
A portrait of the arts in the UK over the past five years.
Picture a theatre.
Spectators fill the stands, the sound of their chatter rising upwards and bouncing back off the ceiling. The great velvet curtain is about to lift. Each person holds their breath, poised to be enveloped in a brand-new performance.
The curtain sticks. Somewhere else, a director yells “CUT!”. It’s March 23, 2020. Everyone is ushered into their homes, the theatre half-forgotten in the sudden rush to isolate. Spectators transform into consumers, and the curtain becomes a screen. #SaveTheArts starts trending while streaming numbers soar. Spotify sees the creation of over a billion playlists by the end of the year. In the darkest days, the country turns to stories.
Thousands stand outside their homes, creating a new form of street theatre as they clap for carers and front-line workers in the NHS each week. Like all good theatre, it comes to an end eventually, on its final Thursday closing night.
It’s easy to look at the arts and dismiss them as shallow entertainment: a last resort after all outdoor activities have been banned, or a school subject viewed as lesser than in the curriculum. Spin the wheel and another kind of criticism takes centre stage. It’s elitist. It’s for the “rich kids”. It’s exclusive.
There is some truth to that last critique. Years later, the world can’t stop talking about the children of established musicians, actors and writers. Who “deserves” their place in the industry – who decides that? And whose voices should be more present?
Cut to present day. A small British drama about a boy and his father makes headlines, prompting a discussion about filmmaking in 2025: its unique single-shot approach, its ever-prevalent subject matter and its actors’ dedication to their craft. It also brings to light how audiences’ expectations for television have changed – they expected a murder mystery with a sickly twist, and instead were witness to four slow and poignant episodes.
As live performance drips back into our daily lives, it’s easy to forget just how isolated we felt without it. Having the option of visiting a theatre or tuning into National Theatre Live from the comfort of your own home has provided the country with a (much-needed) fresh perspective on accessibility, but it has also meant that many live experiences are beginning to be swept behind the curtain. Streaming services and online viewing might be the new norm, but more and more creatives are showing us just how crucial it is for the audience to slow down and absorb the performance before them.
The performers know it too, as they wait those precious extra seconds for the punchline to land or freeze on stage after their final bow.
Curtain.
Exit stage left.