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 didnât expect was just how much people would connect with my cartoons.
As a former BBC journalist and long-time cartoonist, Iâve always believed humour can open doors that other forms of art sometimes canât. 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: âI have to say, this is incredibly clever. You can really tell youâve been a journalist. Thereâs a depth here. Youâre not just making jokes, youâre actually interpreting whatâs happening in the world. That âethically sourced missileâ cartoon is funny, but also uncomfortable in a good way. Because itâs true, isnât it? Nobody really questions these things when theyâre happening far away⊠until theyâre not.â
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: âThis one made me laugh straight away. Itâs so accurate itâs 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. Youâve captured something we all experience but never quite put into words. Itâs comforting in a strange wayt. Yes, weâre all dealing with the same chaos!â
Moments like that reminded me how powerful shared experiences can be, especially when theyâre 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: âIâll be mum.â âIâll be dad.â âIâll be the divorce lawyer.â She burst out laughing, and said: âThis is brilliant. Itâs so simple, but it says so much about modern life. Itâs funny, but thereâs a real truth behind it."
What struck me most throughout the fair was how much time people spent with my work. They werenât 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 Iâll remember for a long time. âYour cartoons make me smile but more than that, they make me think. Itâs rare to find something that does both so effortlessly. In a room full of beautiful paintings, this feels different. It feels alive, like itâs having a conversation with you.â
Thereâs a long-standing joke that cartoonists are the âchiropodists of the art worldâ... often overlooked. But at this fair, that couldnât have been further from the truth. People didnât 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 arenât just looking to see art, theyâre looking to feel something. And in todayâs 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 thatâs 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, thatâs what itâs all about.
Because sometimes, the most powerful thing art can do is make someone stop, smile, and think.