 194–5, 228 government funding to 217–8, 220, 224, 228–9, 239–40, 242, 245–6 Incentive Funding 218, 224 and LFMC 47–9, 50, 234–5 and Lux leadership in 231–40 rent guarantee 232, 234, 236, 238–243 withdrawal 241–3 National Film Theatre 43–4, 72 and The Other Cinema 78–9 Production Board 48–9, 50, 217 Group Support Fund 48 Publishing 16, 271 Regional Department 50 and video 107 see also Regional Film Theatres 294

Index

‘British Video’ (ACGB modular tour) 148–9, 157 broadcast, see television Brown, Wendy 107 Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation 116–7, 217 Camden Council 46–8, 50, 223 Canyon Cinema 271–272 case studies 24, 26–7 catalogues, see Distribution, Catalogues Chanan, Michael 125 Channel 4 26, 35, 39, 102, 113–26, 154, 166, 217, 226, 275 and Arts Council 120 and availability 123 purchasing 116–17, 193 remit 115 withdrawal from funding 188 ‘Channel 5’ (exhibition) 149, see also LVA ‘Channel 6’ (exhibition) 149, see also LVA Christie, Ian (BFI) 14, 89, 112–3, 191–2 Cinema Action 20, 115, 123, 125, 221 see also So That You Can Live Cinema of Women (COW) 19, 22, 114, 123, 187– 207, 217, 221–222, 226, 246, 265–6, 268–9 acquisitions, financing of 88–9 feedback 85–6 funders, relationships with 199 funding cuts 189 institutional funding 88–9 merger with Circles 198–9, 225, 227–8 non-theatrical market 85 origins and development 84–8 promotional strategies 84–8 sales to Channel 4 116 scope of market 85 sustainability 187–8 theatrical releases 88–92 see also Anne Devlin; Born in Flames;  Leila and the Wolves; The Power of Men; A Question of Silence Cinenova 21, 187–207, 225, 227–8, 265–6 commercial viability 191–6 effects of changing market 201–5 funding 195–6, 206–7 BFI 196–7 LFVDA 200 defunding 190–1, 205, 219 funders, relationships with 198–201 ideology 205–7

income generation 195 loss of COW catalogue 199–200 ‘New Wave Women’ (tour) 203 origins 189–90 outsourcing dispatch 194–5, 227–8 under-resourcing 196–7, 204 Cinim 146 Circles 19, 39, 92, 109–10, 116, 152–6, 187–207, 217, 221, 222–3, 226, 265–7, 272 aims and remit 153–4 and Film and Video Umbrella 163 funding 154 funding cuts 189 funders, relationships with 198–9 merger with COW 198–9, 225, 227–8 origins and development 152–4 relationship with Cinema of Women (COW) 199 sustainability 187–8 tours 154–6 ‘Black Women and Invisibility’ 203 ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’   154–5, 203 ‘Maya Deren: A Programme of Films   Representing Her Work’ 155–6 City Limits 162 Clayton, Sue 152 Coalition for Cultural Diversity 18, 84–93 Cobbing, Bob 40–1, 43, 63 n107 collectives and co-operatives 19–20, 30, 42–3, 55, 88, 118–9, 140, 194, 205, 233 funder hostility to 80, 227, 235 volunteerism in 39, 88, 205, 235 see also Cinema of Women, Circles, London Film-Makers’ Co-operative, London Video Arts and The Other Cinema Community 29, 125, 188, 269 Film 16mm, as social medium 124–5 see also Amber Film Collective; Berwick  Street Collective; Cinema Action; Four Corners Video 102, 105, 107–8, 117, 127 see also Albany Video, TVX competition 30, 163–5, 167, 267–8 Connoisseur Video, see British Film Institute Consultancies 118, as enabling documents 222, 224–5, 240–2 see also Boyden-Southwood Report; London Video Access, management review. 295

Reaching Audiences

Cook, Benjamin (Lux) 264 copyright agreements 120 Council of Regional Arts Associations (CoRAA) 223–4 Creative Commons copyright licence 16 Creative Film Society 43 Critchley, David (LVA) 104, 116–7, 144 Criterion 271–272 critical attention, focus 13 ‘Cubism and the Cinema’ (tour) 157 Cultural Industries 9, 14, 107, 222 Unit, Greater London Enterprise Board 15 Curtis, David 22 ACGB 51–4, 120, 123–4, 156, 157, 217 LFMC 40–1, 43–4, 47–8 DailyMotion 270 ‘Dance Film Dance‘ (FVU tour) 164 de Witt, Helen (Cinenova) 21, 41, 47, 52–53, 190, 194, 196, 199–200 Department of Culture Media and Sport (DCMS) 219, 240 Department of National Heritage (DNH) 239–40 Deren, Maya 153, 152–6, 201, 203 see also ‘Maya Deren: A Programme of Films Representing Her Work’ ‘Developing the Independent Film and Video Sector’ see Boyden-Southwood Report devolution 219, 222–3, 225, 232, 237, 242, 248 see also Abolition; Glory of the Garden; reattribution exercises Dickinson, Margaret 29, 30, 74, 115 Digimart 15 digital distribution 15, 19, 268 exhibition spaces 270 interests and aims 27 mixed economy 272–3 see also internet digital revolution 17–18 digital technology 162 DIY distribution 22 scope and potential 17–19 see also internet digitisation 17–8 Diorama project 229 debate-based film culture 87–8, 124–5, 150 distribution and availability of work 112–13, 271–2

catalogues 75, 104–5, 109, 149–150, 154, 171, 173, 175, 199, 232 contextualising films 145 importance of 169 for promotion 140, 142–3, 145 online 190 circumventing 268 collections gaps in 141 maintenance of 265, 273 see also Cinenova; Circles, Cinema of  Women; London Film-Makers Co-op; London Video Arts; The Other Cinema digital, see digital distribution dispatch, contracting out 194–5, 227–8 see also Cinenova, Cinema of Women;  Glenbuck DVD, see DVD educational market, see separate entry film, see separate entry independent 19–21, 28–30 key role of 14–15, 263 policy open 40–43, 105, 117, 140, 142–4, 146–7,   161, 169–170 promotional 139–169 selective 148 potential of 190 scholarly attention 13–14 staff 39, 50–1, 56–7, 149, 154, 227, 233–4, 240 experience 67 n155, 189, 196–7, 199 pay-rates 81, 187, 196 working hours 194, 196–7 subsidised 264 supply chain, in 139 television, see separate entry units of activity 266–8 video, see separate entr women’s, see Cinema of Women; Cinenova; Circles; feminist film and video distribution; women’s film/video distribution; DIY 26, 42, 44, 46, 47, 49–50, 51, 54–5, 57, 111, 268 Donebauer, Peter 114 Dowmunt, Tony (Albany Video) 30–1 Dulac, Germaine 153 Durgnat, Ray 40 Dusinberre, Deke (LFMC) 53–4, 143 DVD 268, 271 296

Index

consumer response to 123 niche labels 16 Dwoskin, Steve 40 East Midlands Arts 217 EDGE 88 161 Edinburgh Film Festival 44, 50–1, 54, 74, 84–5 Éditions à Voir 122, 182 educational market 26, 44, 53, 86, 101, 106, 121, 151, 154, 157, 191, 202, 229, 272, 275 ‘Electric Eyes’ (FVU tour) 161 11th Hour 115, 120, 132 Elliot, Leslie 74, 76 Elwes, Cate 31, 202 Entering (Peter Donebauer, 1974) 114 Erdal, Ivar 24 Espace Vidéo Européen (EVE) 122 European Regional Development Fund (ERDF) 195, 239–240 Exeter Film Workshop 155 exhibition spaces 266, 270 Expanded Cinema Festivals 51 Experimenta 120 Exposure conference 161 Facebook 270 Fantasy Factory 223, 226, 229–30, 248 Federation of Workers’ Film Societies 15 ‘Feminism and Cinema’ 84–5 feminist film and video distribution 84–85, 153–155, 203 theatrical 85, 89–91 Field, Simon 52, 72, 146, 156 film 16mm distribution 112–3, 121, 123–5, 141, 190, 203, 272 preservation, of film stock 273 print scarcity 43, 52, 55, 79, 89, 101, 103,   105, 144, 163, 165, 178 n145 and video cassettes 112–3 non-theatrical 72, 75, 85, 91–92, 102, 107 theatrical, 16, 26, 72, 88, 92, 116, 190, 199 see also Anne Devlin; Born in Flames; The  Battle of Algiers; Leila and the Wolves; A Question of Silence; Riddles of the Sphinx Film and Video Distribution Database (FVDD) 28 Filmmakers and Video Artists on Tour Scheme, see Arts Council of Great Britain

Film and Video Umbrella 19, 20, 34, 55, 115, 156–69, 233, 244, 246, 264–7 and Arts Council 157, 161–4, 166–8 as best model 166–9 subsidy for programmes 163–4 and BFI 159–60, 162, 164 and Circles 163 conflict with distributors 163–5, 167 expansion 161 finances 163–4 flexibility 159–60 funding 159, 161–2, 163–4, 168 income 166 limits to activity 160 and London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) 164–5 and London Video Arts (LVA) 167 origins 148, 156–7, 161 tours 157–9 ‘Alchemists of the Surreal’ 158–9 ‘Dance Film Dance‘ 164 ‘Electric Eyes’ 161 ‘Hold Me While I’m Naked’ 159 ‘Metaphors, Monologues and Landscapes’  165 ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’ 160 ‘Suitcase Show, The’ 161 ‘Film as Film’ (exhibition) 152–3 Film Council 219, 241–3 film culture, diversity of 92 film societies 72, 102 Film-Makers’ Cooperative, New York (FMC) 40, 271–2 Film London 245 Finch, David (LFMC) 143 Finney, Albert 72, 76 First Festival of British Independent Film 49, 51–2, 104, 151, 246 Foundation for Sport and the Arts 232 Fountain, Alan 29, 116, 217 Four Corners 154–5, 221, 223, 266–7 Friends of the Arts Council – Operative (FACOP) 45–6, 48 Funders 20, 27, 240, 264–5 European 122, 195 European Regional Development Fund (see separate entry) funding cuts 27, 162, 190, 198, 205, 219, 221, 223 297

Reaching Audiences

funding dependency 26–7, 39, 56, 221, 226, 237 local 154, 217–8, 222–3, 230 Camden Council, see separate entry Greater London Council, see separate entry London Borough Grants Scheme (LBGS),   see separate entry Tower Hamlets, see separate entry national Arts Council England, see separate entry Arts Council of England, see separate entry Arts Council of Great Britain, see separate  entry British Council, see separate entry British Film Institute, see separate entry policy 60, 105, 218–9, 246, 265 regional 217 Arts Council London, see separate entry East Midlands Arts, see separate entry Film London, see separate entry Greater London Arts, see separate entry London Arts Board, see separate entry London Film and Video Development  Agency, see separate entry Regional Arts Associations, see separate  entry Regional Arts Boards, see separate entry South West Arts, see separate entry see also devolution, see separate entry ‘Future Videotape Distribution’ report 105 gallery/museum market 121, 160–1, 167, 266 ‘Genlock’ (LVA tour) 149, 162, 181 n200 Ghosts in the Machine (John Wyver, 1986) 115, 118, 123 gift economy 273 Glasgow University Media Group 112 Glasshouse Investments 237 see also Lux Centre Glenbuck Films Ltd 113, 194–5, 199, 228 see also Harris Films Global Digital Distribution Summit 15 Godard, Jean-Luc 73–5 Gorris, Marleen 88–9, 91, 93, 114 see also A Question of Silence Government Conservative 220, 222–3 rate-capping 222–3 see also Abolition

Labour Comprehensive Spending Review 219, 241 Local 154, 217–8, 222–3, 230 funding 217–18 reports Bigger Picture: the Report of the Film Policy   Review Group, A 241 Supporting Excellence in the Arts: From   Measurement to Judgement 219 Supporting the Arts: A Review of the   Structure of Arts Funding 218, 222   See also Wilding Review grassroots, see community Grayson, Sue 51 Greater London Arts 22, 51, 80, 104, 117, 166, 188, 218, 221, 225–6, 248 and LVA 118 Greater London Authority (GLA) 221 Greater London Council (GLC) 14–15, 22, 81, 88, 104, 107, 113–4, 117, 188, 202, 206, 217–8, 221–3 see also Abolition; devolution; reattribution   exercises Greater London Enterprise Board (GLEB) 15, 107, 110–11, 222 see also Cultural Industries Greatest Hits of Scratch Video 111 Greenwald, Robert 17–8 ‘growth-shrink’ cycle 194 Gulbenkian Foundation, see Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation Gulf Crisis TV Project 18 Guy, Alice 153–4 Hall, David 51, 101, 104, 114, 117, 123, 170 Hall, Sue 102–3, 105, 108–9, 229 Harris Films 113 see also Glenbuck Hart-Williams, Nick (TOC) 73–5, 76, 77–8 Hartog, Simon 40, 42, 43, 44, 72 Harvey, Sylvia 19–20, 41, 114 Haynes, Jim 39, 41, 44–5 Hayward Gallery 53, 65, 114, 152–3 Henderson, Gill (LFVDA) 220, 247 ‘Her Image Fades as Her Voice Rises’ (Circles tour) 154–5, 203 Herbert, Victor 47 Heslop, Tom (LFMC) 165, 264 Hewitt, Peter (ACE) 243 298

Index

Higginbottom, Judith 155–6, 201, 217 historical research methods 24 history, documenting 22–3 HMV 121 Hoey, Brian 107 ‘Hold Me While I’m Naked’ (FVU tour) 159 Hood, Stuart 51 Hopkins, John ‘Hoppy’ 39, 46, 102–3, 105, 108–9, 114, 146, 229 Hudson, Laura (Cinenova) 202–3

Joint Funders Strategy Group (JFSG) 188–9, 208, 218, 222, 225, 234

ideology 205–7 inclusivity 139–43, 152, 269 income generation 187, 190, 193–4, 195 Independent Cinema Office (ICO) 14 Independent Cinema West (ICW) 49, 51, 217 Independent Film and Video Department, Channel 4 115 Independent Film- and Video-Makers’ Association (IFVA) 107 and Channel 4 115 Independent Film-Makers’ Association (IFA) 15, 20, 29, 41, 49, 51, 66 n140, 84 Independent Film, Video and Photography Association (IFVPA) 200, 225–6, 252 independent film movement, origins 19 ‘independent,’ use of term 29, 49 Independent Video 146, 149, 162, 174 individuals, importance of 263–4 Institute for Research in Art and Technology (IRAT) 46–7 46, 60 n67, 247 Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) 41, 51, 71–73, 108, 168, 188, 190, 195, 271 conference 1969 71–2 video library 108 institutional markets 109, 192, 267 integrated practice 55. 228 International Times, The (IT) 39–40, 41, 45, 47, 146 Internet 16–17 effects on distribution 15, 268–9 instability of 271 Reframe, 17 see also digital distribution; digital technology Internet Archive 15, 17, 19 internet TV 16 Isaacs, Jeremy (Channel 4) 35

Le Fevre, Lisa 124 Le Grice, Malcolm (LFMC) 30, 41–2, 46–7, 49, 217 Leece, Mary Pat (LFMC) 51 Leeds Animation Workshop 21 Leggett, Mike (LFMC) 47, 54–5, 83, 125, 145, 150–2 Leila and the Wolves (Heiny Srour, 1984) 217 lesbian and gay market 111–12, 202 Liberation Films 20 Liss, Carla (LFMC) 43, 47, 63 n107 Locations Edinburgh project 114 London Arts Board (LAB) 226, 242, 244–5 London Borough Grants Scheme (LBGS) 166, 188, 220–1, 223 London Electronic Arts (LEA) 19, 30, 122, 240–1, 247 sell-through 121–3 see also Video Burn; Éditions à Voir see also London Video Arts (LVA); London Video Access (LVA); Lux Centre. London Film and Video Development Agency (LFVDA) 200, 206, 220, 225–6, 231–47 and Cinenova 200 lack of support 226 London Film Festival 165, 233 London Film-Makers’ Co-op (LFMC) 15, 19, 20, 22 29, 39–57, 44, 101, 139–152, 157, 163, 167, 169, 171, 173, 198, 217, 221–2, 226, 228–247, 264–9, 272 Administrator 233 Annual General Meetings 165, 233 Cinema 41, 144, 234 Organiser 233 Cinema Committee (1991) 233 Distribution 43–4, 47, 53–4, 140, 164–5, 190–1, 193 acquisitions 140

Jarman, Derek 158–9, 192, 269 Jettisoundz 111, 121

Keiller, Patrick (LFMC) 160 Kidd, Mick (LFMC) 143 Kidel, Mark 115 Kirkhope, Tony (TOC) 81, 191, 238 Knight, Julia 22, 25 Kötting, Andrew 160, 246 Kuchar, George 159

299

Reaching Audiences

catalogues 41, 43, 50, 52, 140, 142–3, 232  see also Distribution, catalogues film rentals 43, 164 policy 165, 191, 232–3 resources centre 145 Executive 232–6 Extraordinary General Meetings 233–4, 237 and Film and Video Umbrella 163–5, 167 and Film-Makers on Tour scheme (FMOT) 52–4 founding principles 42–3, 139–40 loss of 55 funding: Arts Council 44–7 British Film Institute (BFI) 47–9, 50, 234–5   Group Support Fund 48 private donations 47 membership 59, 60, 62, 233 merger with LEA 240–1 origins 39–43, 146 premises 47, 49, 50–1, 55–6, 234–7 Better Books 40–1 Fitzroy Road (Piano Factory) 49–51 Gloucester Avenue 52–4, 55–6 Institute for Research into Art and   Technology (IRAT) 46 Lux Centre (see separate entry) Prince of Wales Crescent (Dairy) 47–9 professionalisation 49–50, 234–5 rent crises 55–6, 233 volunteerism 42–3, 47, 234–6 decline of 49–50, 54–7, 145 Working Party 145, 150 see also Lux Centre London Funders Group 166 London Video Access (LVA) 116–7, 174 n76, 221– 2, 230, 232, 234, 272 catalogues 140, 175 n 91 and Film and Video Umbrella 163–5, 167–170 ‘Genlock’ (tour) 149, 162, 181 n200 internal disagreements 117–18 management review (Comedia) 118, 121, 189, 190, 196, 226, 235 marketing 118–19, 121, 194 policy two-tier distribution model 148–9 sell-through 121–3, 182 n216 see also Video Burn television 119

Three Year Plan 119 see also London Electronic Arts (LEA); London Video Arts (LVA) London Video Arts (LVA) 20, 29, 102–6, 133 n127, 139–152, 157, 263–7, 269 and AIR Gallery 147 audience development 107–8 and Channel 4 116–17 catalogue 140, 142 founding principles 139–40 fund-raising 104–5 funding 116–18, 119, 148 identity shift 117–18 origins 104 premises 105, 147 policy openness 146–7, 169 promotion 147–9, 169 see also London Electronic Arts (LEA), London Video Access (LVA) London Women’s Film Group 20 LoveFilm 15, 123 Lucas, Martin 18 Luce, Richard 223–4, 230 Luton 33 Video 224 Lux (II) 236, 245, 264 Lux Centre 19, 30, 122, 217–247, 264–5, 273 business plans 241 Cinema 234, 244, 246 collapse 236, 243–5 contingency funding 241–2 funding, structure of 232, 237, 239, 241–2 ACE 241–2, 245   Lottery 239–40, 245    Recovery 243–4 BFI   leadership in 231–40   rent guarantee 232, 234, 236, 238–243   withdrawal 241–3 ERDF 239–40 Foundation for Sport and the Arts 232 Government Office of London (GOL)  239–40 Hackney City Challenge 237 LAB 242, 244–5 landlord 232, 234, 237–8 insolvency 243–5 leases 234, 238–40, 244–5 liquidation 245 300

Index

merger 240–3 origins 219, 221, 230–1, 234 Dunn & Co. 234, 236–7 Grand Union House 231, 237 Hoxton Square 232, 237, 239–40 Saffron Hill 234, 237 overview and evaluation 244–7 see also London Film-Makers’ Co-op; London Electronic Arts, National Centre for Film, Video and Digital Art M dot Strange 270 mail order, see video Maitland-Carter, Kathleen (LFMC) 233 market sectors 266 marketing 118–9, 121, 168, 188, 190, 194, 227 markets, changing 201–5 Marris, Paul (TOC) 22, 82, 217 Marshall, Stuart 148–9, 157 Martin, Murray (Amber) 112, 210 Matusow, Harvey (LFMC) 40–1 ‘Maya Deren: A Programme of Films Representing Her Work’ (Circles tour) 155–6 Maziere, Michael 25 LVA 119, 121, 168, 194, Lux Centre 242–3 McIntyre, Steve (LFVDA) 228, 232, 239 McNulty, Eileen (COW) 85, 90, 91, 92, 199 media centres 228, 237, 241 Regional Consultative Committee (RCC) Working Party on Media Centres 228–9 Media Development Agencies 218, 234 see also London Film and Video Development Agency media technologies, appeal of 15 Mekas, Jonas 40, 43–4, 143 mergers , see Cinenova, Circles; Cinema of Women; London Electronic Arts; London FilmMakers’ Co-operative; Lux ‘Metaphors, Monologues and Landscapes’ (FVU tour) 165 Metropolitan County Councils (MCCs) 217–218, 220, 222–223 Midland Group 108 Midnight Underground 124 Miners’ Campaign Tapes 112, 270 mixed economy model 189, 195, 225–30, 272–3 moving image / moving image art 18, 52, 263, 270–1

MUBI 15, 269–270, 272–3 multiple-case study approach 24 Mulvey, Laura 29, 82, 151 Myles, Linda 74 Nam June Paik 21–2 NATFHE, East Midlands Women’s Rights Panel 87 National Artists’ Assembly 45–6 National Centre for Film, Video and Digital Art 240–2 see also Lux Centre National Film Theatre, see British Film Institute Netflix 15, 123 networking, in promotion and access 18 New American Cinema 43, 44, 66 n107 New American Cinema Exposition 43, 72 new media art 162 ‘New Wave Women’ (Cinenova tour) 203 New York Film-Makers’ Cooperative, see FilmMakers’ Cooperative Newsreel Collective 20 niche markets 111 Nicholson, Annabel 153–4, 233 Norrish, Kate (Cinenova) 25, 193 Nowell-Smith, Geoffrey 25 ‘Observatory, The’ (videotheque) 161 Obsessive Becoming (Daniel Reeves, 1995) 125 Office of Arts and Libraries (OAL) 218, 224, 231, 237 online access, limits of 17 Onlinefilm 269, 272–3 O’Pray, Michael (FVU) 22, 140, 149, 156, 158–160, 162–4, 166 Other Cinema, The (TOC) 19, 22, 29, 71–88, 91–3, 110, 146, 217, 222, 265–8, 275 attracting audiences 81–8 distribution library 74–5 Edinburgh Film Festival. 74 financial resources 76–81 fundraising 77–8 income 75–6, 78, 190 lack of expertise 80 Latin American film 75 non-theatrical market 84 organisation 80 origins 73 premises 73, 74, 75–8, 79 301

Reaching Audiences

programming policy 81–2, 83 talks and discussions 87–8 theatrical market 73–8, 81–4 see also The Battle for Algiers; Riddles of the  Sphinx venues Charlotte Street 81–8, 92, 214, 246, 267 Collegiate Theatre 76–7 King’s Cross Odeon 74–6 Metro Cinema 190–1, 267 The Place 73, 75 video loan 110 Ottinger, Ulrike 202 outside parties, links with 266–7 Palace Pictures 22 Parallel Cinema 73 see also The Other Cinema Paris Pullman 75, 89 Parish, Jane (LVA) 117, 147, 150, 263 Partridge, Stephen (LVA) 104, 117, 140, 146 Passing, The (Bill Viola, 1991) 122 ‘Perspective on English Avant-Garde Film, A’ (ACGB tour) 53–4, 157 ‘Perspectives on British Avant-Garde Film’ (exhibition) 53, 65, 102, 114 Petley, Julian 107 Pilling, Jane 159 Plaschkes, Otto 72, 76 Politkino 75 Porter, Vincent (BFI) 92, 263, 274 Powell, David (LFVDA) 231–2 Power to the Pixel conferences 15, 275 Prelinger Archives 17 Prelinger, Rick 17 promotion 71–93, 139–69, 195, 265, 268 and digital distribution 268–71 catalogues as 140, 142–3 inclusivity as 139–43 need for strategies 143–6 overview 139 time factors 272 touring initiatives 146–52 units of activity 269 public lending libraries 109–10 publications, importance of 145–6 publicity 144, 158–9 word of mouth 270

Question of Silence, A (Marleen Gorris, Netherlands, 1982) 89–9, 91, 93, 114, 203 reattribution exercises 220–2, 241 abolition of the GLC and MCCs 188, 220–1 creation of the UK Film Council see also Abolition, devolution, Greater London Council and UK Film Council ‘Recent British Super 8 Film’ (FVU tour) 160 recruitment and retention 196, 197 Reekie, Duncan 233 Rees, A.L. 157 Reframe 17, 269, 272–3 Regional Arts Associations (RAAs) 217–8, 224, 228–231 see also East Midlands Arts; Greater London Arts; South West Arts Regional Arts Boards (RABs) 217–8, 230 see also London Arts Board Regional Arts Councils 219 regional exhibition outlets 72–3 Regional Film Theatres (RFTs) 75, 89, 91, 158–160, 162, 203 remixing 16–17 repertory cinemas 91 research methods 24 analytical approach 26 interviews 25 limitations 27–8 planning 25 resources 24–5 research questions 24, 26 retrospectives 151–2 Rhodes, Lis 152–4 Riddles of the Sphinx (Laura Mulvey and Peter Wollen, 1977) 82–3 Ridley, Anna 104, 115, 132 Rittner, Luke (ACGB) 221 Root, Jane (COW) 22, 88, 90, 92–3 royalties 80, 89, 140, 143, 190, split 56, 63 n107, 77, 191, 193–4, 269 Rubin, Barbara 40, 58 Sainsbury, Peter 22, 59 n38, 72, 146, 217 BFI Production Board 22, 49 The Other Cinema 22, 72–3, 75, 83, 146 Sankofa Film and Video 21, 247 Sargeant, Erich (BFI) 16 302

Index

Scala theatre 77–8 ‘Scanners’ (exhibition) 149 Scollay, Clive 51 Scottish Arts Council, Locations Edinburgh project 114 scratch video 111, 160 Screen 83, 146, 270 Second Run DVD 16 selection 140–1, 152 self-sustainability 187–90 sell-through 122–3, 266 semi-theatrical market 123, 182, 192, 267 Serpentine Gallery 51, 103–4 Sherwin, Guy 51, 55 Side TV, see Amber Film Collective Sin, David 14 Sitney, P. Adams 72, 146, 159 New American Cinema Exposition 43–4, 59 n39, 72 So That You Can Live (Cinema Action, 1981) 125 social networking 270 Society for Education in Film and Television (SEFT) 225 Song of the Shirt, The (Sue Clayton and Jonathan Curling, 1979) 152 South West Arts 51, 151, 155, 217 South West Independent Film Tours 83, 151–2, 157, 217, 267 Spare Rib 92 Sparrow, Felicity 22, 25, 84, 109 Circles 92, 116, 152–6, 203 Greater London Arts 230 LFMC 53, 101, 143 ‘Spontaneous Festival of Underground Film’ 40 Spry, Caroline (COW) 22, 84 Stewart, Heather (BFI) 164 Stoneman, Rod 145, 217 Channel 4 114, 116, 124 Studio International 51, 146 ‘Suitcase Show, The’ (FVU tour) 161 supply chain 119, 139, 267 Supporting the Arts: A Review of the Structure of Arts Funding, 218–19, 222 See also Wilding Review sustainability 26, 187–207, 206, 229, 265, 268 Svankmajer, Jan 158–9, 269 Swann, Cordelia (FVU) 149, 160 Sweeney, Moira (FVU) 162

Tait, Margaret 151 Take Two 199 tank.tv 270–1 Tate, London 44, 157 Taylor, Paul 159 technology, instability of 271 Teitelbaum, Mo 72 television 26, 113–126, 266 artists’ 114–5, 124 and availability 123–4 failure to broadcast 124 as inappropriate medium 125 and LVA 119 as market 118, 168, 183, 192–3, 196, 200, 210, 226 media attention 115 potential 113–14 potential and limitations 116–20 ratings 124–5 viewing context 124–5 see also BBC2, Channel 4 terminology 28–30 Thew, Anna (LFMC) 143, 233, 235 This is a TV Receiver (David Hall, 1976) 115 Thomas, Gary (ACE) 233, 235, 244–7 Thomas, Peter 25 Thompson, Hilary (BFI) 217 Time Out 83, 146 Tower Hamlets, Borough of 221, 223 Triple Vision 115 Turner, Sarah 25 TV Interruptions (David Hall, 1971) 114, 123, 132 TVX video cooperative 114 Two in Twenty (Laurel Chiten, 1988–89) 111–12 Tyneside Cinema 108 UbuWeb 15, 17, 272–3 UFO Club 41 UK Coalition for Cultural Diversity 18–19 Undercut 145, 156, 270 Underground 39–43, 45, 47 film, 40–43 newspaper, see The International Times UNESCO Convention for the Protection and Promotion of Diversity of Expression 19 uploading 272 Urch, Marion (LVA) 167 Us Girls (Albany Video, 1989) 109 user-generated content 15 303

Reaching Audiences

venues 158–9, 203 video 102–6, 113 betamax 106 bookshops, video loans 110 cassette 108–9, 120 domestic market 106–7 implications for 16mm distribution 112–13 lending libraries 108–10 lesbian and gay market 111–12 mail order 110–11, 121–2 open access ‘libraries’ 108 open reel 102, 127 origins and development 102–3 Other Cinema, The (TOC) 110 pirating 112 and pricing 192 quantity vs. quality 123–6 sales 112, 125, 192, 199, 202–3 as threat to film 121 u-matic 103, 104, 108, 123, 127, 203 equipment scarcity 106 VCR 106 VHS 15, 16, 106, 112–3, 125, 167, 192, 203, 210 sell-through 121–3   see also Éditions à Voir, Video Burn see also Cinenova; Circles; Cinema of Women; community video; London FilmMaker’s Co-operative; London Video Arts; Miners’ Campaign Tapes; scratch video; The Other Cinema; video art video access libraries (VALs) 108, 110, 266–7 video art 31, 115, 116–7, 160, 167 installations 147, 161 Video Burn (label) 121 Video Engineering and Training (VET) 189, 224 Video for Galleries initiative 161 video lending libraries 109 Video Positive 35, 161–2 video rental shops 110 video sharing 270 ‘Video Show, The’ 51, 64 n115, 103–4, 127, 151 Video Vera 224 Videoactive Report, The 107, 109–10, 270 viewing context 124–5 Vimeo 15, 26, 270 Viola, Bill 122, 161, 164 see also The Passing viral marketing 270 Virgin 121 VODO 269, 273, 275

volunteerism 26, 88, 116, 154, 193, 196, 198, 205–6, 235, 272 decline in 54–7, 66 n140, 145, 232 dependence on 39, 44, 47, 51, 263, 264 Wallner, Martha 18 Waltz, Mitzi 30 Warcus, Tony (LFMC) 165, 233, 264 Watershed, Bristol 159, 270 Webber, Mark 124 Weiland, Sandy (LFMC) 233 Welsby, Chris 52 Welsh, Jeremy (Jez) 22, 25 Film and Video Umbrella 161–2, 165–7 London Video Arts 117, 147–9, 263 West Glamorgan Video and Film Workshop 109–10 Whitehead, Irene (BFI) 195, 196, 199, 206, 223–5, 231, 236, 239 Wilding Review 218–9, 222, 230, 232, 237, 245, 265 Wilding, Richard (OAL) 218 Willatt, Hugh (ACGB) 46 Wilson, Rodney (ACGB) 48, 51, 108 Wollen, Peter 82 Women Make Movies (WMM) 194, 199, 204–5, 265 Women’s Film Television and Video Network (WFTVN) 223–4 women’s film/video distribution 187, 189, 191, 198, 201–2, 204 changing market 201–5 commercial viability 191–6 women’s groups 85, 91, 201–2 see also Cinema of Women (COW); Cinenova; Circles Women’s Movement 85, 153 Woodward, John (Film Council) 243 Woolley, Stephen 22 Workshop Declaration 115, 219, 222 Worpole, Ken 15 Wyborny, Klaus 159 Wyver, John 15, 115, 118, 120, 123, 125 Yahya, Bennett 41 Yin, Robert 24 YouTube 15, 18, 270–3 screening room 271 Zimmerman, Debra (WMM) 199, 204–5 304

9 781841 501574

intellect | www.intellectbooks.com

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Julia Knight is a professor in moving image at the University of Sunderland. Peter Thomas is an independent scholar/visiting lecturer at University of Bedfordshire and a member of the Exploding Cinema collective.

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developed over the last 40 years by an array of small companies on the periphery of the beleaguered UK film industry. That their practices are now being replicated by a new generation of digital distributors demonstrates that, while the digital ‘revolution’ has rendered those practices far easier to undertake and hugely increased their scope, the key issues in securing a more diverse moving image culture are not technological. Although largely invisible to outsiders, the importance of distributors and distribution networks are widely recognized within the industry, and Reaching Audiences is a key contribution to our understanding of the role they both do and can play.

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