It's not my baby any more, and initially I had no intention of exhibiting (as it would require at least a modicum of making), but Claire gently pushed me to share a table and, like a foldy thing (a deckchair, perhaps?), I folded and said yes. As the Holden Gallery was no longer available for the fair, it took itself under the shade of the Design Manchester umbrella, and last weekend we ended up in the Old Fire Station on London Road along with Manchester Print Fair and a handful of other workshops, food and drink suppliers etc.
The venue was quite something - ornate pillars and tiled walls (including some ?art nouveau tiles), all painted a very improbable blue but with enough peeling areas to hint at what's underneath, and a floor of various paving arrangements presumably indicating the usage of the areas. Chilly, too - one of those places where you venture outside to get warm - and there was always the possibility that one of the pigeons that flew in from time to time might decorate the artists' books at our end and/or (they are notoriously generous in some regards) the prints at the other end. As far as I'm aware it didn't happen - surely we'd have heard the cries of anguish. A triangular courtyard was host to the food and drink elements, which led to more anxiety at times as the occasional drinker brought in his flexible beer glass and gently bounced along to the music. Again, I don't think there were any actual disasters.
The whole building has been sold, and I heard various stories as to what it's going to be, but I'm happy enough to wait and see. It would be nice to think that the book fair et al might get another chance to be there next year, though thicker socks might be in order.
The whole building has been sold, and I heard various stories as to what it's going to be, but I'm happy enough to wait and see. It would be nice to think that the book fair et al might get another chance to be there next year, though thicker socks might be in order.
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