From Fleabag to a nightclub, from a biennale to the ballet, Brigid Delaneys personal IsoFest took her all around the world on her laptop but it wasnt the same
Does a lockdown without mass meetings necessitate a lockdown without culture? Not necessarily.
With my inbox crowding up with press releases from artistries organisations, musicians and novelists attempting to reach their audiences online, I realise we are now in a golden age of online prowess that- until beings used to work how to properly monetise it- is principally free or low-cost. I could move my own carnival from the comfort of my own home.
Curating my own three-day, multi-arts, multi-platform festival- to enjoy by myself- wasn’t the same as attending a real one. But it was … an experience.
Friday 17 April
5pm: a literary salon
How do columnists road test brand-new cloth in isolation? I met a Zoom group of around 20 Byron Bay-based writers for an old-fashioned literary salon. A melt start to my celebration, Byron on the Bed is a nice practice to kick back with a glass of wine-colored and listen. My favourite is a writer who doesn’t speak her own employment, but has recorded snippets of exchanges she’s overheard. The arise is funny, but weirdly poignant: a reminder of a time when we could get close enough to other people to eavesdrop on them.
For more: Bookmark the following websites to find out about upcoming online books happenings: the Wheeler Centre, Sydney novelists’ festival, Melbourne writers’ celebration, Yarra Valley writers’ celebration and brand-new series Together Remotely.
7:30 pm: tavern trivia
The Red Hill Hotel is an excellent pub in a village simply up the road from my house in Victoria, who are hosting Zoom trivia once a week. On my unit is me and my brother( in one home ), my friend( at another, via FaceTime ), and his friend( at a third, texting his reply in ). We then Zoom in to where the quizmaster is, and meet more than 60 other faces: our competition.
It’s “the worlds largest” hectic trivia night I’ve ever attended. Our team’s communications system is like a centipede of flunking tech. The Zoom sections out after 40 minutes. When we log back in again, we’ve lost a teammate. The questions are too hard and we don’t know how to defer our answers. We don’t even have a team name. We never get to find out how we did because the Zoom pieces out again.
For more: Check the Facebook pages of your favourite local venues to see if they’ve moved any case online.
9:00 pm: an orchestra
Agitated by the trivia, hungry, and distracted by how close the Australian Chamber Orchestra musicians are to each other( this was filmed in 2018 ), I’m probably not in the claim district to loosen into the opening movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Music academics have described it as the” most famous symphonic trajectory of expressive minor-key darkness to coruscating major-key light”, but where’s my pizza?
When it ultimately arrives, it doesn’t feel right eating junk food while listening to the ACO- which in real life I would sit rigidly still for the duration of, muffling every rub and cough. I am a bit drunk, texting and eating pepperoni pizza- but this immense work by Beethoven remains undimmed.
For more: Check outthe Australian Chamber Orchestra’s digital program here.
9:45 pm: a nightclub
Woo hoo! I’m logging into the club. Yeah! I’m logging in. What to wear to my first virtual nightclub? I believed to be briefly then exactly decide to go in the activewear I’ve been wearing for six weeks.
There are more than 300 people at Mr McClelland’s Finishing School , a Zoom party iteration of the Melbourne indie-pop night. The faces in the squares prompt me of Chatroulette: you never know what will appear on screen. In this case it’s either people sitting too close to their cameras or beings in sequins and hotpants dancing around a fairy-lighted room. Like at a ordinary organization, I’m texting friends who I arranged to meet here but can’t find:” I’m here, in the fraternity, where you ?”
As well as dancing( Primal Scream, Paul Simon, Robyn, Carly Rae Jepson ), you can message the DJ( Andrew McClelland) or shout out to other club members. I’ve set up Zoom with a speaker to bomb the music, and end up dancing and drinking until almost 1am. It’s so enjoyable , no one’s sleazing on anyone and I don’t have to worry about get an Uber home.
Saturday 18 April
10 am: a visual arts biennale
I won’t lie. I committed a rookie lapse last-place nighttime: went too hard-handed on the first night of a celebration and now have two packed dates onward and cannot deal. At least I can attend this morning’s planned from my bed.
The Biennale of Sydney move away some of its program online; I head over to Cockatoo Island and then to the Art Gallery of New South Wales for a tour of Karla Dickens’ occupation. Please told the lockdown be over soon, so I can see this amazing work in real life. Visual art on a screen is just not the same.
12:30 pm: an exhibition
You’ll need a couple of hours to get the most from Crossing Lines. The incredible audiovisual knowledge of the National Gallery of Victoria ‘ s major Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat demo combines a virtual gallery 360 -degree walkthrough, a social record of New York in the 1970 s and 80 s, and lively audio tours.
At ages I get confused where I am in the cavity- and at other epoches I move the cursor too quickly and speed down hallways of prowes so quickly I feel sick. But for the most part I genuinely experience appreciating an exhibition this direction. For a beginning, it seems like a lot of imagined( and money) has gone into it; the NGV’s online offering is very slick and comprehensive. It wouldn’t surprise me if they keep this up in some model or other after the lockdown aims; it’s a great channel of accessing the gallery if “were living” far away.
For more : take the virtual tour of Crossing Lines at the NGV, and check out the rest of the NGV’s channel here.
1pm- 10 pm: a music carnival