From lockdown to livestream: How Lowcountry arts, cultural programs are coping

In Shakespeare’s day, plagues in England routinely shut down playhouses and theaters. Audiences and performers alike were quarantined, and theaters, even the Old Globe, went dark for extended periods. The good news: Over time, the plagues were controlled, and lives were saved. Clearly, plagues did not end theater then. Nor will the current pandemic end the theater we miss so fervently today.

When the Novel Coronavirus arrived on our shores, we did what communities did centuries ago to avoid infections like COVID-19. We quarantined. As a result, our theaters are dark everywhere, and other cultural events have had to adjust.

In a massive effort to keep theater, musical performances, and art galleries and museums open and available, Lowcountry arts professionals have taken creative steps to ensure the arts and cultural programs will continue. They may actually point the way to a new cultural future.

The show must go on...line

More than six months ago, when the lockdowns became reality, everything we hold dear, culturally, was put on hold. The upside is that the cultural arts industry began an immediate adjustment to ensure that those same cultural arts events, so critical in the lives of so many, would be restored as soon as a way clear was found.

We all turned to social media. In days, everyone interested in the arts connected, via the internet, to live theater, music, dance, art galleries and museums.

Now we all tweet and Zoom and check Facebook and InstaGram, sometimes even Marco Polo, Tik Tok and Qubik. Most impressively, we know the ins and outs of livestreaming! We have updated phones and tablets and computers with various platforms that accommodate everyone’s interest and everyone’s focus.

Livestreaming gives us not only access to local programs, but also an opportunity to see a performance at the Metropolitan Opera, or a close-up look at a collection at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And if you really want a Shakespeare production, you can livestream “Romeo and Juliet” — and a long list of other plays — at that famous Old Globe Theatre.

Solitude and the collective experience

I particularly looked forward to streaming the smash Broadway hit “Hamilton,” which I did with great success on July 4th. I was fully engaged every moment as I sat quite alone in my Eames chair. I listened. I watched. I even sang along with the songs now familiar to me. The experience was revelatory. I savored every moment. But I also realized that I had missed the togetherness, being part of an audience at a live performance.

By contrast, several years ago I attended the original cast production of ”Hamilton“ on Broadway with my New York family. Without a doubt, the birthday gift was my most memorable theater experience ever. I loved the excitement of Broadway, the hustle and bustle of finding our seats, the conversations with those around us, the sharing of how we happened to be there on that night, and so much more.

At the close of the performance, my family had developed a new group of friends determined to remember each other, given the unforgettable evening and production we had shared. The crowd was reluctant to leave the theater, so intent were we to keep alive the spirit we had all experienced.

Alone in my special chair, memories of what was missing filled my thoughts. Clearly, I missed being part of an audience — an assembled group of participants sharing in an entertainment opportunity.

Later, I asked several cultural arts professionals about this, and they agreed that performing before a live audience is vastly preferred — and particularly missed if an audience is not in place to appreciate and absorb their performance.

Being an audience member is for many a kind of social event. It’s joining friends for drinks before the performance and sharing smiles, nudges and sideways glances during the event. And especially, shouting enthusiastically following an amazing, over-the-top performance. But most especially, it is gathering afterwards to share each other’s particular take on the production.

The benefits of solitude

In The Washington Post, Phillip Kennicott suggested that privately absorbing a performance — hearing a piano work or an opera — allowed one to take the moment to another level of appreciation through a kind of self-imposed solitude. It’s true. When I watched Hamilton in my own home, I heard words I had missed in the live performance and picked up nuances that expanded my appreciation of the extremely private performance.

For now, we continue in an alternative mode. We are excited that theater professionals, symphony conductors, gallery directors and arts organizers have faced the fallout of the pandemic and investigated alternative platforms to keep our cultural arts alive, all with a concern for the health and wellbeing of our community.