Art will release us
Cornwall photo: Hand Luggage Only
For the first time during this interminable lockdown, the desire to simply board a train or plane, just go somewhere, anywhere different, felt overwhelming. I daydreamed of walking through unfamiliar streets or a town square, sitting outside a bar, unmasked and sipping something cold in the sunlight. Unsurprisingly, it was the week, we should have been on a family trip to Copenhagen, twice postponed, so this yearning was entirely understandable.
However, despite the Covid restrictions, I did manage to get away.
I went to Tibet, somewhere I’ve always fancied. I climbed Nepal’s majestic Annapurna mountains, listened to the howling wind and soaked up the extraordinary light. Then onto Bangkok where I wove through bustling markets, redolent with spices, took a Tuk Tuk to the Wat Pho Temple, marveled at the reclining golden Buddha, then finished the day with an awe-inspiring sunset.
Okay. I admit, it was teleportation. That is travel through TV. Nepal came courtesy of Black Narcissus, the remake of the original 1947 Powell & Pressburger film and Thailand’s exotic scenes were a welcome relief from the murder and mayhem of true crime drama, The Serpent, both BBC productions. Thanks to the locations, I was able to project myself to the other side of the world, without once leaving my sofa.
The transportive power of art is a phrase much bandied about but I’ve never been more conscious of this exit route of the imagination. Marooned in our domestic spaces, forbidden from travelling, it’s books, films, poetry and music that can lift us out of our homes, away from its associated duties and allow us to transcend the everyday. Although we may be physically confined by lockdown regulations, mind travel allows us to roam freely.
Whether it’s the Normandy of Flaubert’s Madame Bovary or the Cornwall of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, we recognise the power of a great book to take us somewhere else. As readers, we invest our time, not only in the emotional journeys and inner conflicts of characters but in whatever world or ‘precinct’ has been conjured by the writer. ‘That’s the thing I love about books,’ said Jhumpa Lahiri, author of Interpreter of Maladies, ‘They let you travel without moving your feet.’
Some of these places will live in our imaginations so vividly that if and when we visit them for real, it can feel like déjà vu. I felt this keenly the first time I visited New York. It had played such a starring role in my TV education, that I had already been among these yellow taxis, subways and drug stores. On Radio 6 right now in The Happiness Map, travel journalist, Rob Crossan speaks to musicians about their favourite places and the music that takes them there. Elvis Costello accompanied us to New Orleans and Emmy the Great was the tour guide for Hong Kong.
So, until there’s an alternative, let’s yield to the imaginative worlds of artists, writers, dramatists and musicians. No Covid passport necessary.
Nilgin Yusuf is a freelance writer. You can find her on Twitter @Nilgin and Instagram @nilgin_yusuf
Discussion (19 Comments)
Thankyou for this article ! Escapism is a very satisfying journey and we sometimes forget the power of something simple like reading a book or watching a film and even wearing the clothes . We all need to dream
Stephanie says:
Absolutely, a few days ago my husband said to me after lunch, “Right, I’m off now to 1950’s London with Francis Bacon. I’ve had enough of all this.” He is currently reading a biography of Bacon, having previously been lost in the bohemian adventures of Lucien Freud in 1940’s London, all hefty tomes but I sensed a while ago places of refuge and normality of a kind. Personally, I ache to be able to visit Wiltshire again.
Ali says:
Ooh! Could I recommend the book, ‘Man with a Blue Scarf’ by Martin Gayford to him? It’s a diary written by the author in 2003/4 about having his portrait painted by Lucian Freud.
LisaBee says:
I often find – especially as global culture becomes ever more homogenous — everyone in same t-shirts, jeans, same brands everywhere, the sameness of airports whether in Sri Lanka or Vancouver, the ubiquity of street food — that the interpreted (filmic, novelistic) version of a place feels more exotic, foreign than the real one now. Also the fact that millions of people are going to Nepal makes this experience essentially a consumer one (and not environmentally sound either in terms of travelling or being there). Whereas an artistic experience is so interior, private, and individual.
Anna says:
I’ve been watching NT At Home. Got a subscription to help them out. In Australia, we are incredibly lucky. We are free to go out maskless, to eat and drink and socialise, to travel, to watch movies and theatre and to go to footie matches…..but the arts in Europe and North America and the rest of the world is in dire straits. NT is brilliant. Also watched a great production online from the Almeida recently. Don’t resent paying – they need help.
Sandie says:
We sometimes imagine we are on holiday at breakfast time – we are usually in Malta overlooking St Julians and there is platter upon platter of tempting fruit and meats with a chef to cook you a fresh omelette. We are also listening to some country music and imagining we are in Nashville sitting in Tootsies with a beer and listening to really good wannabees. Painting has been a salve and Zoom classes on painting have been a godsend. What would we do without TV, Zoom, and of course our imagination. Keep going everyone.
As I know most of you are Brits, my recent “escape” might not seem one to you- I read the Cazalet Chronicles by Elizabeth Jane Howard. All five volumes! I realize they are not new and probably old news to many of you, but they were new and utterly compelling to me. Wonderful writing! On reaching the last page, I felt as though I were saying goodbye to old friends in a large extended family I’d come to know and I felt great regret —and worry over their futures. And their experiences enduring WWII kept me company, so to speak, as we (over in California) still navigate Covid and also worry about the future. I was “moved” in many senses, especially by those at home heroes — the women–hard at all kinds of work to keep going.
This was in top of endless reading, every night, all this past year, and stretching until my final days, I hope — thank God for books! And the work of artists whose works carry us wherever we want to be carried.
Fiona says:
how lovely Sally! yes, I love the Cazalet Chronicles too – you’ve made me want to re-read them! somehow Elizabeth Jane Howard captures that specific time, doesn’t she? and do so agree about books and artists.
Rosemary says:
I remember some years ago reading a novel by a French writer, Pierre Loti. The story took place in Northern Brittany which was where we were staying in the 19th century. I absolutely loved reading about the landscapes, towns and even the weather which was often cold and windy just like it was for us (beginning of March), making everything so much more réal. A few years later we were in the Pyrénées mountains and I read another book by the same author, called Ramuntcho, which took place in that region. Great stuff and great writer.
Thank you for that lovely post.
I loved Call My Agent as every evening for a couple of weeks as I binge watched all of it I went to Paris where people live in apartments with rickety lifts and sometimes friends turn up unexpectedly in the morning with bags of warm croissants. There are lots of other reasons to love this series so I’d highly recommend it if you haven’t watched it already.
Call My Agent and Spiral have provided a brilliant French fix, until we can travel again…
ANN ELDER says:
Oh yes, a nightly dose of Spiral starting from the very beginning. Very addictive and so French or as I imagine it would be.
I’ve been to Canada with the Louise Penny books and even Googled the very streets and buildings in Quebec.
Online art classes from the St Ives School of Painting have taken me to Cornwall where the sea always seems to be turquoise.
But where can I find Call my Agent?During winter lockdown we have visited; courtesy of the telly box; Swedish islands in the summer with The Sandhamn Murders. been all around the UK with Escape to the Country; and are currently revisiting Palma and seedy bits of Paris thanks to The Mallorca Files and Spiral!!
bev says:
I have gone to Bognor (!) for The Fortnight in September with RC Sherriff this week. A simple, cosy read courtesy of the wonderful Persephone Books.
Teresa Riley says:
Ive been re readingthe wonderful Salt Path by Raynor Winn and remembering my walks with my women’s walking group along parts of the fantastic South West Coast path. Cannot wait for the group to meet up again soon. Meanwhile we formed a film night group, watching the same film from our different living rooms, and experiencing films from all over the world. Its been such a comfort.
It has been incredible to discover how virtual travel is real. This past weekend I took 14 ladies from different countries, on a live Zoom tour of Italy’s ceramics, mosaics and glass studios. We even took a live boat ride from Murano to Venice. It was incredibly liberating, inspiring and soul nourishing – 3 days of pure enchantment.
In the words of one of the travellers “A stunning morning odyssey, felt like I’ve really been “away” .” This is our second virtual trip to galleries and studios and not only is it an amazing experience for the travellers but it is also a life line for the artists and makers whom we are supporting. We can’t wait for real travel of course but being able to support the community of makers while giving some happiness time to travellers is a real privilege.
Linda Boardman Kerr 
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I hope when this is over the arts will be re-evaluated as essential. Without books, radio or tv it would have been unendurable. I have been visiting past travels or visualising new ones by memory, drama or literature. Sandi Toksvig’s programme was so good/bad it made me ache to explore again.