Arts Circus

The Arts Circus. That's what I've been working on for the last week.
Here's what I was supposed to do.
1. Get the Cyberbus to various school sites around south Birmingham with a digital artist and a modeller (clay and plasticine) who would get photos of the kids and show them how to warp them in Photoshop. The children would then produce models of fantastical creatures on which to mount the heads using both the actual models with glue and photos of the models with digital splicing.
2. Make sure that things went smoothly with the artists, look after any technical problems and liaise between the artists and staff at the schools.
3. Make a film about the above.
4. Get photos of the above.
5. Get film of Circus Skills training going on with pupils from various schools.
6. Get photos and film of the actual main event which would take place on Saturday 27th.

Here's what I did.
½ of 6.

I knew it would be a disaster when we went out in the Cyberbus the week before and it started to rain. Inside. You see the bus used to be a double decker but it was cut down into a single deck when it was converted to a Cyberbus. Unfortunately it was done in the dark it would seem, as we had to send it back twice before to have leaks repaired. Each time it would come back with a promise that it had been tested thoroughly and that the leaks were a thing of the past. As in this instance this was a bit of a porky-pie.

Monday

So on Monday it was the first day out with the artists. It rained. While I was on the bus just before the first session it started to rain. Big fat drops at the rate of one every two seconds or so, straight down the back of the monitor at which I was working. I hastily shut down the machines and then noticed that many of the stations were dripping wet. One severely miffed phone call later and we had to rearrange the whole thing to take place in one of the buildings. Fortunately this was on the site where I actually work so it was easy enough to arrange as I had the whole place at my disposal. The bus went back to the suppliers with instruction for either it or a suitable replacement to be back and leak free for the session at 10am the next day. No filming or photos done due to running about trying to make it seem like we were fully prepared and in control.

Tuesday

The next day I get a call in my office at 9am telling me that the bus was not going to be there but there were eight laptops and a printer set up in a wireless network waiting to be taken over to the next school where a room had been prepared for us. All I had to do was install Photoshop on all eight machines, get them to the other school, get them set up andrunningg, all in the 45 minutes that i had left before the day's session started. I tried. I actually tried. When I got to the room where the laptops were I found that they weren't actually set up for a wireless network. They had wireless network cards. That had never been installed. In a bag. Near to them.
A quick call to the school we were going to and they told me that I could set up in their 'state of the art' computer suite, using their machines, again leaving me just the task of installing the software for the kids to use. On arrival the state of the art computer room turns out to be running computers built by Fred Flintstone. The Photoshop disc practically laughed as I put it in the drive. Not one of them would run it. The only thing for it was to get the laptops over there and start installing on the fly. So, we get the artists into a room with the kids and get them making models while I drive back to my workplace to pick up the laptops and a few pieces that had been left on the Bus the day before. By the timie I get back and get PS7 installed the artists are looking terrified in a room full of angry six-year-olds chanting "we are bored, we are bored". By the time everything is set up we only get one hour of actual work done. The day ends with more phone calls to the bus people and to my workplace to the people that are supporting me while I'm out to make sure that Wednesday wouldn't be as pointless and embarrassing as the last day two days had been.

Wednesday

Wednesday I arrive at the site du jour with a sense of foreboding approaching depression. I'm greeted with a sight so welcome that it almost makes me fall to my knees. Behold, the Cybertruck is come! The day is a complete doddle. Everything works, everything is where it should be, there is room enough for both a computer group and a modeling group to be onboard at the same time, there is air conditioning and an integral generator. The artists are happy. The kids are happy. The staff at the school are happy. I'm ecstatic. Things are starting to look up. I'm told that we've been given the Cybertruck for the rest of the week and that they've already been and contacted the other schools, had their access assessed and checked that the truck would be ok to get on and off the site. I might even sleep tonight. Oh joy!

Thursday

Thursday I get out of bed with a spring in my step that shouldn't be there (I'd been out with Rachel the night before and accidentally got a lock-in at the pub we were at). Even when I'd driven up and down the same stretch of road for twenty minutes trying to find the entrance to the school I was still humming happily to my self because, hey! I've got a fully working, all-singing, all-dancing Cybertruck, what could go wrong? I decide that I've had enough of being lost and phone back to my workplace to speak to someone about where this place is. When the person I need to speak to answers the phone the first words out of her mouth are "Ah... Matt... Problem".
Bang. The goodness goes out of the day, being lost starts to seem shitty instead of funny and all of a sudden I can taste the beer from the night before a little too much. Turns out that the school doesn't want a Cybertruck, regardless of what tricks it does, they just want us to set some computers up and do the whole thing in one of their rooms. But I can't get into the room just yet as they have a class in there and the school has an OfStEd inspection going on that day and the inspector is at that moment observing that particular class. I can't go back to pick up the laptops because I have to wait for the artists to arrive so i phone back to my work and get somebody to come out and drop the laptops up to me. Fortunately this school is only a five minute drive from where I am based so this shouldn't be a problem. I wait in the car park outside the main entrance for them to arrive.
Forty minutes go by. I can't get an answer from anyone by phone. Not even the switchboard at my place.
The artists arrive.
Forty more minutes go by. I still can't get an answer from anyone.
The artists storm off in a huff - going to voice their displeasure to the organisers of the arts fair.
I go inside to see if I can use a phone in reception, only to be told that the laptops had arrived half an hour before and are waiting upstairs. They'd come in by another entrance and hadn't even bothered to call me. I explain the situation to the class teacher saying that the artistswilll hopefully return soon and start setting up in a room that is now full of bored teenagers (the only sort) whilst constantly dialling my work to find someone to scream at. I finally get through to my place and I'm put through to the organiser of the Arts Circus who is on site for a meeting. She tells me that the two artists have gone off in high dudgeon and are not coming back that day. I look over at the staring Midwich Cuckoos and the teacher who has a look on her face that screams "you're on your own, you pointless muppet".
At this point I'm looking for the hidden cameras and Jeremy fucking Beadle.
The three thoughts going through my mind at this point are these:
1. I'm asleep and dreaming all this. Soon I will wake up all sweaty like in the films.
2. I'm going to strangle someone.
3. I already look like a prize prick, I might as well try to salvage something.
So I end up opening my mouth to say something and the only thing that I can think of is "I'll do it".
So I end up having to do the whole thing myself, except that I have no modelling clay or plasticine so i have to do it just on the laptops. Good job I had my camera with me. Still, the kids actually enjoy it and smile once or twice. Go home and scream loudly in lounge then go straight to the pub to meet Lovely Jane and Latex Charlie (she makes it, she wears it, she loves it).

Friday

Friday sees the return of the truck, thank god, but we find ourselves in a primary school (or kindergarten, if you're american). By this time I'm into a routine. The artists haven't arrived by the time the first group gets there so I put on my best teacher voice and explain what we are going to do to 24 four and five year-olds. They seem enthusiastic. So I go round and take a close up picture of each of them (still enthusiastic) and load them onto the computers ready for warpnig. The first computer I go to, I get the kid's image onto the screen straight from the camera and he just bursts into tears. We haven't even done anything to his face yet - it's just a picture of him - but he's inconsolable and has to be removed from the truck. I have a premonition of being run out of town after people see me with a camera and 24 crying children running off my truck.
Fortunately the rest of them seem a little more stable and actually have fun. The artists arrive and at this point I get a phone call reminding me that I am supposed to be producing a programme of events to be handed out at the big Arts Circus day the following day and I'll need to get that sorted by the end of that day. Another late one then.
The little treasures leave the truck that afternoon. My ears are ringing form all the noise and there is a faint smell of wee that worries me. Some of the seats feel a little damp. Or I may be imagining that . I don't want to investigate too closely.
That night I foolishly go to the Rainbow with Rachel and The Kev. Foolish for two reasons.
1. The following day I have to work.
2. Whenever I go to the Rainbow I invariably fall out of there at around 3:30-4:00am

Saturday

Saturday, feeling worse for wear and cursing my own stupidity I make my way to the site of the Arts Circus lie a man going to his own execution. It's my last day with the two artists and I'm wondering what else can go wrong. Well, we'll start with the fact that they were expecting to have their display in a small tent and they end up as the only display in a cavernous hall where their efforts have little impact and no visitors. Then there's the fact that they asked for a smoke machine and got one. Unfortunately they actually wanted a dry ice machine. The difference is this: when they turn on a dry ice machine by theirexhibitionn you get that tumbling, heavy mist, witches cauldron style. When you turn on a smoke machine you get thick, billowing, voluminous smoke.
In fact here is a picture of the result they got.



At this point the artists did another disappearing act, never to be seen again. Strangely, the rest of the Arts Circus was a roaring success and went very well for all involved. Maybe it was all my fault. You can see some of the photos form Saturday by clickinkg the Maffu's Photos link on the right.