Digital festivities

Gone are the days when people used to whine about digital avatars of literature and art festivals. They are no longer seen as poor substitutes for the “real”, on-site, flesh-and-blood jamborees. The Covid-19 pandemic has pushed many to recognise that virtual editions can be as engaging as offline ones if the organisers do not skimp on the production values of events.

This year, the Jaipur Literature Festival offered a hybrid model. From March 5 to 9, they had a delectable menu of online programming with pre-recorded sessions. The on-ground festival was from March 10 to 14; these sessions were also made available online both through live-streaming, and in the form of recordings to be accessed at one’s own pace and convenience.

The thrill of getting an autograph from or a selfie with a beloved author after standing in a long queue at a book-signing booth is one of the high points of being at a literature festival. The joy of listening on a computer or cellphone screen seems a bit muted in comparison.

On the upside, online participation saves one the trouble of finding the perfect seat – a place from where one can not only hear the speaker but also see them. Moreover, when a session starts to get boring, one can sign out instead of forcing oneself to stay till the end. The embarrassment of walking out while a session is in progress is non-existent online.

These are the concerns of the privileged – including yours truly – who are too spoilt for choice. It is important to remember that literature festivals also serve a pedagogic role. Young people who flock to these get an opportunity to encounter what is missing in their curriculum.

Unfortunately, the lack of access to low-cost high-speed connectivity continues to be a critical issue in India but that should not stop us from innovating on the digital front. Instead, we need to find desirable solutions so that more people can reap the numerous benefits that the digital world opens up with respect to education in the broadest sense of the term.

In December 2021, the Chennai Photo Biennale opened with exhibitions in both physical and virtual forms, showcasing works by artists from different parts of the world. There were virtual artist talks and virtual guided tours to help students engage with the artworks and understand what goes into the process of art-making. When the physical exhibitions wrapped up, the biennale continued to have a digital afterlife.

This year, the India Art Fair (IAF) will take place from April 28 to May 1 in Delhi but the organisers have found a way to expand the festival’s presence beyond the capital. In addition to their online programming, they have put together the IAF Parallel Programme, which includes events and exhibitions of Indian and South Asian art taking place in Mumbai, Hyderabad, Alibaug, Chicago, New York, San Jose, Oxford, Dubai and Hong Kong.

Those who are excessively committed to the way things used to be will scoff at these new forms springing up right before our eyes. It would be wise, however, to accept that some of these might outlast the pandemic. People who are keen to reduce their carbon footprint will opt for online participation when they can avoid air travel and its environmental impact.

Festival organisers would be able to strengthen their online programming through value additions for audience segments that are often neglected – people who are unable to participate in on-site events due to accessibility issues, physical and psycho-social disabilities, chronic illnesses, mental health challenges, and family responsibilities.

In a patriarchal society, women are expected to be the primary caregivers for children and the elderly. Many miss out on programmes that they would love to attend but have no time for.

There is another area worth looking into when we discuss the pros and cons of on-site, virtual and hybrid forms. Festivals that allow free entry have a hidden cost – cultural capital, a term attributed to French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. The performance of class and caste is heightened through the clothes that attendees wear to on-ground festivals, the language they use, and who they bring along. Even if organisers have no intention to discriminate, groups form quickly as attendees talk about which schools, colleges and universities they studied at. While attending sessions online, one does not have to deal with the anxiety of being a misfit.

The flip side of virtual events is that one does not get to meet fellow attendees, make new friends, or be surprised by the discovery of authors and artists that one knew nothing about. For those who want none of this socialising and networking, or what poet T S Eliot called preparing a face to meet the faces, the online mode offers the priceless gift of anonymity.