There was a time when I was quite excited about Smithdown Social Arts Hub in Liverpool. I first heard about it around 2016. It was only about a twenty-minute walk from where I live, and the idea immediately appealed to me. Here was something on my own doorstep that seemed to offer exactly the sort of thing I like: art, workshops, music, events and, above all, somewhere local where people could meet and do things together.
The name itself was part of the attraction. “Smithdown Social” sounded like a place that was genuinely social—somewhere you could go along, meet people, see what was happening, take part in something and become part of a local community. I was looking forward to going.
Then I discovered something which changed my view of it: virtually everything they did had a fee attached. If you wanted to take an art class, you paid for that particular class. If you wanted to attend a workshop, you paid for the workshop. Events had their own charges too.
Of course, there is nothing inherently wrong with charging for an art class. Tutors have to be paid, materials cost money, buildings have rent and bills to pay and community organisations don't run on fresh air. I understand all of that.
But for me, the problem was what seemed to be missing. I had imagined a community space which had some paid activities but also free ones. What I encountered seemed more like a venue where participation itself generally involved paying for something. That was disappointing.
There is a big difference between saying, “We've got a community space, come in, see what's happening, meet people, look around, and if you fancy doing an art workshop tonight, that's £10”, and saying, in effect, “If you want to participate in what we're doing, there is a charge for everything”.
The first creates the feeling of a community space. The second feels more like a series of commercial activities taking place in a “community-oriented venue”. And that matters particularly for the people who might need community spaces most.
Someone on a comfortable income might not think twice about paying £10, £15 or £20 for an individual activity. But someone on a low income, a pensioner or an unemployed person or simply somebody who doesn't want to spend money every time they leave the house, faces a different proposition. A genuinely open community space can provide something valuable even when you don't buy anything.
And this is where I think the word “Social” in Smithdown Social's name created an expectation which, at least for me, wasn't quite matched by the experience. I wasn't expecting everything to be free. Nor did I think that artists and tutors shouldn't be paid. What I was hoping for was a mixture: some activities that cost money, alongside some things that were free or genuinely open to local people.
Perhaps there could have been exhibitions that people could simply walk into. Free drop-in sessions. Occasional community evenings. Somewhere to sit and meet people without having to book an activity. Paid workshops could then sit alongside those things and help subsidise the wider operation. That kind of mixture would have made sense to me.
Instead, my initial enthusiasm gradually turned into a feeling of disillusionment. The place was physically close to me, and I liked the idea of what it represented, but I didn't feel that it was really my local social space. It was somewhere I could pay to participate in particular activities.
That distinction is especially significant now because Smithdown Social has subsequently faced serious financial difficulties and has ultimately lost its premises at 455 Smithdown Road. When I passed the building recently, it appeared to be closed, with a sign indicating that a food business is due to open there.
It would be rash to assume that this happened simply because Smithdown Social charged people for its activities. There appear to have been much wider financial pressures involved, including the difficulty of obtaining funding and the costs of running a physical premises. The organisation itself appealed for financial support when it was struggling to keep going.
But its story does raise a bigger question about what we mean when we call somewhere a “social hub”. A community organisation still has to pay its bills. It can't survive purely on good intentions. If a large part of the income comes from charging the people who use the place, there is an obvious tension. The organisation needs customers. The customers need to feel that they are getting something worth paying for. And suddenly the organisation is operating in a very different environment from the traditional community centre, club or informal social space.
A commercial café can charge for coffee because selling coffee is what it does. An art school can charge for art classes because teaching art is its business. But when an organisation presents itself as a community social hub, people might reasonably expect something more than a collection of paid activities.
This article is a personal account of someone's experience and perception of Smithdown Social Arts Hub. Its inclusion here does not necessarily represent the views of this blog or constitute an endorsement of the opinions expressed. (Ed)
