How Local Events Coverage Adapts When We’re All Inside

As events are cancelled amid the coronavirus pandemic, local reporters and cultural institutions are searching for new ways to maintain community ties.

By Michelle Delgado

Last month, I did something that now seems unimaginable: I took the Metro into D.C., where I met an editor from Washington City Paper, D.C.’s storied alt-weekly, at a coffee shop. We sipped tea from paper cups without bothering to wash our hands and chatted about the section she edits. Dubbed “City Lights,” the paper’s weekly events listing highlights an eclectic mix of traditional and unexpected activities around the city. From film screenings and concerts to more obscure picks like the way sunlight illuminates a particular park at a certain time, City Lights urges readers to get out and explore, driving home the point that “if you’re bored in D.C., D.C. isn’t the problem.” By the end of the conversation, I’d agreed to start writing blurbs about upcoming local events.

That’s how it did work, anyway, in the pre-pandemic era. As reports of COVID-19 became more dire during the past week, debate about the wisdom of continuing events turned into decisive cancellations. State governments discouraged or outright banned gatherings in an effort to stem the spread of the coronavirus. On Friday, New York banned gatherings of over 500 people, including Broadway shows, and major museums closed voluntarily. D.C. banned gatherings of over 250 people; by Monday, after a weekend of packed bars and restaurants, public places faced even stricter limitations, and the CDC recommended against holding gatherings of 50 or more people. That same day, Philadelphia closed all businesses deemed “nonessential.”

Without a way for groups of people to safely convene, most in-person events are now unthinkable. Some local outlets that would normally highlight upcoming events started tracking their absence instead. The Seattle Times has been updating an extensive list of event cancellations; as of March 13, 65 Seattle-area organizations, ranging from Microsoft to Quilters Anonymous, had cancelled their gatherings. In Los Angeles, Deadline is tracking the worldwide theater closures, work-from-home mandates, and premiere delays that are sending the entertainment industry reeling.

But tracking closures, while informative, also emphasizes loss and absence — qualities at odds with the role events coverage would play under normal circumstances. Oriana Leckert has maintained a public calendar of cultural events in Brooklyn since 2009, and regularly rounds up events for local outlets, including Gothamist. That changed last week, when she and her Gothamist editor agreed to suspend coverage for now. “After I turned in last week’s post, my editor said she was worried it would be irresponsible to encourage people to attend events right now,” Leckert told Study Hall over email. “I agreed, and we decided to put these on hold.” She will be paid this week, but she hasn’t heard whether Gothamist will rethink events coverage moving forward.

For Leckert, the absence of events feels heartbreaking. “Local live events are at the heart and soul of New York City, in my opinion,” she said. “They’re how we build community; they’re where we go to feel fully ourselves and to remember why we’re willing to deal with the extraordinary pressure of life here.” While social distancing is necessary to slow the virus’ spread, Leckert suggests roundups of virtual events might help to fill the void left by cancellations. “I’ve seen, for example, that places from the Metropolitan Opera to circus space The Muse to tiny comedy venue Caveat will be live-streaming upcoming shows,” Leckert said.

That’s the route Washington City Paper ended up taking. Realizing that COVID-19 could make City Lights “irresponsible or totally obsolete,” editor Emma Sarappo sent contributors on a quest to scour the internet for online activities with loose ties to D.C. While readers can’t currently explore the Smithsonians, for example, self-quarantining might present an opportunity to peruse digital collections. “Another paper may have just scrapped this kind of content entirely, but thankfully my colleagues agreed that we could provide something valuable to our readers right now, especially when so much reporting on the pandemic is, frankly, pretty scary,” Sarappo told Study Hall. “I was also hoping to keep my freelancers working on at least a semi-stable schedule, so I’m happy we’ve been able to make that happen.”

It’s an approach that’s also been embraced by Time Out New York, which has temporarily rebranded as Time In New York. In lieu of the usual events coverage, Time Out is monitoring event cancellations and suggesting online activities instead.

There’s one more long-term ramification of events cancellations on local reporters and writers: Cultural institutions may not be able to survive long closures. On Saturday, Seattle-based ticket seller Brown Paper Tickets sent out an email urging patrons to support arts organizations directly. “From independent bookstores, to local theaters, to arts nonprofits, event organizers are in immediate financial danger. For them, every ticket matters — one canceled event could mean the difference between making rent and closing their doors forever.” Leckert shares this fear, particularly when it comes to independent and underground businesses and venues. “How will anyone in this industry be able to pay rent in a few weeks?” she asked. Writers whose work is split between coverage of and participation in local cultural events will inevitably feel this strain, too.

Hilary Leichter found herself in that nightmare event cancellation scenario. After years of work, her debut novel, Temporary, came out on March 3. Originally, Leichter planned to launch the book at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference held in Texas in early March, but the majority of her events were disbanded. Then, last week, her long-planned Books Are Magic event — along with more than a dozen events organized through May — were cancelled or postponed as bookstores across the country closed for browsing. While she hopes to reschedule some events once it’s safe to do so, Leichter points out that new books are published every day, and her moment may have passed. “Last week was a rollercoaster,” she said.

For Leichter and others, these types of events are about more than selling books, although sales are certainly part of the equation. Book tours offer opportunities to foster new relationships, nurture longstanding ties, and forge connections in intimate settings. The same is true for many local events, which are crucial for building community and supporting ongoing creative work. As organizations scramble to find alternatives to in-person meetups, many fear it will be difficult to produce the same sense of connection.

But it’s not impossible. On the day originally reserved for her Books Are Magic event, Leichter came home from a podcast taping and planned to join a video call with her family and in-laws. But when her husband logged in and turned the computer screen toward her, she was shocked to discover a Zoom conference with more than 70 people who had gathered to celebrate her book. The vibe was cozy and heartfelt, and the call lingered for an hour and a half. When Leichter finally tried to wrap it up by singing a few bars of “So Long Farewell” from The Sound of Music, everyone joined an impromptu singalong.

“It’s one thing to have people show up for a wedding or for a milestone in your life, but to have everyone show up in such a moment of crisis from all different parts of the world — it was like a very moving Google commercial,” Leichter said.

For Leichter, the pandemic presented an opportunity to reflect on the accessibility of her book tour events in general. People showed up to the Zoom event with children and pets in their laps. The observation left Leichter wondering whether they could have secured childcare. And the surprising intimacy of the experience also made her wonder whether virtual events could be a good solution for including anyone who wouldn’t normally be able to attend events in person. “There are people who have to think about this every day,” Leichter said. “I’m not one of them, but I want to think about this [moving forward].”

By now, it’s clear that COVID-19 will have a lasting impact on media organizations and the communities they cover. Culture reporters who would normally cover in-person premieres or performances may face months-long delays, or be forced to find other sources of work, and the pandemic poses serious threats to cultural institutions. Still, as local events adjust to quarantine conditions, stories of mutual aid and creative solutions are already emerging. For example, independent bookstores like Alexandria’s Old Town Books are racing to offset lost event revenue by offering online writing classes taught by accomplished novelists. These kinds of virtual events — and the accessibility they offer — may become a more permanent fixture among events listings. It’s possible that we may discover we’re more adaptable than we thought.

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