Andrew Eaton: 'Hidden Door is a defiant celebration of a city's cultural community'

I'M GUESSING you'd like some good news this week. I was going to talk about the fact that the arts got off a little more lightly in Wednesday's budget cuts than some people expected, but "lightly" is relative. It's still a 15 per cent cut, and Scotland is still waiting to find out the extent of the damage here.

So instead I'm going to talk about Hidden Door, a new arts festival which, as you read this, is in full swing at the Roxy Art House in Edinburgh, finishing tonight (www.hiddendoor.org – have a look). In these cash-strapped times it's a bargain – 40 bands, 60 visual artists, 20 film-makers and 20 poets, over three nights, for a 10 entry fee per night. That's 75p per band, or 50p per artist, or… well, you get the picture.

When I went to the first Hidden Door in January, it was as if the Fringe had briefly returned to the capital to warm up a cold winter. The whole building was buzzing with colour, ideas, enthusiasm, and lively conversation. I spent most of the night scouring the programme for bands I'd not heard before and artists I'd not seen. It was inspiring and re-energising.

How much public funding does this ambitious event receive? None. Corporate sponsorship, then? No, none of that either. Hidden Door's business model is, simply enough, that every participant pays a 40 deposit which is returned to them after the festival. Any profit goes towards funding the next one.

It's not an ideal way of funding an arts festival – no one makes any money, unless they sell CDs or artwork – but it's a pragmatic and community-spirited approach, dreamed up in a spirit of collaboration, trust and positive thinking. Artists seeking exposure get their work seen by hundreds of people, and each participant only needs to bring in four paying punters for the festival to break even. It's also a good networking opportunity, a privilege artists frequently pay money for.

As for audiences, they see lots of stuff for not much money. The quality is variable, yes, but that's true of any festival. Some of Edinburgh's more established bands are absent, yes, but arguably the festival is not for them. It is what it is, a launchpad for those who want it, and a defiant celebration of a city's cultural community. It's also a timely reminder that creativity will find ways to thrive whether it's funded or not, and whether anyone gets paid or not.

Go today if you can. It deserves your support, and it'll cheer you up.