Moving from Zoom to in-person interviews is a shock to the senses

Moving from Zoom to in-person interviews is a shock to the senses. I’ve got used to talking to somebody on my laptop screen during the pandemic – it’s strangely convenient. I don’t have to go anywhere. But when, a few weeks ago, I finally knocked on a person’s front door again, armed with my notepad, it was a breath of fresh air.

My first “IRL” interview since coronavirus restrictions was with the author Antonia Fraser, and it couldn’t have been a more colourful return to normality. “Oh, lucky you! A real-life interview,” some of my colleagues said – as if the concept had just been invented.

As I was thrust into the Holland Park home she shared with playwright Harold Pinter, I was dazzled by all the photos, paintings – and her. No longer faced with the simplicity of a face next to my typed questions onscreen – I was suddenly juggling a cup of tea and biscuits, deciding where to lay my dictaphone, scribbling stuff down and reading questions from notes on my lap – all while perched on a grand sofa.

One positive of Zoom is that it’s easier to make eye contact for longer; there is simply less to do and that’s more relaxing. But when I went back to Zoom again last week – for an interview with children’s author Julia Donaldson – I felt a pang of irritation I wasn’t there in person.

I searched her study via Zoom for colour to add to my profile piece – luckily there was plenty of it – but then the drilling began outside my window. It’s always a nightmare for transcribing, so I moved my laptop to my messy bedroom hoping she wouldn’t notice.

I still connected to her – as I have in all my Zoom interviews – but it’s nice to catch more than a few facial expressions and not have to conduct it from my bed.

I won’t be waving goodbye to Zoom forever – for me, it’s been great. But I realise there’s nothing quite like meeting somebody in the flesh, even if it does mean leaving the comfort of my own house.

Yours,

Charlotte Cripps

Culture writer