Inside Kingston’s Artistic Council: Curiosity, Conversation, and Hope.
I went into the Kingston Theatre Alliance’s Artistic Council Meeting not quite sure what to expect. I had imagined something like a long boring board meeting: agendas, motions, votes. What I found instead felt more like a creative co-working space, where artists, administrators, and theatremakers gathered around a shared table (this time, a virtual one) to swap updates, brainstorm solutions, and ground ourselves in the state of Kingston’s theatre scene.
The meeting began with some people apologizing for sounding ill and a reminder to take care of our bodies, especially in the middle of festival season when eighteen-hour days can pile up fast. That set the tone for a meeting that was equal parts practical and deeply human.
After Artistic Producer Liam Karry opened with a recap of the last meeting, he invited updates from across the community. Blue Canoe celebrated a milestone profit share for the first time, tripling their goal; Juvenis marked another festival season. Single Thread was hiring; Wilding shared about writing and improv workshops, the new Canadian Improv Games, their show at Something in the Water, and more; productions across the city, from Love in the First Degree to puppetry presentations at the Fringe, highlighted the richness of local and visiting talent.
What struck me the most was the variety. Attendees included festival directors, theatre companies, individual creators, comedy groups, and more. Each person that spoke, whether a representative of an established company or a single emerging creator, is adding a different colour to Kingston’s performance landscape.
The conversation quickly turned to what felt like the central theme of the meeting: venues. There simply aren’t enough spaces to put on shows, and the ones that exist are often out of reach, sometimes costing $500–600 a night just to access a stage.
Stories surfaced of artists losing prime performance slots because of shifting venue decisions, or groups paying more in venue fees than they could ever hope to make back in revenue. The need for a black box theatre, owned and managed by the theatre community itself, came up again and again, highlighting the necessity of having a venue that is not dependent on the decision-making of universities or municipal management.
As one person put it, the funding cuts at Queen’s have left a gap that feels both urgent and daunting. But the urgency also sparked ideas: shared spaces, volunteer banks, advocacy campaigns, even learning from models in other cities like Galway.
The conversation also touched on how the political climate and shifting funding priorities are shaping what theatremakers can do. Increasingly, funding is being tied to tourism and job creation metrics. Attendees spoke about the importance of data collection, tracking audience numbers, economic impact, and outcomes not just for grants, but for the storytelling that is now needed to prove the value of art.
Updates from the Kingston Arts Council were encouraging: a forthcoming report based on their artist survey, with open data that creators can use in their own grant applications. Early findings suggest that the biggest needs are funding and help with marketing—something that resonated with many in the (virtual) room.
One of the most hopeful announcements came from Board Chair Hamza Syed Ali, who announced a new Advocacy Committee. This group will function like a working group, building a grassroots campaign to address community needs. An idea on the table included a sector-wide effort to pool resources. But more than any single initiative, it was the sense of alignment that stood out. There is a defiant recognition that while theatre may be seen by some as “unviable,” this community is ready to push back together.
By the time the meeting wrapped up, my initial curiosity had transformed into hope. Not the naïve kind, but the kind of hope that comes from seeing a community wrestle honestly with its challenges and still choose collaboration.
There is no sugar-coating the realities. Yes, venues are scarce, funding is shifting, and the pressures are real. But there is also a clear determination: to keep meeting, to keep sharing knowledge, and to keep imagining a stronger infrastructure for Kingston’s arts scene.
If anything, the Artistic Council Meeting is proof of what happens when artists, administrators, and dreamers make space even just a few hours every quarter to hold each other up and sketch out a future together.
The Artistic Council Meeting is held quarterly and is open to anyone who would like to be involved. Find out more here.
