OT301

From squatting to renting to collective ownership

At the time of writing this article, the OT301 has existed for over 23,5 years. I was there the day the building was squatted and am still involved in the collective today. A lot has happened in all these years – legendary moments, fun and happiness, but also less pleasant things, sadness and disappointment.
Setting up and maintaining a collective like the OT301 is intensive and takes a lot of energy. Together with many other members and volunteers, I have invested a lot of time and we will have to continue to do so to keep the engine running. It is an organic process that will never be finished. Collective ownership is based on shared responsibility, so a certain level of commitment is required, or it won’t work. Active participation in the process is more than endless meetings and discussions, it also pays off. Not financially, but in the form of friendships, a workspace, a stage and freedom.
In this article I will list some key moments from the history of the OT301. It is not a complete historical overview, rather a personal story about community, self-management, organizing, adventure and collective ownership.

A new adventure
After graduating from art school in 1997, I moved from Maastricht to Amsterdam. Even at that time it was terribly difficult to find a house, so I ended up subletting in a dilapidated basement in the east of Amsterdam.
A few months after arriving I met a boy who asked me if I would like to help with the squatting of the empty Anna and Maria pavilion of the OLVG hospital in the east of Amsterdam. That building was squatted in June 1998; we stayed there a little over a year.
My time in the squatted OLVG was fantastic, an adventure like none I had ever experienced before. The building was huge and despite its dilapidated state we could do what we wanted. Within it, we were free. We set our own rules and grew from about ten people at the start to a collective of more than a hundred in a year’s time. A motley, international collective of artists, musicians, free spirits and undocumented people.
Besides living and working in the OLVG, we organized many public events: parties, exhibitions, open days. After a while, the vegan kitchen De Peper also joined us and cooked for people from the neighborhood several times a week. In between all the parties, maintenance activities and meetings, a group of artists founded the association EHBK (First Aid for Art), so that a number of practical matters could be taken care of and constructive work could be undertaken on the realization of a real alternative cultural stage.
After just over a year, we were evicted and the adventure came to an end. In retrospect this time seems much longer than one year, because it was so special – so much happened, I made so many friends and learned so much. That one year is the year when I discovered the value of free spaces and that is why I will never forget it.

The squatting of the OT301
Because the time in the OLVG was so special, after the eviction we were looking for a new building to continue the path we had taken. That new building became the old Film Academy at Overtoom 301, renamed OT301 by us after the squatting.
On November 14, 1999, the front door was broken down and the mattresses, chairs and tables were brought inside. In those days (when squatting was not yet prohibited by law) a building had to be empty for at least a year before it could be squatted, otherwise there was a good chance that you would be evicted very soon. However, the Film Academy building had been empty for less than a year, but the property was too good to ignore, so the risk was taken.
At the time of the squatting, the building was still owned by the Amsterdam School of the Arts, but that ownership was transferred to the city district in January 2000. The plans for demolition, the construction of a bicycle path to the Vondelpark and the construction of expensive condominiums divided opinion at the municipality, so after several tense weeks we were not evicted, but temporarily tolerated.

Functional dynamics
The mixing of functions that we used in the OLVG was continued in the OT301, but because the building was smaller than the OLVG, not everyone and everything could come along. It soon became clear that the first floor would be used for public functions (concert hall, exhibition space, vegan kitchen) and that the cinema on the second floor would remain in use as a cinema. The sound studios on the third floor would also retain their function. Not long after the squatting, I moved into one of those spaces with my electro-punk band ‘3-1’ to make new music and rehearse for our gigs. The rest of the spaces in the building were filled in as living quarters, studios, darkrooms or offices.
The mixing of living, working and public functions to be very positive. It creates bonding, community and a lively dynamic. Of course, different interests and desires also cause discussions and problems, but the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages as far as I am concerned.
Over the past ten years, I have found that this job dynamic, which I have always experienced as normal and logical, is much less appreciated by the municipality, fire department, insurance company and other authorities. People think it’s just complicated. For this reason, the dynamics that can produce so much beauty are the exception rather than the rule. A missed opportunity as far as I’m concerned, because these kinds of forms should be encouraged if you want a diverse, creative city.

From squatting to renting
In November 2001, after long negotiations, a user contract was signed with the municipality. From then on we had to pay rent. No one in our collective had taken into account that we would have to choose between eviction or a user contract, therefore a fierce internal discussion ensued. For some, the new situation was unacceptable. A squatter did not become a tenant, period! And so they packed and left, to squat again somewhere else. Others, fortunately the majority, did not want to give up what we had built.
The acceptance of the user contract meant, among other things, that we went along with the then still fairly new breeding ground policy and that the city invested money in our building for maintenance and safety. The renovations started energetically in 2002, but after an unexpected discovery of asbestos, the building was declared completely unsafe by the fire department at the end of 2002 and we had to stop our public activities until October 2003. Safety first of course, but it was quite a bummer because public programming was the beating heart of our collective project.
The transformation from squatters into tenants had little noticeable impact on the filling of the building and our public activities, but nonetheless something had changed fundamentally. The property we had conquered and the free space we had created were less free overnight. Suddenly we were in the system and we had to apply for an operating license to make official the activities we were already organizing. With this new status also came more fire exits, diplomas, inspections by law enforcement, an acoustic report and official closing times. So going from squatting to renting was not just a matter of a financial transaction, but mostly a mountain of red tape and restrictive rules.

From rental to purchase
In 2006, we were negotiating the renewal of our user contract. We wanted to stay, of course, but we didn’t agree to a 15-year contract. We wanted 30 years or more.
Because the negotiations with the city council were very difficult, at some point we came to the conclusion that buying might be a better option than renting. The city council was open to selling but initially refused to take us seriously as buyers. They doubted the creditworthiness of our association and members, and for that reason looked at other potential buyers. Eventually the city council did relent and we were given the opportunity to make an offer. The council’s asking price was € 900,000, the property’s market value at the time. We thought that was too much. We made a counter-offer based on the costs the district had incurred when it bought the property. Our offer of €500,000 was accepted in February, and from then on we could look for a bank willing to finance us. After discussions with several banks, we finally gained the confidence of Triodos Bank and a mortgage loan for € 625,000 was taken out. That amount covered the cost of the purchase plus an amount for construction on account of overdue maintenance.
I remember well that at that time I was not thinking about buying at all. I might have heard of the concept of collective ownership, but I don’t think I knew much about it. Fortunately, there were some people in our group who did have experience with it and took the lead in the necessary negotiations. In retrospect, this is one of the most important and best decisions we ever made, because this was the way to secure the long term.

From the moment we bought the OT301 and I automatically became part of the construct of collective ownership, I started to think about it more consciously. Gradually, the collective ownership form started to interest me more and more. It is as if a seed was planted in 2006 that grew very slowly, and eventually, many years later led to the idea for Free Concrete and this webdocu.
Now still, and perhaps more than ever, I think that collective ownership is a good form to organize housing, care, communication, education, food production, nature conservation and other necessities of life. It is not the only one, but it is a very important way by which speculative motives can be removed. I am glad to have come down this path and hope to inspire people through the story of the OT301 and similar stories in this web docu to consider collective ownership as an option for the necessary transition to a fairer, healthier and more enjoyable society for all. Collective ownership is a useful and enjoyable way to get something done collectively. For everyone who wants to work together, because together you are strong.

Applause
After years of build-up, uncertainty and struggle, a time of prosperity and appreciation dawned after the purchase of the property. Suddenly everything seemed to be right and going well. To our great surprise, at the end of 2006 we even won the AFK Art Prize and the accompanying sum of €35,000. The jury report praised us for our efforts and called us "an important outboard motor for various new cultural impulses in the city.
Of course it feels good to receive applause and appreciation for what you are doing, but somewhere it also felt a little lopsided because we were being honored by people who initially preferred to lose us rather than be rich.
Winning that award felt like a success at the time, but of course it offered no guarantee for the future. We enjoyed the positive wave we were on for quite a while, but that too eventually dissolved. Unfortunately, winning the art prize and the accompanying applause did not make people who conquer and organize free space more appreciative. In the years that followed, many free spaces were razed to the ground by the municipality and big business.
Nowadays there is again talk and writing at the municipal level about the fact that free space is valuable for the city and that the so-called frayed edges must be protected, but this ambition has not yet become much more concrete than a few temporary square meters.

The edge of the abyss
The "fat" years were followed by a time of decline and sorrow. That sounds dramatic, but financially and organizationally, due to neglect of the organizational structure and a death, our association was on the verge of collapse. We had let go of the reins too much and had therefore lost grip on some essential aspects of self-management. The administration in particular turned out to be a big, untidy mess. There were envelopes of cash whose origins were not recorded, folders full of unsorted invoices, unopened letters, unclear notes and not updated payment statements. We were on the brink of collapse, but hadn't realized it because of all the fun parties, performances, dinners and exhibitions.

Project de Overhaal
To get our act together again and avoid ending up in a similar dire situation, we decided to apply for a project grant from the AFK in 2010. That application was granted, allowing us to work from 2011 to 2013 on a new organizational structure, a new vision and a number of other predetermined goals. The project was titled "the Overhaul. 'Overhaal' is another word for 'Overtoom' and derived from the installation that used to serve (before locks existed) to tow ships over land from one water to another. A symbolic name because we hoped to move ourselves to better waters through this project.
The first year of the Overhaul was all about research. We organized several brainstorming and working sessions with the members of our association and a number of external guests. They discussed the building, finances, organizational structure, visual arts, performing arts and our dreams. Partly practical, but partly imaginative, we talked about what the future might look like at best. In order not to have to reinvent the wheel in all areas, we planned excursions to similar properties at home and abroad.
In the second year, we began to shape and set up our new organizational structure. A structure with working groups (to increase the involvement of the members) and an active board in which, for the first time, two external persons took a seat. A start was also made on writing a new vision and a number of pilot projects resulting from the brainstorming sessions of the first year were set in motion. These included the construction of a green roof, the start of our artist in residency project, an online archive for minutes and the organization of the Otopia festival.
In the third year, we were mainly busy formulating our new vision, organizing all the input from the research phase and the findings from the pilot projects. All this information was eventually compiled into a publication called "Autonomy by dissent. This book is divided into three parts (past, present, future) and content based on the three main pillars (autonomy, self-management and collective ownership) of the whole project. We presented the book at the end of the project, ending an era of substantive research, experimentation, looking forward, recovery and revival.
I was intensively involved in the coordination of the Overhaul and experienced these 3 years as very motivating and instructive. The democratic and visionary nature of the Overhaul contributed positively to reconnecting, activating and motivating its members.

One of the predetermined goals was to reformulate our vision. The vision formulated in 2012/2013 was as follows:
Since 1998, EHBK has united a diverse international community that collectively runs the alternative, non-profit stage OT301, combining working, living and public functions to contribute to the arts, politics and subculture.
EHBK shares knowledge and organizational tasks democratically and encourages all members and visitors to join our experiment.

Now, just over 10 years after the Overhaul, many of the structures and projects conceived at the time are still in use. Not all of the structure is still standing and not everything is working as we had conceived at the time, but I am still glad that we took the time and effort then to work together, listen to each other and be open to change.
The Overhaul was an instructive project with useful outcomes, but times change and I therefore think it is wise to sit around the table again next year, evaluate together and make adjustments where necessary.

Another milestone
The years following the Overhaul were fairly stable. There were of course the necessary internal discussions, noise complaints, turbulent membership changes and occasional financial challenges, but nothing that we collectively couldn't handle. It was a time of normal ups-and-downs that I think are inseparable from a horizontally organized collective like ours.
What has stayed with me most from these years is our continuously strong public - and especially musical - program with many legendary performances by (inter)national bands, performers and DJs.
I love the great diversity of activities at the OT301, but as far as I'm concerned, the concert hall has always been one of the OT301's most striking signposts. Even though we have struggled financially at times as a music venue, we are limited by an acoustic report and do not have the most favorable closing times, I am proud of what we have managed to accomplish. I think - and this opinion is of course colored - that for years we have been one of the most exciting music venues in Amsterdam, and that without any kind of subsidy. Completely on our own merits. We are small-scale, easily accessible, affordable and continuously have a very varied, high-quality program. Musically it ranges from techno, ambient, bass, dubstep, electro and drum & bass to new experimental electronic music types, rock 'n roll, indie, shoegaze, folk, postpunk, punk, drone, reggae, hip-hop, and so on. The OT301 stands out as an experimental, non-profit stage for young, local talent and (inter)nationally appealing names. And very importantly, a stage where success is not measured by attendance or accounting.

In 2019, we celebrated our 20th anniversary. An incredible milestone that was celebrated on Friday, November 15 and Saturday, November 16 with a program of films, performances, exhibition, open studios, workshops, food, drinks and lots of music. I think days like this are the best days of the OT301. The days when everyone is there, everyone opens his/her/their doors, there are activities everywhere and there is dancing until the late hours.
To capture our colorful history, during the anniversary weekend we not only published a new website, but also a photo book. The book is titled "20 Years of Art & Autonomy" and contains, in addition to two short texts, more than 750 photos by many different photographers. A real trip down memory lane as they sometimes say so nicely.

Starting over
Like the rest of the Netherlands and the world, we too were put out of business by Corona. It was a strange time for a place normally open to the public about 5 or 6 days a week. From one day to the next, we turned into a building in which "only" those who had a space there lived and worked. The flow of people from the city fell silent. No performances, no visitors, no workshops, no volunteers, no external energy. Despite the emptiness and lack, I think the enforced silence also had positive effects. Of course it lasted far too long and I missed real life, but surely the break also gave us as a concert hall time to break established patterns and think about the future of our organization and programming. In retrospect, it was an important and necessary moment of evaluation and reflection, as we were certainly not in our best days before the lockdowns.
One of the consequences of the long closure was the departure of a number of members and lots of volunteers. Many of the people who used to do sound, lighting, bar, box office, checkroom, cleaning and programming had left. During the pandemic, some left for family or friends abroad, started new studies, found other work or just didn't feel like it anymore.
The change of people/members is inherently linked to a collective project like the OT301, the cause is actually not even relevant. Member changes are sometimes difficult because it changes the dynamics in the collective and it takes new people a while to adjust to the existing group dynamics. However, changes are also fine and necessary. A collective that does not change rusts solid, nods off and loses relevance. New people means new energy and new ideas, and that is crucial to the survival of free space. So, even though I myself have been involved for a very long time and will also have to make way at some point, I am a big proponent of flow and evaluation.

Mission for the future
As you understand, the OT301 has a special place in my heart. I have spent much of my life there and hope to be there for a long time to come. Personally, I think it would be wise to think even more carefully about the long term of our building and collective. We have it in pretty good shape, but I think there are still some weak links that could cause problems in the future. That's mainly to do with our ground lease and the fact that our legal structure consists only of an association. I think it makes sense to join Vrijcoop or a similar organization. Not only to exclude sales, but also because I think it's important to be part of a solidary, regenerative system and would like the accumulated capital of the OT301 to be used in the future to help new cooperative places with their financing.
Besides the OT301, there are fortunately other Amsterdam sanctuaries (such as the OCCII, Plantage Dok, Zaal100, Nieuw en Meer and Vrankrijk) that have been purchased under collective ownership and are thus firmly entrenched as the last bastions of freedom. That's great, but it's not enough. They, too, should join an organization like Vrijcoop to officially enshrine helping others. In addition, places like Ruigoord, ADM, Rijkshemelvaart and other free places that have not (yet) been collectively acquired should be defended collectively. Perhaps even more importantly, young generations should be helped in every way possible to conquer places in the city where one can live, work and organize without pressure from the market.
I see it as a mission/mission to make sure that together we build a collective force to realize more free places. Places like the OT301, but different. Conquered, designed, organized, managed, inhabited and decorated by people who want something different from the commercial mainstream. The more sanctuaries and collective ownership in the city, the more joy for everyone. I wish an OLVG or OT301 adventure for everyone.