Instant Art
We spent another evening in the company of our old friend, art. Cornerhouse decided that what it really needed to brighten this cold November was a Night of Art. We couldn’t agree more. Which surely can mean only one thing: a Sketch-O-Matic. I jumped to the conclusion that this would be a giant Etch-A-Sketch. I […]
We spent another evening in the company of our old friend, art. Cornerhouse decided that what it really needed to brighten this cold November was a Night of Art. We couldn’t agree more.
Which surely can mean only one thing: a Sketch-O-Matic. I jumped to the conclusion that this would be a giant Etch-A-Sketch. I envisaged rows of heads bowed into Pacman style cubicles etching out their favourite shapes. I can’t say I was disappointed when I discovered that the O-matic was a man-powered portrait booth, it just didn’t match my expectations.
The booth stood proudly central with a queue snaking all the way to the bar. The source of its power lies in this queue, which hums and thrums with anticipation. Until finally, you reach the painted box and the man with the clipboard takes you’re name and you’re in!
The booth comprises a merry-go-round of sketch-o-maniac pros who work unseen on the artistic side of the box. They offer a range of artistic feats: portraits, poetry, or caricature. Then, you enter the mysterious portal, with a friend or solo. A two-way mirror awaits, along with a very British silence. We were unsure how to proceed; I managed a wave, but didn’t want to disturb the sketcher. Dani chatted and slurped her way through her time in the booth and was received a crackin’ goaty on her sketch as a reward.
The experience was a cross between an unsociable ghost train ride and a police ‘interview’ room. There is a specific type of awkwardness that arises from being watched from an unseen source, whilst trying to avoid eye contact, with yourself.
But then the thrill of the party bag took over, burying the memory instantly. Out churned an original product-o-sketch to take home, a unique portrait of us to cherish the memory.
The booth was central, literally, to the evening. It was the flashy wooden attraction to reel in the crowds. Around it, there orbited not too much else – a chance to see the Rashid Rana exhibition, a photography book talk. Most of all a chance to lay down some dollar at the bar. The art of the Art Night works to attract the crowds with its bright colours, setting the culture in its new context of nighttime and its escapades. But, why not? It’s just a pub with better wallpaper.
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