😄 Cartoons that made Altrincham smile: My experience at the Easter Art Fair 😄

Post date: 09-April-2026

If you had asked me what I expected from the Altrincham Society of Artists Fair, I would have said paintings, prints, good conversation, and maybe a slice of cake. And yes, all of that was there at the Unitarian Church Hall in Altrincham along with a warm, welcoming atmosphere that makes local art fairs so special.

But what I didn’t expect was just how much people would connect with my cartoons.

As a former BBC journalist and long-time cartoonist, I’ve always believed humour can open doors that other forms of art sometimes can’t. Still, nothing quite prepares you for seeing that happen in real time. It was fascinating to watch people stop, read, smile, laugh, and then stay to talk.

Throughout the fair, I had so many meaningful and memorable conversations with visitors. One gentleman stood for quite a while studying a series of my political cartoons before turning to me and saying: “I have to say, this is incredibly clever. You can really tell you’ve been a journalist. There’s a depth here. You’re not just making jokes, you’re actually interpreting what’s happening in the world. That ‘ethically sourced missile’ cartoon is funny, but also uncomfortable in a good way. Because it’s true, isn’t it? Nobody really questions these things when they’re happening far away… until they’re not.”

That stayed with me, because it captured exactly what I try to do. I use humour not just to entertain, but to gently provoke thought.

Another visitor, Sheila, smiled as she looked at my Manchester weather cartoon and said: “This one made me laugh straight away. It’s so accurate it’s almost ridiculous. We really did have all four seasons in one day recently! Sunshine, then rain, then wind, then snow and then back to sunshine again. You’ve captured something we all experience but never quite put into words. It’s comforting in a strange wayt. Yes, we’re all dealing with the same chaos!”

Moments like that reminded me how powerful shared experiences can be, especially when they’re reflected back with a bit of humour.

One of the most memorable reactions came from a woman who stood in front of a cartoon showing children playing. She read the captions aloud: “I’ll be mum.” “I’ll be dad.” “I’ll be the divorce lawyer.” She burst out laughing, and said: “This is brilliant. It’s so simple, but it says so much about modern life. It’s funny, but there’s a real truth behind it."

What struck me most throughout the fair was how much time people spent with my work. They weren’t rushing past. They were reading every word, taking in every line, and often chuckling quietly to themselves before moving on, or coming back again for a second look.

One visitor summed it up in a way I’ll remember for a long time. “Your cartoons make me smile but more than that, they make me think. It’s rare to find something that does both so effortlessly. In a room full of beautiful paintings, this feels different. It feels alive, like it’s having a conversation with you.”

There’s a long-standing joke that cartoonists are the “chiropodists of the art world”... often overlooked. But at this fair, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. People didn’t just notice the cartoons. They engaged with them, connected with them, and celebrated them.

In a space filled with landscapes, still lifes, and intricate compositions, humour created its own kind of gravity. It drew people in and held them there.

The fair itself was a joy. There were over 20 talented artists, a steady flow of visitors, and of course, the ever-popular homemade cakes and coffee. It was less about competition and more about collaboration, about sharing creativity and supporting one another. That spirit made the experience even more meaningful.

What I realised by the end of it all is that people aren’t just looking to see art, they’re looking to feel something. And in today’s world, where so much feels heavy and uncertain, the simple act of making someone smile carries real value.

Not everyone bought a piece of my work, and that’s absolutely fine. Because many people walked away with something just as important -- a moment of laughter, a spark of recognition, or a new way of looking at the world.

And for me, that’s what it’s all about.

Because sometimes, the most powerful thing art can do is make someone stop, smile, and think.