Four years ago right about now, I was five weeks into my new job as Culture Editor of this newspaper. By March 23, we were in lockdown, and I was at home. It did not feel like an auspicious start, though at least I wasn’t the only one anymore who didn’t know what they were doing.
I thought I’d be furloughed within days. Instead my team and I became the Cheer Up London Department, and spent the summer writing about Tiger King and The Queen’s Gambit; clunky digital theatre and Dua Lipa’s cheery second album; musicians serenading their neighbours at teatime and how opera could help Covid sufferers get their lung capacity back.
