Way back in my last blog, I was sketching in the dark at The Soup Kitchen in Manchester.
What I didn’t mention was that Mr. Price and I met two lovely ladies there who invited us to run a ‘Little Urban Sketchers’ workshop and to be official ‘war artists’ for Cavfest.
This is a family-friendly one-day rock festival run by the forward thinking Cavendish Primary school in Didsbury, Manchester.
As the day dawns, they’ve sold out of their 2,000 tickets, but when we arrive in the quiet of late morning, organisers and volunteers are peacefully setting up on the playing field.
However.. by three, the craft tent is a madness of parents and kids. Our little stall is set up to encourage youngsters to pick up pen and paper (supplied) and go out and draw a list of subjects.
It’s a quiet start for us, other activities such as face-painting and drum workshops have more immediate appeal. And we’re next to to the immensely popular Make Me A Monster workshop which threatens to push us out of our corner, with its ever-advancing army of still-wet, painted-box monster heads.
“Look at my bloody jeans!” says Mr Price a couple of days later, showing me where he’s caught his legs on some particularly lurid shades..
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We take it in turns to oversee our budding artists or to go out sketching.
The sun’s shining when I selfishly overstay my sketching time to draw Emma from Throwing Pandas and The Cornelius Crane, leaving Mr Price to the increasing volume in the tent.
I’m delighted to see children sat in front of the stage who are actually sketching! So it HAS worked!
Later on we’re able to go out together and sketch the crowds and lean on the barrier in front of the bands. What a lot of babies and children there are- I feel quite unfashionable in my sproglessness, but liberated at the same time.
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Evening falls with a light drizzle. Badly Drawn Boy is headlining, and we DO draw him, and his hat. “ I reckon he got a job lot thirteen years ago and feels he has to wear ’em all out” observes Mr Price.
At half past ten the evening isn’t over yet as we’ve been given tickets for free after-festival drinks at a local tennis and bowling club. It’s difficult to find and ‘someone’ has to refuel at a chippy on the way. Kindly locals try to give us directions and a nice young couple even lead us through the dark suburban streets lined with trees and Victorian villas.
There’s the club, down a drive and, outside and in, it’s a lovely old building dating from 1874. The organisers and volunteers are there, they’re really pleased at what we achieved with the children and with our day’s sketches, too.
And in an ever so humble and self-effacing way, so are we.
A big thank you to everyone for an excellent day!
