
Kathleen Hughes Twig
By Grace Hatchell, 2nd Act Couriers, writing this while sheltering beneath a theatre flyer, protecting my placard from the rain and discovering that papier-mâché and Scottish weather remain bitter enemies.
The placard reads:
“Talent Shouldn’t Need A Trust Fund.”
And honestly? I mean it.
Because tucked inside today’s rather important delivery bag is news from Gilded Balloon.
The long-running Fringe venue has launched a brand-new Show Support Fund, designed to help artists tackle the increasingly steep financial climb involved in bringing work to Edinburgh Fringe. And if you’ve spent even five minutes chatting to performers in August, you’ll know this conversation has been brewing longer than a forgotten festival coffee.
Delivered through Gilded Balloon Futures Ltd, the venue’s relaunched charity arm, the fund aims to raise commercial, public and charitable support that goes directly where artists often need it most — not glamorous champagne receptions or shiny brochures, but the practical realities that make performing possible.
We’re talking rehearsal space.
Marketing.
Travel.
Accommodation.
Creative support.
And, perhaps most importantly, wellbeing.
Because while audiences often see the applause and posters, what they don’t always see is the spreadsheet quietly sobbing in the corner.
The fund arrives as Fringe costs continue to rise, creating barriers that can make participation feel impossible for performers without financial backing. Gilded Balloon hopes this initiative ensures that distinctive voices — particularly those with limited means — still get the chance to be heard.
And I reckon that matters.
Quite a lot, actually.
Helping kickstart the initiative is none other than comedian, writer and composer Tim Minchin, alongside wife Sarah Minchin, whose contribution has helped launch the fund’s inaugural year. Their donation will support five selected productions chosen by Artistic Directors Karen and Katy Koren, focusing on solo performers with bold voices and personal stories across comedy and theatre.
That support has already helped raise £10,000 for 2026, benefiting:
• Jamie Kilstein: Can’t Tie Knots
• Madeleine Brettingham: Legend
• Lois-Amber Toole: SLAY
• Alan Jay: Hell Hath No Humour Like A Gayboy Scorned
• Kathleen Hughes: Twig
And these aren’t just names on a funding list.
They represent artists navigating international travel costs, personal challenges and the increasingly difficult economics of early-career performance. Support from the fund may quite literally determine whether some productions reach Edinburgh at all.
Karen and Katy Koren spoke passionately about protecting what makes the Fringe special — taking risks on new voices and giving artists the chance to be seen, something Gilded Balloon has championed for more than forty years. They described the fund as practical, targeted help that can genuinely alter someone’s career trajectory.
And Tim Minchin’s own words add a rather lovely full-circle moment.
He recalled receiving a late-night phone call from Karen Koren more than two decades ago, admitting he didn’t even know what Gilded Balloon was at the time — only to discover that the conversation became the very “big break” he’d spent years doubting existed. Now, after twenty-one years of friendship and support, he says it feels a privilege to give something back as Gilded Balloon heads into its forty-first Fringe.
Which brings me back to that soggy placard.
Because this story isn’t just about funding.
It’s about the future.
The Fringe has long prided itself on being a place where unknown artists can surprise the world, where strange ideas find audiences and where tomorrow’s headline acts often begin in modest rooms with nervous flyers and borrowed props.
But if the cost of entry rises beyond reach, what happens then?
What voices do we lose before we ever hear them?
So consider this from me, postal worker of theatrical persuasion, carefully sidestepping puddles and making a respectful but firm appeal to the wider industry:
If you’ve benefited from the Fringe, believed in the Fringe, or built your career because of it — perhaps now is the time to help keep the doors open for whoever comes next.


