Why We Do The Things We Do The Way We Do Them

On the surface Empty Shop has always seemed to be an organisation that navigates by instinct. We often describe ourselves as ‘Learning by doing’ and say our greatest strength is our flexibility. Creative Response has been a watchword since day one and in interviews we make a virtue of being ‘Fleet of foot’.

We pride ourselves on creating social, relaxed environments that empower people to engage with culture on a more even footing. This manifests itself differently in each space — our desire to avoid creating white cubes in our early days meant we’d been going for over a year and delivered more than a dozen shows before we had our first white wall. We still make sure that a kettle and means of playing music are the first two bits of kit we bring to any new space.

It’s a sort of obsession with creating social spaces and a keen desire to be responsive to opportunities and people. At times it create an impression of flying by the seat of our pants, or being reactive rather than proactive.

On the face of it that makes sense for an organisation that made its name as an early proponent of ‘pop-up’ methodologies and always seems to have something new cooking. There’s an element of truth in it. Carlo and I probably value our collective ability to adapt more than any other skill that we possess.

That impression however belies the reality of how we work. While we describe ourselves as being fleet of foot we also say that we’re the tortoise rather than the hare.

The value we place on that adaptability means it’s inbuilt to the organisation. It’s a core principle we carry with us whatever we do. But it can obscure the time and labour we put into designing things. Carlo and I spend a huge amount of time talking about the work of Empty Shop. Alice and Carlo spend a MASSIVE amount of time and emotional labour on making HQ what it is. Quite rightly, we don’t share this information, or our decisions, with everyone. It’s important to us that this stuff is never explicit but instead comes out almost imperceptibly in a million little details that at times we genuinely agonise over.

We launched our first ever empty shop with a promise to those who wanted to book exhibition space that ‘The Answer Is Already Yes’.

On the face of it this is just a cheesy, innocuous catchphrase. At the time however it was a statement of intent, designed to demonstrate our desire to be open to new ideas and our commitment to those who chose to work with us. Just like the name ‘Empty Shop’ it was a calculated decision to break down some of the starchy barriers associated with art galleries and exhibiting your work. It also made us look slightly mad.

We’ve carried that slightly mad energy with us with huge pride ever since. Last year we worked with more than 50 promoters to produce 182 events at HQ. We launched studios for 12 artists and a new gallery space. We delivered multiple other projects; one of which was a jazz festival which we planned and delivered in its entirety in less than 12 weeks. Over 2000 people came along and it even cleared a profit. Heather Spencer, our partner in that festival, has now gone to become a National Fellow for diversifying jazz.

None of this happens by accident.

So how does it happen? How do we balance our commitment to ‘Learning by doing’ and responding to people and ideas with the essential needs of any business i.e. Budgeting, stability, ordering stock, delivering everything else you had planned to do regardless and still finding time to clean the bogs?

The answer is that you build adaptability in by design and you value the ‘new’ enough to seize opportunities in spite of traditional good sense. A bi-product of this is looking slightly mad or that you’re doing everything by the seat of the pants. We haven’t really worried about this too much in the past. Doing has always been more important than perceptions. Anybody who matters already knows. In theory.

So what’s changed? We’ve grown a fair bit in the past few years. Whether we like it or not you can’t operate for a decade without becoming, to a certain extent, part of the establishment. An increasing number of people — collectives, promoters, artists, audiences and businesses — rely on us. You’re probably one of these if you’re reading this. You’re our stakeholders and simply put there are too many of you for us to talk to individually any more! We’ll always try to make time for individual conversations but we can no longer answer all of the questions all of the time. As a business there are also some things that we simply shouldn’t tell everyone.

Change is not only inevitable, it’s inherent to Empty Shop. So we thought the time was right to start being a bit more open about some of our thinking and the decision making processes.

This blog is therefore a space for contextualisation. It’s a peek behind the curtain, a sighting of the legs that go like the clappers beneath the gracefully gliding swan — though we’re probably more accurately a slightly raggy looking duck. Perhaps that’s enough analogies for one day…

There’s a long standing debate about process vs product in the arts. How much of your process can you show before it alters the product? Is showing your working honest or illusory?

For us we’ve always painstakingly crafted spaces, events and opportunities that show just enough to hopefully inspire and empower people to do their own thing. Behind that however is an entirely different process that we’re actually very precious about.

I suppose what I’m saying is, if what we do looks a bit raggy at times then — at least part of the time — it’s knowingly so.

So as the blog progresses we’ll share info, reflections and updates. We won’t share everything. Not all posts will have this semi-confessional tone I promise. But if you care about Empty Shop it might help you understand why we do the things we do, the way we do them.