In the Spotlight: Aaron Bowman

Aaron Bowman is a creative producer based in Hartlepool, working across the Tees Valley and County Durham. With a background in English and a deep commitment to storytelling, Aaron’s work spans contemporary art, live events and community-led projects — often unfolding in unexpected spaces like parks, shopping centres, market squares and community halls.

His practice is shaped by a belief that everyone has a story worth hearing, and his role is often about finding creative, inclusive ways to bring those stories into the open. Currently collaborating with organisations including No More Nowt, TeesDance and ARC Stockton, Aaron is also developing his own independent projects focused on connection, place, and collective imagination.

In this interview, Aaron shares his journey into freelancing, reflects on the evolving creative landscape of the Tees Valley, and talks about the importance of collaboration, regional identity, and building something bigger than yourself. Whether you're a fellow freelancer, a curious funder, or someone passionate about local culture, his insights offer a grounded, generous take on what it means to make meaningful work in and with community.

Let’s introduce you to the network, tell us a bit about you…

I’m Aaron Bowman, a creative producer based in Hartlepool and working mostly across Tees Valley and County Durham. My background’s in English, so I’m always thinking about how stories get told - not just in books or on stage, but in the way we build projects, connect people and make things happen in overlooked places. My work sits somewhere between contemporary art, live events and community-led activity, and I’m happiest making things outside of traditional spaces: parks, shopping centres, market squares and community halls. The common thread in everything I do is a belief that everyone has a story worth hearing - and my job is often about finding the right way to bring those stories into the open.

I’m currently working on my own projects, as well as with No More Nowt, TeesDance and ARC Stockton. 

You are based in the Hartlepool, did you grow up here?

I’m originally from north west Durham, in Consett -  a place that’s a bit rural, a bit post-industrial and definitely its own thing. I’ve spent around 10 years working across the Tees Valley. What I love about the region is the constant tension between history and reinvention. It’s a place that resists easy answers and always keeps you thinking.

One thing I’ve noticed, having worked in both Hartlepool and Peterlee, is how much the Tees Valley and County Durham could learn from each other. I’m always a bit surprised by the lack of collaboration across that ‘divide’ - both sides have so much to offer and the potential is huge if we can start sharing. But time’s ticking - with all the new regional politics and the combined authority on the horizon (and yes, Kim McGuinness looming in the background), there’s a real urgency to build those bridges.. 

Can you tell us about your journey into freelancing? How did you become a creative producer?

I didn’t start out with a plan to become a creative producer - I did an English degree because I loved stories, and my first job in the sector was in events. What I found myself drawn to, over and over again, was the process of bringing ideas to life - connecting the right people, making things happen, and helping turn a scribbled note into something real. I’ve done firework displays for 15,000 but I’d much rather be in a smaller room nowadays!

Freelancing happened partly by accident and partly because I wanted to shape my own projects, pick who I worked with and stay open to new opportunities. But honestly, I wouldn’t recommend going freelance until you’re ready to drive your own projects forward. Even as a freelancer, you’re still operating within other people’s structures and rules - you have to be confident enough to see yourself as an equal collaborator, not just someone hired to fill a gap. You’re your own small business, with all the responsibility and possibility that brings. If you’re not ready for that, it’s easy to get swept along by other people’s agendas. But if you are, freelancing is a brilliant way to build a practice that’s yours.

Were there any pivotal moments that shaped your path?

After more than a decade, I still feel like I’m figuring things out - this work is always shifting. My English degree gave me an obsession with narrative and structure, and that underpins everything I do - whether I’m chairing a meeting, co-writing a Project Grant, building a festival or talking to a funder, it’s all about the story we’re telling together, who it’s for, and why it matters.
Working with Periplum last year showed me what’s possible when you make ambitious work for public spaces - their large scale outdoor performances were cinematic, place-specific and unforgettable. Just brilliant work! 

Working in local government for 7 years taught me about how broken the systems are and how deep austerity cuts affected local government and their role in shaping arts and culture in Hartlepool and across the Tees Valley. Local Government is filled with lots of brilliant people and I will forever be thankful for my time at Hartlepool and at Redcar. But in places like Hartlepool, where cuts have disproportionately affected the cultural sector and funding has (rightly) gone towards supporting the film sector, it has meant that there is a gap in creative leadership, so I’m keen to continue to collectively fill the void.  

Even though I haven’t done a major project with Luca Rutherford, just having her around as a pal has shaped how I think about presence, honesty and holding space for others. A brilliant human. 

Freelancing often comes with highs and lows - how have you found navigating that balance?

It’s a real mix. There are times when the work is buzzing, new projects are coming in and it feels like everything’s moving forward. Then there are days of admin, uncertainty and chasing payments. What keeps me grounded is remembering the bigger narrative: every meeting, every proposal, every bit of paperwork is part of a story that’s much bigger than just me.
I lean heavily on other freelancers and informal networks - sharing voice notes, talking things through over coffee, swapping advice and support. Those relationships are the real infrastructure. They remind me that even when things feel messy, I’m part of something bigger and not just working in isolation.

The juggle is real. (Credit to Frances Arnold for that phrase)

What are some of the challenges you’ve faced as a freelancer in the creative and cultural industries?

The most obvious challenge is financial - there’s always the risk of gaps between projects, and it can feel like a constant juggle to keep things moving. Visibility is another big one: freelancers are often at the centre of projects, holding relationships and shaping outcomes, but rarely get recognised as central to the sector and in places like Hartlepool, we are the sector.
There are very few producers here, and therefore there’s not a great deal of knowledge within the creative community about what a producer actually does. Whenever I hear someone complain about how hard it is to get funding, I always ask who their producer is. It doesn’t have to be them sat alone in a room applying on their own - find someone else to join you on the journey! There’s loads of Associate Artists, but very few, if any, Associate Producers. 

It’s been interesting to watch the support that Tees Valley Combined Authority have given to the larger organisations, many with regular funding from Arts Council England, to support the development of their work. They’ve sucked up a lot of funding which hasn’t really affected the bottom line of the freelance community - it has benefitted a very small number, whereas projects from North East Combined Authority have directly developed the work of freelancers and smaller SMEs. I think this will be the next challenge - how we support innovative freelance and smaller organisations to increase their profile and their output, in comparison with NECA. 

What’s the creative landscape like in the Tees Valley right now?

Honestly, I think I’d rather work here than in a big city. There’s a real sense of possibility bubbling up - lots of artists making work that’s specific to here, not just copying what’s happening in cities. There’s quiet ambition, interesting collaborations and a willingness to experiment. What excites me is the potential to connect across the Tees Valley and County Durham more meaningfully - not just headline partnerships, but real, ongoing relationships where resources, ideas and learning get shared both ways.
If we get it right, the next five to ten years could see the region build an ecosystem that’s ambitious, generous and led by the people who know it best - often freelancers, who are already doing this work in the gaps left by bigger organisations.

When talking to others in the creative industries from outside of the area, I think one of the biggest challenges is communicating what Tees Valley is - the rest of the North East has strong individual cultural identities that are woven in deeply. I’m not sure we have a strong equivalent within the Tees Valley, so I’m always interested in conversations about how we talk about ourselves as a region. And i’m not talking about the shared histories; they are there - SDR, Iron, Ship-building, migration, Quakers etc. But what is the collective vibe that unites us all? 

Honestly, I think it’s that across all five conurbations, we do things a little differently. Our uniqueness is actually what makes us distinct. In one place in Hartlepool, you can see a nuclear power station, a protected wetland, a landfill site, an oil rig being dismantled, sand-dunes and a herd of cows - there’s nowhere else where that variety is as strong as on Teesside (Hartlepool and Darlo). We’ve got our own airport! We dance to the beat of our own drums - and despite what people think, we’re actually quite accepting. We have a Pride for each Borough, we have a Mela, we sometimes have Tall Ships, we have a crop of incredibly individualised arts festivals across the region too. The five conurbations (love that word) that make up the Tees Valley all have a distinct offer that, if we were artists, would make a vibey little Collective that would produce some sick little projects. 

If you could work on any dream project or collab, what would it be?

My dream projects are always the ones that feel both familiar and a bit surreal - a mass karaoke in a shopping centre, a soap opera devised by people who actually spend their time in the town centre, a community meal that quietly transforms into a piece of live art. 

I love work that lives in the blur between everyday life and creative possibility - where people can’t quite tell if it’s art or just a brilliant rumour, and where everyone feels like the story belongs to them.

What advice would you give to someone just starting out as a freelancer in this sector?

There’s no single way to be a freelancer, so don’t feel you have to fit anyone else’s model. My sense of work has always been shaped by what I saw growing up - my dad was self-employed while working shifts at a factory, so I learned early that “work” doesn’t have to fit inside 9-to-5. Later, I worked in a small business myself - my former partner owned a café in Durham city, and that taught me even more about responsibility, improvisation and what it means to build something personal from the ground up.
Freelancing is at its most worthwhile when you treat it as a gap, not a destination - a way to build towards something bigger. For me, that’s about developing my own company, formalising my practice and creating something that’s greater than the sum of its freelance parts. 

Don’t wait for permission, find people you trust, and let your practice grow in whatever direction feels right - even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s. Every bit of admin, every hard conversation, every late night is part of your story. And don’t be afraid to aim beyond “freelancer” - if you want to build something bigger, lean into that ambition.

And finally, you have a voice - it is important that you use it for good. 

And finally, what’s next for you? Anything coming up that you’re excited about?

I’m working on a series of commissions exploring food, place and belonging - using meals and creative encounters to spark conversation and bring people together in new ways. I’m working with an artist called Gabriel Gustart to put on an exhibition here in Hartlepool, which has been lovely in part because we have no budget - a refreshing change with the ultimate intention of doing something slightly more organised. Mostly, I’m trying to grow a practice that’s generous, sustainable, and open - something that gives other people permission to bring their own stories, ideas and ambitions to the table and that keeps me connected to the places and people I care about most.