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 gatherings mean a lockdown without culture? Not necessarily.

With my inbox filling up with press releases from arts organisations, musicians and writers attempting to reach their audiences online, I realise we are now in a golden age of online arts that – until people work out how to properly monetise it – is mostly free or low-cost. I could make my own festival 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 writers road test new material in isolation? I joined a Zoom group of around 20 Byron Bay-based writers for an old-fashioned literary salon. A mellow start to my festival, Byron on the Bed is a nice way to kick back with a glass of wine and listen. My favourite is a writer who doesn’t read her own work, but has recorded snippets of conversations she’s overheard. The result 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 events: the Wheeler Centre, Sydney writers’ festival, Melbourne writers’ festival, Yarra Valley writers’ festival and new series Together Remotely.

7:30pm: pub trivia
The Red Hill Hotel
is an excellent pub in a village just up the road from my house in Victoria, who are hosting Zoom trivia once a week. On my team is me and my brother (in one house), my friend (at another, via FaceTime), and his friend (at a third, texting his answers in). We then Zoom in to where the quizmaster is, and join more than 60 other faces: our competition.

It’s the most hectic trivia night I’ve ever attended. Our team’s communications system is like a centipede of failing tech. The Zoom cuts 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 submit our answers. We don’t even have a team name. We never get to find out how we did because the Zoom cuts out again.

For more: Check the Facebook pages of your favourite local venues to see if they’ve moved any events online.

9:00pm: 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 right state to relax into the opening movement of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Music scholars 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 finally 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, suppressing every itch 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.

9:45pm: a nightclub
Woo hoo! I’m logging into the club. Yeah! I’m logging in. What to wear to my first virtual nightclub? I consider it briefly then just 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 remind 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 people in sequins and hotpants dancing around a fairy-lighted room. Like at a normal club, I’m texting friends who I arranged to meet here but can’t find: “I’m here, in the club, 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 blast the music, and end up dancing and drinking until almost 1am. It’s so fun, no one’s sleazing on anyone and I don’t have to worry about getting an Uber home.

For more: Mr McClelland’s Finishing School are hosting parties every fortnight; find out more here.

Saturday 18 April

10am: a visual arts biennale
I won’t lie. I committed a rookie error last night: went too hard on the first night of a festival and now have two packed days ahead and cannot deal. At least I can attend this morning’s program from my bed.

The Biennale of Sydney has moved 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’ work. Please let 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.

For more: Find the digital program of the 2020 Biennale of Sydney – Nirin – on its website and its YouTube channel.

12:30pm: an exhibition
You’ll need a couple of hours to get the most from Crossing Lines. The incredible audiovisual experience of the National Gallery of Victoria’s major Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat show combines a virtual gallery 360-degree walkthrough, a social history of New York in the 1970s and 80s, and lively audio tours.

At times I get confused where I am in the space – and at other times I move the cursor too quickly and speed down corridors of art so fast I feel sick. But for the most part I really enjoy seeing an exhibition this way. For a start, it appears like a lot of thought (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 form or other after the lockdown ends; it’s a great way of accessing the gallery if you live 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 – 10pm: a music festival

Brigid
‘My favourite new thing from this bleak time’: Brigid Delaney’s view of Isolaid festival on 18 April 2020. Composite: Brigid Delaney/Isolaid festival

This is the fifth iteration of Isolaid on Instagram, which has been my favourite new thing from this bleak time. Each weekend the Australian musical festival lineup has not only reconnected me with my favourite artists (and their houses), but introduced me to a heap of new music. Today I watch about two hours’ worth of music, with highlights including 20-minute sets by The Bamboos, Christian Lee Hutson and Jet Black Cat.

While there was a lot of chat this past weekend about the big concerts by John Legend and Lady Gaga, in isolation I prefer the more intimate performances of lesser-known acts.

For more: Stay tuned to Isolaid festival on Instagram to find out next weekend’s lineup.

7:30pm: a live podcast recording
Watching Annabel Crabb and Leigh Sales record a live episode of Chat 10 Looks 3 feels like catching up with old friends. As I make a batch of pumpkin soup (something I’ve never done at a festival), they talk iso baking, books and Bach via their Facebook page.

For more: Follow Chat 10 Looks 3 on Facebook.

Annabel
Annabel Crabb and Leigh Sales’ Facebook live broadcast of Chat 10 Looks 3. Photograph: Facebook

8:30pm: a ballet
Directed by David McAllister, the Australian Ballet’s 2016 production of Cinderella is beautifully shot and performed – but it’s interrupted by the phone call from a friend who is recovering from Covid-19. After he fled a crumbling villa in Italy just before the country locked its doors, he went to Berlin, London, Dubai and Brisbane before succumbing to this “hell disease”.

“Never take your health for granted,” he tells me. I am still a bit hungover from the first night. I fall asleep and miss the end of the ballet.

For more: The Australian Ballet’s digital season is available here.

Sunday 19 April

7am: a meditation
Get up at 6:30am. Very early for a festival. This event is a Sonic Zoom Meditation. I don’t know what to expect. A gong sound bath? A choir? A meditation? All three?

The event is US based and it’s 5pm there – but it’s actually well-suited to a crisp autumn dawn here. There are 357 people in the Zoom group and at 7am my time the host unmutes all our microphones and we make a sound. My sound sounds like I’ve just eaten off chicken and am about to be sick: “Arrgghhh, argghhh.” But together we all sound quite lovely.

For more: World Wide Tuning Meditations are happening every weekend.

8am: a Broadway piano bar
Now shuttered because of coronavirus, staff of the legendary New York piano bar Marie’s Crisis are continuing to perform showtunes from their homes – and you can tip them via Venmo. “This is how I buy toilet paper and groceries,” said Franca Vercelloni from her piano as she launched into Hello Dolly.

Again, there was a sharp stab of nostalgia as I recalled how it used to be: late at night, people pressed around the piano, singing along, throwing notes in the jar. I imagine though, for the community of people who went to the bar every week, singing via the internet is better than having no singing at all.

For more: Marie’s Crisis are streaming performances every day on their Facebook page.

11.30am: a musical

Brigid
‘I eat leftover pumpkin soup for breakfast. Riveted by this musical.’ Photograph: Brigid Delaney

I’ve never seen Phantom of the Opera – and this production, filmed at the Royal Albert Hall in 2011, is so slick. So professional. So much. The big voices. Opera capes. Gowns. Heaving bosoms. Epic songs. But I get distracted – and sad – when the cameras pan across the theatre to show the audience. They are all out. Dressed up. In a theatre. Sitting close together. It feels subversive.

Andrew Lloyd Webber is currently releasing musicals on YouTube for a limited 48 hours each week, on a free or donation basis. He’s so far gone through the 2012 stadium production of Jesus Christ Superstar (starring Tim Minchin) and the 1999 film of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat (starring Donny Osmond). By the time I start streaming Phantom, it has already been viewed 7.5m times.

I eat leftover pumpkin soup for breakfast. Riveted by this musical. The Phantom is my favourite character – what a voice. I get shivers when he breaks into the final rendition of All I Ask of You. You not that ugly, Phantom. I would marry you.

For more: Stay tuned to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s the Shows Must Go On YouTube channel to find out about the next show.

5:30pm: a play
For a mere four quid (which goes to the NHS), Soho Theatre in London is offering a 48-hour rental of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s stage show Fleabag, which morphed into the hit TV series.

We set up the laptop, light the fire and crack up laughing for almost two hours. I wish for a firepit and a movie projector, but like electric bikes and puppies there’s probably been a run on them.

Waller-Bridge is, of course, a brilliant writer. But this play shows just what a brilliant physical actor she is. That face!

For more: Head to the Soho theatre website to watch Fleabag on demand.

It’s Monday after my three-day IsoFest, and just like after any festival, I am wrecked. My brain is mush from seeing so much art, music, theatre and dance. I loved sharing everything from a dance, to a reading, to pub trivia with strangers. But … but … it’s not the same.

You make memories at festivals. You meet people who become friends or lovers. There is serendipity and surprise – all this, plus the art. I experienced some of the best art and culture the world has to offer – but without the festival crowds and a posse of friends it’s like the proverbial tree falling in the forest.

Did the festival really happen if there was no one else to share it with?

Read more: www.theguardian.com