Yours is a newly founded worker cooperative opening soon at 43 Moray Place in Central Dunedin. Politically conscious worker cooperatives are something of a novelty in New Zealand, though the cooperative model generally is less of a rarity (paging Fonterra). Given its unusual nature and its openly anarchist leanings, I spent an afternoon talking to some of the cooperatives members about the structure of the project, their hopes for it, and the dream of ‘building the new world in the shell of the old’.

The building is a hive of frenetic activity leading up to the anticipated December opening. Painting and renovations are going on seemingly everywhere across a veritable warren of backrooms. The exterior, which still bears the visage of the old restaurant (The Asian) that formerly occupied it, belies its rapid internal transformation. The project contains multiple arms across its three floors, a café/venue, meeting space for community groups, what the members call a ‘media syndicate’, and a bookshop separate from the cooperative but organised on similar lines. Ideas abound about grow rooms to supply the café with mushrooms, relaxation spaces set aside from the anticipated bustle of a center city café, or art studios for the city’s art scene. Plans constantly shift as new people join and grander ideas for the future of the deceptively large building are hatched. Everyone, however, is singularly focused on an early December launch.

Conceptually the project originated in conversations being had around the need for organising spaces in Dunedin, with particular inspiration being drawn from the European squatting movement. In the absence of such a movement or any real living tradition of politically conscious squats in New Zealand the conversations began to drift toward worker cooperatives as a model for securing such a space. Cooperatives seemed to provide a model for people to participate in a collective project within capitalism. As one member put it “We all grew up under capitalism.” A strong emphasis is on non-market human relations. The market bleeds into all aspects of life so at least in part the project envisions itself as a push in the opposite direction (whatever shape that might start to take). There’s a sense of using the project as a proving ground for anarchistic ideas, of demonstrating anarchism as a mode of social organising. In it is a spirit, a kind of ‘joy of resistance’ not unfamiliar to the anarchist scene that once flourished amidst the anti-globalization movement 20 years ago, if on a smaller scale. The carnivalesque side of anarchism is plain to see in the vibrancy with which the project is approached. Yours is, in short, envisioned as a place to be. A genuinely public space, as it were, where people are asked to participate in what manner they can and reap the reward for doing so in the betterment of the shared space.

Structurally the medley of projects planned for the building come under the legally registered Ōtepoti Possibilities Co-operative, with Yours being the flagship project around which the frenetic activity at the building is focused. A plot of land outside the city from which some of the cafés food will derive is also under the wing of the ŌPC. The members stressed the desire for a degree of self-sufficiency and resilience, with creative options for ongoing funding are being explored to avoid direct market obligations as much as possible (a quest helped along by sympathetic building owners). They see it as an experiment in what might work in a modern setting, reviving old ideas and giving them a metaphorical and literal new lick of paint. Thus far the regulations governing such an enterprise have proven a surprisingly low barrier to the project, something that the decision to avoid the troubled waters of alcohol licensing has likely made substantially easier. It is also hardly an impediment that the building came with a commercial kitchen already in place.

The project has some things going for it, not least of which is the local music scene crying out for more venues. Indeed a healthy relationship with the wider artistic community, something the members seem more than enthusiastic in fostering, provide an almost ready made clientele for the café. The problem of vague yet zealously enforced noise regulations which have plagued other venues, including the nearby Dog With Two Tails, is a hurdle yet to be jumped and a potentially worrisome one at that. But in providing the venue, Yours will find allies to tackle that problem if (no, when) it arises. The shared antagonism which all venues find, which arranges them together against the city council and assorted officials, may weirdly prove to be in a manner beneficial to the project, as supposed competitors have a far bigger hassle to deal with than anarcho-libertine free-thinkers who have long been a factor in the city’s artistic community. Yours may well find itself one of the club, another venue unfairly harried by the noise cops with which the scarce few other venues still active must find a common ally. At the very least, the constant problem venues find with this matter seems to this writer an issue that will inevitably rear its head.

Yours is hardly a closed project. A consistent point pressed by the members was the desire for people to contribute in any way they see fit and to in turn see Yours as, well, theirs for having done so. To find enjoyment and community in the shared labour of establishing and running the project, to set ones hands to a shared project for the simple pleasure of marveling at what one creates in the process. People are encouraged to bring what they’re best at to the project, and to see where those natural or personally honed skills fit best. As such, the process of getting the site ready for opening to the public is itself open to any who wish to join. Money is also welcome as a contribution (if you so wish there is a kickstarter which is nearing its final goal), but the emphasis seemed to me to be on bodies above cash.

Personally, I remain skeptical of the whole ‘building the new world in the shell of the old’ when that old world remains alive and furiously kicking. Such projects inevitably find themselves faced with the iron vice of market discipline, and while a number of such ventures have found a perhaps surprising degree of success and longevity (I would recommend this article in Issue 1 of Counterfutures by Sam Oldham on the matter) that success comes amidst the bones of their failed fellow travelers. My skepticism, however, does not trump my principles, and on such principles I intend to put my money where my mouth is and to patronize the project and recommend its community venue to any organisations looking for such in the center city. As such I also suggest that any interested readers contact the project (details for which can be found here) whether to volunteer their time, offer money or potentially useful furnishings or goods, or simply to discuss any matters related to the project which this article might inspire. I wish them well, and hope they find what they are seeking in their attempt to build that which could be out of that which is.