Our damp corner of Norfolk now rivals London for art and culture
THE GREAT ESCAPE Hattie Garlick
Looking for Covid’s silver linings is so last lockdown, I know. Since I’m always comfortably situated behind the curve, though, here’s one I’ve recently noted.
I always imagined I’d suffer acute Fomo when we finally left London. Doing so in lockdown, however, has meant all the galleries, theatres and comedy clubs that were formerly on our doorstep have been padlocked and cobwebbed almost continually since we moved. There’s nothing to miss out on. That’s a colossal tragedy for the millions who, just a year ago, were employed in or enjoying the UK’s world-leading art and cultural sector. But… might there be a glimmer of hope for those who, previously, weren’t?
Between 2010-11 and 2018-19, Londoners benefited from £687 each in culture funding. The rest of the UK’s residents received a meagre fifth of that. In fairness, the Arts Council has struggled hard to rebalance this. It just turns out that not that many people are keen to lend their Vermeer to the Ambridge art society when it could hang in the Royal Academy instead.
Thus those living in the countryside make occasional weekend trips to the city instead, bingeing on the arts instead of grazing. We had reconciled ourselves to doing the same. Except that, suddenly, the Globe Theatre’s children’s workshops are happening not in the round, but online. In December, the launch of National Theatre at Home meant we could all watch world-class performances from our sofas for under a tenner a month. In April, the British Museum revealed the largest-ever update to its online collection. It doesn’t matter if you’re in Bloomsbury or Buldoo, you can now see 4.5million objects of global significance, from Damian Hirst portraits to Bronze Age pendants.
But why stop at London’s attractions? From our muddy field in Norfolk, we can now teleport to Amsterdam’s Van Gogh Museum, whose lockdownlaunched website exhibits every single one of its paintings, drawings and letters in such fine detail that we can zoom into individual brush strokes. The Solomon R Guggenheim Foundation is running new online programmes while its museums are closed. New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art has turned its website inside out, so that previously buried online resources are brought to the surface of its home page.
These new online interactions are no substitute for the real deal. Nothing will ever match the audience experience of sublimating into the darkness as the lights go down, while income from cheap or even free online programmes is a drop in the ocean of financial losses caused to arts organisations by brick and mortar closures. Still, when we crawl out of the Covid era, need the two be mutually exclusive? Couldn’t live arts experiences be supplemented with these newly invigorated online resources, boosting revenues and democratising audiences?
The Royal Opera House first began screening live performances at regional cinemas in 2011. More than six million people have now watched one of its productions on the big screen. Could the current revolution in online arts engagement have a similarly seismic influence? How many people might now try ballet, opera, or abstract expressionism for the first time while online entry is free and doesn’t involve forking out for a return ticket to London, too?
A lot, it seems. Estimates vary, but less than 10 per cent of audiences at live classical music, opera and ballet performances are likely to be under 31. Since lockdown, the Royal Opera House has been streaming on YouTube and Vimeo as well: 55 per cent of viewers are 44 and under, they tell me, while whole families watching together make up a major component.
And who knows? Maybe one of these kids will be the next José Carreras, selling out concert halls and healing the deep wounds caused to opera by Covid. All because they were able to watch from a sofa on the Shetland Islands.
“I’m fitter than I was at 40” Phil Jeremy, 66, from Marbella
My father, grandfather and greatgrandfather all died aged 59. When I was that age I ran around the rim of the Grand Canyon. Everyone thought I was mad.
Today I’m in better shape than I was in my 40s. I played a bit of football and ate what most people eat, but I had a bit of a stomach on me and I didn’t have the muscular tone I have now.
Then when I turned 54 all that changed. I stopped eating bad stuff and I started running a little bit more, and more. And then I started to do a lot more. I started to do marathons in the mountains.
When you’re doing a 10-hour ultra-marathon you really need to understand the effect that has on your body. So I got a coach and learnt about nutrition.
I’d spent my career as an agent for models and actors, and then late in life, I became a personal trainer.
Now I help people my age, but also people in their 20s and 30s to stay fit.
Running ultramarathons isn’t particularly good for you, I should say. I wouldn’t recommend it to most people; it’s an extreme thing. Most of my clients just do sprints, because it’s much better for you to do high intensity training.
There’s no point going to the gym for an hour and spending most of that time on your phone. It can be for just 20 minutes but you’ve got to hit it hard.
Most importantly, being healthy is about what you eat. Most people just don’t understand that and it’s a shame because they tend to train badly and eat badly but think they’re doing it the right way.
The first thing I do with clients is stop them having sugary breakfasts like cereal, orange juice and too much fruit. It sets you up all wrong for the day. Instead you should have a proteinbased breakfast like eggs.
I suppose I got fit because I was worried about not living past 59, but ultimately my wife and I enjoy feeling healthy and going out and running. We enjoy being able to do these things.
My advice to others is to build up slowly. If you can’t do much, then just try a short sprint up a hill, come back down and try it again, and go from there.
Do some push-ups. Do some squats. It really isn’t that complicated. @fitphiltraining
There’s no point going to the gym and just looking at your phone