Letter from the editors: Press Play
Photography Edwin Hooper
How do you have fun when you're staring down a pandemic?
By Allyssia Alleyne and Maddalena Vatti
We’d initially planned to release our “Playtime” issue back in June, but our own play got in the way. After months of strict-ish lockdown, restrictions had begun to ease, giving way to sanctioned pub drinks and park picnics, long bike rides to the lake and camping trips, as well as a few BBQs in the long-time-no-see friend’s backyard. On Maddie’s part, there was a much anticipated reunion with family overseas. In the face of a pandemic, we’ll take whatever moments of joy and connection we can get.
Much of the conversation around the practical realities of lockdown has focused on the uncertainty and precariousness of work, but the circumstances have raised just as many questions about leisure. Many of us are discovering that the barriers between work and play – once buttressed by working hours and office walls – are more pliant than we’ve been led to believe.
So we ask ourselves: Who are we without our usual sources of amusement and distraction? When given a clean slate, what will we draw on for fun? How do we renegotiate physical and emotional boundaries to safely enjoy one another’s company?
It’s no surprise that so many of us have chosen the easy transfer from the physical world to the virtual one – what’s another hour or five of screen time? Zoom has made it possible for us to get drunk at quizzes, wander through art exhibitions and attend sex parties from the comfort of our homes. Sofar Sounds, the global events startup known for staging intimate gigs in unconventional venues (think living rooms, bookstores and breweries) has even started inviting music-lovers into artists’ flats for cosy, lo-fi performances.
But this is also a moment for us to indulge our creativity and discover new hobbies. Who doesn’t know someone who, seduced by trend pieces and the Instagram algorithm, has latched onto yoga, bread-making or roller skating? (Take our quiz to find out whether your knack for plant-rearing means you’re ready to breed.)
From his home in Budapest, mixed-media artist Kristóf Szabó told us about how he turned lockdown into an opportunity for international collaboration, working with photographers across the globe on a series that looks at our empty cities through an arresting lens. Meanwhile, isolated in her childhood home in Hertfordshire, away from the buzz of London, arts administrator Chloe Austin has replaced her dizzying schedule of private views and art talks with simpler pleasures.
“My mum showed me how to plant seeds and I watched them grow like an excited child,” she writes. “I jumped back into old hobbies like sewing and writing without feeling a pressure to turn these activities into a side hustle.”
Quaranzine was born from a similar impulse to create for the sake of creation, without the usual pressures of publishing. It’s fitting that we came up with the idea over late-night (early morning?) drinks at our kitchen table, the site of countless crocheting sessions, cooking lessons, fantasy card games and birthday feasts. Playtime takes many forms.
We hope you enjoy reading this issue as much as we enjoyed bringing it together. As always, our inbox and DMs are open and we’d love to hear your thoughts.
In solidarity and isolation,
Allyssia + Maddalena
