Each day of the Symposium kicks off with a morning briefing to make sure everyone’s up to speed on what matters. Then we cross the road to the park to find our volunteer guides for the day’s workshops.
I had two workshops back to back: Andrew James’ “draw like your drunk uncle dances” and Peter Rush’s “boxes of energy.” They could not have been more different. The first was all about distortion and bold lines using a thick marker. The second focused on tight, deliberate pencil sketches.
Both tutors ran their sessions with clarity and care. Andrew’s background as a science communicator really showed. He helped us loosen up, see shapes differently, and let go of perfection. He nurtured us into bending and stretching the world into bold, energetic, meaningful lines.
Peter was just as prepared. His materials alone were inspiring: intricately drawn urban scenes of street furniture and signage sketched on the backs of cereal boxes. Recreating even a fraction of his style was a serious challenge. At one point he said he suffered for his art. When I joked after our session that we had suffered too, having had to sit on the cold pavement for hours he laughed and said we didn’t know the meaning of suffering.
One frustrating thing that happened that day was the theft of my collection of New Zealand cereal boxes. I had them in a brown paper shopping bag under my chair during a symposium lecture. At first I told myself it must have been picked up by mistake. But by the end of the symposium, it still hadn’t been returned to the info desk.
I was really shaken and annoyed. Not just because I’d lost my surfaces to draw on for Peter’s workshop, but because all my bull dog clips and magnetic clips were attached to that bag. Those tools are an essential part of sketching outside. Thankfully, Peter had a few spare boxes to share, so I could still take part.