The last week has seen the sudden closure of one of Scotland’s most important arts venues. No, not the CCA, which had been an accident waiting to happen for years. Nor are we talking about Cumbernauld Theatre, which was eventually rescued after a rethink on funding previously denied them. Neither is it any of Edinburgh’s assorted festivals, nor the country’s national arts companies who have been on standstill funding since forever.
This is about Theatre 118, a volunteer led DIY theatre company formed by a loose-knit collective of Glasgow based writers, directors, actors and other theatre makers less than a year ago. Set up with the aim of presenting new work at affordable prices, Theatre 118 also provided cheap rehearsal space for independent practitioners who might not be able to afford to hire anywhere else.
Up until last week, the company was based on one floor of Granite House, an empty office block at 118 Osborne Street in Glasgow city centre. Since moving in last summer, the company set up a sixty-seat theatre, where they presented over fifty public events that gave a platform to 400 writers, directors and actors to audiences of more than 1,500. Events included Play of the Week, a month long season of new works performed to sell-out audiences. This recalled the early days of A Play, a Pie and a Pint, the lunchtime theatre initiative at Oran Mor that became a full-blown theatrical phenomenon.
Other works seen in Theatre 118 included a play by award winning playwright Milly Sweeney. A pantomime, the now pertinently sounding Jack and the Privately Owned Beanstalk, ended a hugely productive 2025. Crucially, Theatre 118 ran the space without a penny of public funding, surviving on box office takings, good will and a wing and a prayer.
Last week, however, Theatre 118 and more than ninety other artistic tenants in the building were given notice to quit. Granite House had been sold to developers planning to convert it into student flats, and everybody had to be out within seven days. Cue all hands on deck to move out staging, costumes, lighting and other technical equipment in double quick time. The suddenness of the enforced move also meant the cancellation of six planned productions, including a second season of Play of the Week.
Up until then, Granite House had been run by Outer Spaces, an arts charity that leases vacant properties from commercial landlords on a temporary basis in order to provide rent free studio space, mainly for visual artists. As a producing theatre company in residence, Theatre 118 broke the mould.
Like Theatre 118, Outer Spaces is about access and affordability. This is a good thing, and they are currently providing essential spaces for artists right across Scotland. The temporary nature of the leases, however, can be problematic. If the owners of a building who will already be getting cheaper business rates due to the arrangement get a better offer, they can take the building back with little notice, as is the case with Granite House. This is the deal Outer Spaces, Theatre 118 and all other temporary tenants signed up to.
In Edinburgh, studio spaces in the former Scottish Life Assurance building on Henderson Row in the capital’s New Town was run by Outer Spaces for a couple of years before the owners decided to attempt to convert it into flats. While this bid was refused by City of Edinburgh Council in December 2025, the numerous studio holders were long gone after being given a fairly honourable two months grace before having to leave the year before.
For all the good work of Outer Spaces and their tenants, it is property developers who benefit most, and seven days notice feels like an unnecessarily harsh form of landlordism.
In the meantime, Outer Spaces has opened up their City Park space in Dennistoun to house Theatre 118’s equipment while the company looks for a new, hopefully permanent, home.
Theatre 118’s experience over the last week highlights the precarious nature of the grassroots artistic ecosystem in a way that requires a serious rethink. For all the good work initiated by Outer Spaces, artistic tenants paying zero rent have no voice and no real power over how a space is run. And when a building is reclaimed by its owners, as the last week has shown, it can cause chaos.
What is perhaps required instead are cheap spaces that can offer more long-term security, whereby residents such as Theatre 118 have some sense of agency, while a building’s owners give at least two months notice before taking back their property. While unlikely to be an easy negotiation, something needs to be done soon.
Theatre 118 and other initiatives like it are where things begin. If artists like those behind it don’t have a space to call their own without having to worry about being evicted, this will also be where they end.
The Herald, February 14th 2026
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