The Art Fair | Cozy Bedtime Story with Scottish Narrator

Hey Jeffrey here and welcome back to Night Falls. Who pifed a wonderful day and are all cozy for a peaceful night's sleep.

I've got a quick favor to ask if you're enjoying the show please do share us with friends and family. We need your support to help the show grow and hopefully we can help them to a better night's sleep. A genuinely believed that we're all creative at heart, whatever form that may take, singing, dancing, writing, painting, sculpting, there's an artist within each of us.

It's only a question of whether that artist is awake or in a deep sleep.

For example, it's so wonderful to see children express themselves with such freedom and sadly growing up means we often cover that creativity. I'm definitely on a mission to reaway can my artist, even if only singing in the shower or dancing in the kitchen. Tonight we're journeying to the sleepy village of Upper Haxton, where the inhabitants are engaging with their creativity and entries are arriving for the much anticipated art fair. Some villagers have made ceramics and some have experimented with more abstract works.

“There's so much on show, but who will win the competition for best peace?”

Before we begin, here's the quick ad break that keeps this free content possible. To go add free, subscribe, via the link in the show notes. You know those nights when everything goes quiet, but your mind doesn't. When your thoughts just keep circling and it feels like there's something you need to get off your chest, but you're not quite sure where to start.

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Alright, now back to Night Falls. In so many villages surround Great Britain, there are certain treasured traditions and events that happen every year, like a huge glowing bonfire for Guy Fogsnight or a bustling harvest festival to celebrate all the food grown on the land.

“In Upper Hexton, many of these kinds of events occur annually, but there was also something else that happened once a year. The March Fair.”

It was certainly a highlight of the calendar for everyone in Upper Hexton, the perfect thing for those chilly spring months when the mornings are still dark, and summer can still feel so far away.

The fair was run by Mr. and Mrs. Lanax, and the couple had arranged it ever since they'd retired 10 years ago. They were good team. Mrs. Lanax would be the first to admit that she was a stickler for the rules. She loved organizing the posters in general promotion, as well as making sure the tables and chairs were arranged just to her liking.

“She took great delight in taking things off her to do list.”

In contrast to his wife, Mr. Lanax was a little bit more disorganized, but he always came up with the best ideas that made the fair extra special on the day.

The fair had a different theme every year. Whatever it was, there were a few constant. It was always held on the last Saturday in March, and it was always held in the stone-built village hall, which was the perfect blank space for any kind of event. Once the fair was over, there were always lots and lots of homemade scons to eat. Mrs. Lanax's speciality, and it was always a competition of sorts because Mrs. Lanax was very competitive.

“No one could forget when she trained for the parents' agony spoon race at the school for weeks and weeks.”

Although the fair was one of the few events she didn't compete in, she always joined Mr. Lanax as a judge.

They judged plenty of fairs for various things. One year, it was a pad fair, but there had been a pesky escaped budgie that had taken hours to catch, and everyone agreed that it would be best if animals were not involved in the future. Every year, the fair was something adults and children alike looked forward to. It always brought everyone from the village together, especially as the gossip amongst them loved to speculate what the theme might be. Mr. Lanax had an idea for the theme that year. Often his ideas came to him when he least expected it, like a sudden lightning bolt, and he would shout out for Mrs. Lanax before the spart of inspiration slipped away.

This one came when he saw children with chalk creating pictures on the pavement with big fluffy clouds and tall castles. "An out fair," he said. "It made perfect sense when he considered the idea further. There had been a steady increase of interest in crafts around the town with ceramics classes and some beginners photography workshops. Up in the hills." He'd spotted Anika Jones out by the river painting a watercolour, and she'd said that lots of people were enjoying flexing their creative muscles.

He'd mulled over this idea for a while at the time, but it hadn't clicked as an idea for the fair until he'd seen the children with the chalk. It made perfect sense. Upper Hexton was an inspiring place with its rolling hills and thick purple hadder. Mrs. Lanax had been thinking about what the fair should be, too, and should be quite taken with Saskia Barnes's splendid carrots and the orange cake, which had been served up at the church hall fate earlier that year.

There was always a brilliant selection for any kind of bake sale.

“When she suggested a baking fair to Mr. Lanax though, he was adamant that an art fair would be better.”

Imagine the next big thing could be an upper Hexton, and there was so much talent in the village. It would be one huge competition. It would be marvelous. Mrs. Lanax looked at how excited her husband was with some amusement, and then she nodded. So it was agreed. Upper Hexton would hold its first-ever art fair, and their soon became a real buzz around the news.

Mr. and Mrs. Lanax couldn't believe the enthusiasm as they walked around the streets.

They gleaned that many villagers had dug out all these holes and pains, and someone to the art shop to buy more supplies. Everyone was talking about the fair, and the school gates, in the queue for the butchers, and in the village pub.

“It was easy to recruit plenty of volunteers to help out with all the preparation. Everyone wanted to be involved in some way or another.”

Mr. and Mrs. Lanax were very excited to judge the fair, both at very different tastes when it came to art. Mrs. Lanax appreciated a good still life, whereas Mr. Lanax was a big fan of photography. There was much debate over who would be on the judging panelist the third member, and in the end, they decided to ask an art teacher from the local school, Caroline Loman. She had lots of experience and a good eye. Caroline was delighted to be asked and volunteered to donate a prize from her collection of supplies, beautiful sets of brushes and some oil pastels.

The donation was very generous, and Lanax's couldn't wait to award it to the best entry.

“Once they agreed on the basics, the rest came together quickly.”

The couple spent days putting up posters everywhere, with the date and time to encourage entries. It was the talk of the town, an art fair, every age, every medium. Many of the villagers started to think about what jobs they could help with. Mr. and Mrs. Lanax's daughter, Lily, was the caretaker at the local school, and she was a dab hand at creating different displays. Lily knew this would be the best solution for the artwork.

Everyone agreed it should look as professional as possible, and there was lots of help with framing from Mr. Morris in the local hardware shop. The day before, many villagers gathered to drop their art off. It was all arranged. Smaller pieces like ceramics went on the tables, and lots of the paintings could easily go up on the walls, and on the bespoke display equipment, Lily had built. The competition would be anonymous, so there would be no label stating who had done what.

Just an entry number next to each piece, so the beach could be judged as fairly as possible. To make it especially fair, there would be a category for the under five. There was so much to do before the big day, and the atmosphere in the town was electric.

Finally, the morning of the fair arrived, and it was that crisp springtime weather that was ever so inspiring.

The sky was bright blue, and the air smelled fresh. It was the perfect Saturday for a fair. Mr. Mrs. Lanix had been up for hours putting the final touches to the hall. It looked fantastic inside, and all the artwork was carefully placed. Plus, there was plenty of bunting. Whatever the theme was for the fair, Mrs. Lanix's rainbow colored bunting came out of the attic for the occasion.

Mrs. Crombe had agreed to deal with people coming in and out, so she sat there under a big homemade sign that said, "Uper hexton aren't fair."

“Jasper Carrons turned up early with all his equipment. He'd been a professional artist, and years ago he had sold his watercolors across the world.”

Now he was retired, but he wasn't about to enter the art fair. There was no particular rule that said he couldn't, and indeed, the Lanix's had hesitated to add many stipulations for entry, but he felt it wouldn't be right.

He did want to get involved, though. He told the Lanix's that he wanted to volunteer to do some live sketching, as people came in.

He would draw caricatures and hand them out. They only took a few minutes each, and he could create a brilliant, albeit not particularly flattering likeness for each visitor.

“The event began, and Mr. and Mrs. Lanix walked around.”

People watched them with reverence. After all, they were the judges, and Mr. Lanix felt a swell of pride, as he looked at what the village had achieved, as they'd come together for the set-up. There were so many pictures of the hills in many different media, lots of pastels, and some watercolors. You could tell the villagers had been out at all sorts of times to capture the sunsets and sunrises. Mrs. Lanix spotted Kathy Reynolds over by the door. She was trying to be helpful by cleaning away a selection of red tea pots.

“Mrs. Lanix sweeped over, and discreetly pointed out the entry number next to a spout.”

You see, the tea pots were a sculpture, though she could understand how Kathy had gotten a little muddled up. Kathy blushed and put them back carefully in the arrangement they'd been in before. Luckily, no one had noticed a thing. Mrs. Lanix winked at Kathy. "We'll just keep it to ourselves," she whispered. After the tea pot incident had been quickly resolved, Kathy skipped away happily to look at the rest of the art, and Mr. and Mrs. Lanix continued their judging.

The judging took forever. The judges went around all the different pictures, going close, and standing far back to assess each work. Mr. Lanix was trying not to imagine which resident of Upper Hexton had done well, he was trying to view the art on its own merit.

They had decided early on, led by Caroline, that they would first consider the general creativity of the piece, and then look at the skill and technique used.

Good Mr. and Mrs. Lanix found this a bit more difficult as they weren't experts. Then they would think about originality. Finally, it was just how it made them feel that got instant the Mr. Lanix had been hankering for. Each category would be judged out of ten and added together to give a final score which would determine the winner. Caroline produced some pencils and some small clipboards for ease. She passed them out to the Lanixes, and they went around filling in their judging sheets. Mrs. Lanix had to try hard not to laugh, as she could see people peering serapticiously over her shoulder, trying to make out what she'd written.

Mr. Lanix did in the ceramic section. There was a beautiful selection of pieces that had been entered. He was surprised that so many people were this talented with clay, but Mrs. Lanix reminded him that there was a thriving pottery class in the village, so it was to be expected. She whispered that everyone had been jostling to squeeze in a session to use the kiln right up until the day before the fair. Mr. Lanix's favourite piece was in the middle of the hall on a plinth. It was a ceramic octopus and the tendrils had been painted in a gentle shimmering glaze that looked blue, green, and even purple as the light changed.

He noted the number of the entry and looked down at his clipboard. He was tempted to give it full marks in every category.

“It felt like it would be the highest scoring piece for him, and he couldn't even quite put his finger on why he was so taken with it.”

Mrs. Lanix liked the octopus well enough, and she could appreciate the skill to create that kind of piece without the tendrils cracking off in the kiln, but she was keener on a painting.

Just like Mr. Lanix, she had been surprised by what had ended up being her favourite piece of art. She had fully expected it to be a still life, and there were some super ones on display.

But in the end, it was an abstract picture that took her breath away. From a distance, it looked like a large black canvas. But when Mrs. Lanix moved closer, she could see it was so many different shades of black, and there were dark grays and silvers, tiny flags all over.

It was stunning, and Mrs. Lanix could hardly look away. Her hand wavered over her clipboard, and she was almost tempted to give it full marks in every category.

“It seemed to her to be such an unusual captivating piece. "That really has quite marvellous," Caroline said. "I think it might be my favourite," Mrs. Lanix said.”

"But look at this," Caroline said, and she led Mrs. Lanix to the other side of the hall, along with Mr. Lanix. They walked over to the drawing section. There was already a small crowd gathered, around a particular piece. It was tiny. "I think I might know who this is by," Caroline said quietly. "But it really has something." It was a pencil drawing of a cat, and the Lanix's were bold over by it too. It was fantastic.

“The picture of the cat was so detailed, it was like if you reached out, you'd feel it's lovely soft fur. The cat was lying in front of a fire, and its expression was of complete rest.”

"Whoever had drawn the cat, had used so many different colors. There was the bright red of the color, and the inky black fured the nose. The tail was rendered in stripes of white and orange, and the artist had blended in shades of yellow and gold. All three judges were amazed by the sheer talent, and the work was getting much attention from the other visitors too. The judges spent a little longer looking at the pieces. They made sure that every artwork had a final tally, and then it was time to add up all the scores.

This took a while, but eventually the judges finished. Mr. Lanix was in charge of announcing the winner. He asked Caroline Loman to write in an envelope who the winner was based on the number next to the entry, and then he went up to the podium, the Lily Lanix had built especially for the event. He cleared his throat. The winner as announced, number 22, there was low applause. Everyone scanned the room, trying to work out which entry was number 22. It was the cat. All the judges had given it full marks, and agreed that it was an exemplary piece.

The pencil drawing had received so much attention throughout the day, with many villagers commenting on how skillful it was, and what remarkable attention to detail the artist had. Mr. Lanix opened the envelope to reveal the name, and the winner as Cassie Lane, he called out. Cassie Lane was in the front row, and her mouse opened wide. She hardly knew what to say. Everyone was clapping for her, and her mum, who sat beside her, arched her to get up, and go up to the podium.

Caroline gave her a wink, and Cassie realized her art teacher had known it was hers the entire time.

“She walked up, and Mr. Lanix looked at her kindly. "Well done, Cassie," he said. "This piece is absolutely fantastic. How long did it take you?"”

Cassie had been working on the picture of her cat for weeks, and weeks. Ever since the art fair had been announced, it had been all she'd been able to think about.

She was suddenly very nervous standing up there in front of everyone, and she could feel her hands start to shake.

Then she looked up at Mr. Lanix, and he smiled kindly. "Don't be nervous," he said. He handed her the prize, and the small trophy.

“Second was the magnificent ceramic octopus by Latisha Graves, and she came up and received her prize of a voucher from the local pub. And third place was the Sublime abstract painting by Archie Trompton. He got a silver fountain pen.”

Then it's the under-five winner, too, which was Teddy Hughes. He'd made a collage of leaves, collected and dried from around the village. His prize was a set of crayons, and he toppled up sweetly to collect them. With the prizes awarded, it was time for the cream tea. Mrs. Lanix gathered some of the villagers, and they moved the tables into the hall center. Mrs. Lanix and her team of helpers laid out many mismatched tea pots and milk jugs. Lots of people in the village had scoured the charity shops in the neighboring towns, for all these bits and pieces, in the weeks before the art fair, to create the perfect tea party.

They brought over pretty floral tea cups and saucers, as well as knives and forks. Lily Lanix added bright pink vases filled with daffodils and crocuses. These blooms gave a final celebratory touch to the table's cape. After everything was laid out, Mrs. Lanix served up big plates of warm scons. She'd got an up extremely early that morning to big a few batches. There were lemon and blueberry scons, raspberry white chocolate ones, and peach and vanilla ones, which she hadn't been quite sure about, but it turned out to be the overall favourite combination.

Mrs. Lanix was delighted to see everyone tucking into their tea with gusto and talking about the art. The pieces that inspired them and the things they had found interesting, moving or even controversial. It was lovely to enjoy the scons with all the entries sitting around them, and the villagers continued to look up to enjoy the art while they ate.

“"You know what, dear?" she said softly to Mr. Lanix as he reached for a third scone. "I think you were right. This has been one of the best fares we've ever done."”

"It's been super, hasn't that?" said Mr. Lanix. "Just as everyone finished their cups of tea, the pattern of rain started on the roof. It was a gentle sign. The Mrs. Lanix sat there in her chair, listening to the rain, and the soft hum of conversation around them from all the people she knew in the village. Mr. and Mrs. Lanix were exhausted by the time the day drew to a close, and the rain began.

But it was that satisfying sense of restful happiness that they always got, and they spent time with the community.

The day was drawing to an end, and outside the afternoon was beginning to turn to evening. Lots of people stayed back to help, and they packed away all the chairs.

Everyone had taken away their art. Many people were saying how they might take up watercolors, ceramics, or photography.

“Some of the villagers were also interested in buying some of the pieces.”

Then the hall began to empty out. Lily Lanix came in and dismantled the podium, and all the art displays extremely quickly. "Are you sure you don't need any more help?" she asked her parents.

"Oh no dear, you get home," said Mrs. Lanix.

It was dark outside, and the rain was getting heavier.

“The final step was to sweep the village hall, so it was already for the next day when the play group would run.”

Mrs. Lanix started at one end with the brush, singing softly to herself, and the hall was a little echoey now that everyone had laughed.

Mr. Lanix was at the other end of the hall, and he took the brush, and swept slowly, and carefully,

feeling the brush ball against the wooden floor, and he let his mind wander, thinking of all the art he'd seen that day. He let his concentrations slowly move over the different pieces. Not thinking too hard about any one entry, but considering all the colours of the day. He fell into a rhythmic sweep, and the colours of the octopus swept through his mind,

making him feel so content.

“We'll leave our story there for tonight, a sense of community's gorgeous isn't it?”

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