About this research project
This blog concludes my research supported by the Go See Share Fund, a Creative Scotland programme designed to help artists and collectives travel, connect, and share learning. Over the past several months, I’ve met with five organisations - SPILL Festival (Ipswich), Household (Belfast), Catalyst Arts (Belfast), Opal Festival (Normandy), and Fierce Festival (Birmingham) - to explore one central question:
How can small, community-driven arts organisations build financially sustainable models without losing their values of accessibility, inclusivity and care?
For Flos Collective, this project came at a turning point. After years of self-funding our events and operating almost entirely on volunteer energy, we’re now beginning to receive grants and formal recognition. That shift is exciting, but it also raises difficult questions: how do we grow responsibly? How do we stay accessible without burning out? And how do we make sure our financial decisions always align with our mission?
The organisations I visited offered a spectrum of answers - from the structured stability of SPILL to the radical trust of Opal - together forming a mosaic of what sustainability can look like when it’s done with care.
1. Sustainability can take many forms
Every organisation I met had a different definition of sustainability.
For SPILL Festival, it’s about structure and reflection - having systems for planning, evaluation and audience research that make funding relationships stronger and more transparent. Their use of data and feedback isn’t bureaucratic; it’s creative. Evaluation becomes a tool for growth rather than a box to tick.
At Household, sustainability is defined by care and flexibility. The team scale their activity up or down depending on capacity and funding. There’s no pressure to overproduce; they focus instead on deep, long-term relationships with communities. Financial sustainability, in their case, means not overextending - a lesson that feels crucial for small teams like ours.
Catalyst Arts takes another approach altogether. Their model is rooted in community ownership and renewal. A rotating board of volunteer directors, a small membership scheme, and decades of goodwill have kept them alive for over thirty years. Sustainability, there, isn’t about financial growth - it’s about continuity through shared responsibility.
Opal Festival, on the other hand, demonstrates that sustainability can exist outside of traditional finance altogether. With no paid staff and no money exchanged on-site, the festival operates entirely through voluntary labour, transparent budgeting, and a collective understanding of shared cost. Every participant - organisers, artists, and attendees alike - pays for their ticket. It’s a radical model that shows how fairness and equality can underpin economic resilience.
And finally, Fierce Festival shows what sustainability can look like when scaled up. Through long-term planning, a biannual rhythm, and a funding mix that combines public grants, international partnerships, and box office income, Fierce manages to remain both ambitious and accessible. Their five-year budgeting cycles and clear financial boundaries allow them to take creative risks while staying grounded.
What connects all five is that sustainability isn’t a single outcome - it’s a living practice. Each organisation keeps adjusting its balance between care, access and finance depending on context.
2. Transparency builds trust - and resilience
One thread that ran consistently through every visit was transparency.
At SPILL, financial clarity forms the backbone of their relationship with funders. At Catalyst, rotating directors share full access to accounts and decision-making. At Opal, the entire community can see where every euro goes.
Transparency doesn’t just make administration smoother - it builds trust. When people understand where money goes, they’re more willing to contribute to keeping the work alive. It turns audiences, artists, and even funders into collaborators.
For Flos Collective, that might mean publishing short post-event breakdowns - simple infographics showing how funds are spent and what they make possible. We don’t need to reveal every number, but we can offer clarity about values: how much goes to artists, to access measures, to community engagement. Financial openness can be a form of community care.
3. Community is a financial asset
Every organisation I met with turns community participation into a form of stability.
Catalyst’s membership scheme (around £200 per month from regular contributors) and Household’s partnerships with social enterprises both build micro-economies of support. Opal takes this further: every attendee is also a contributor. Labour and costs are distributed so evenly that sustainability is built into the structure itself.
That lesson feels particularly relevant for Flos. Our events already foster a strong sense of belonging - people come back because they feel seen and valued. But we could formalise that energy into a clearer support network: a membership scheme, volunteer opportunities or even small recurring donations. These aren’t just financial mechanisms -they are ways to deepen connection and engagement.
Community, I realised, is a financial resource - one that grows through participation, not marketing.
4. Growth isn’t always the goal
It was striking how many of the organisations I met actively resist the idea of “scaling up.”
Household and Opal both operate within deliberate limits - staying small enough to remain personal and financially manageable. For Opal, that’s literally embedded in the design: if they exceeded 500 attendees, they’d require costly permits and professional infrastructure, so they cap at 350. It’s not a limitation, it’s a strategy.
Meanwhile, Fierce Festival and SPILL have scaled in ways that serve their purpose rather than dilute it. Fierce’s biannual rhythm ensures rest, reflection, and financial control; SPILL’s move to Ipswich allowed it to become more community-rooted while stabilising its finances.
This pattern - choosing depth over expansion - feels especially relevant for Flos. Sustainability isn’t about constant growth. It’s about understanding your scale, protecting your energy, and being intentional with what you build.
5. Care and capacity are financial concerns
The organisations that feel the most stable are those that take care seriously - not as an abstract value, but as part of their budgeting and planning.
Household’s flexibility in adjusting output to available funds prevents burnout. Fierce’s biannual model includes periods of rest and reflection. Catalyst’s rotation system ensures no one person holds too much for too long. Even at Opal, care is built into the structure - through the Care bubble, consent team, and post-festival rest period. This made me realise that care and capacity are financial issues. Burnout leads to turnover, inconsistency, and lost knowledge - all costly in the long run. Building care into our structure at Flos means budgeting for labour fairly, setting realistic project scopes, and acknowledging our limits as part of our sustainability plan.
6. Financial sustainability can come from collective ethics
If there’s one overarching lesson from all five case studies, it’s that money follows meaning. None of these organisations are “profitable” in the commercial sense - but they’re sustainable because people believe in them enough to keep showing up, volunteering, donating or buying tickets.
SPILL and Fierce sustain themselves through professional rigour and consistency. Household and Catalyst do it through community trust. Opal does it through radical equality - no paid roles, no hierarchy, everyone contributing. Each, in its own way, shows that financial sustainability can be built on ethics: clarity, fairness and collective care.
Moving forward
Bringing these lessons back to Flos, I’m more certain than ever that accessibility and sustainability can strengthen each other when rooted in community.
Our next steps will be to:
Develop clearer ways to share how we use funding and what it enables;
Explore small-scale membership or regular giving models to build community investment;
Continue centring fair pay for artists, while exploring shared volunteer opportunities that feel collaborative rather than extractive;
Build long-term partnerships that align with our values;
Protect our capacity - remembering that rest, reflection and care are as essential to sustainability as income.
If this project has taught me anything, it’s that there’s no single route to sustainability. Some organisations do it through structure, some through spontaneity - all through community.
At Flos Collective, our goal isn’t to become a larger organisation. It’s to become a steadier one - one that’s transparent, caring and grounded in the same accessibility that shaped us from the start.
Sustainability, I’ve realised, isn’t about surviving for its own sake. It’s about creating the conditions that let art, care, and connection keep flourishing.
– Esme, Co-Director, Flos Collective
