Issue 84 March 2015
2 Front and back covers have been selected from the entries for the MAvAS Trophy
Front cover this issue is from “World’s First Aircraft Carier" by Steve Kerry
Editorial Hello and welcome. Our society is constantly in a state of flux, old members retire new members join. New materials and methods are tried, methods of working need redefining, the constitution needs a tweak. Society officers change, and our meeting room is moved and car parking needs a rethink. By the time you read these words the AGM has taken place and new officers have hopefully been appointed and access to the admin room sorted out. We need to renew our commitment to our society and keep calm and carry on painting. Happy painting, Dave
Rear Cover Images, Setting Off - Cuxhaven Raid by C. G. Taylor and “Lohner Type M - Duino Castle” by P. W. Grove
Ps but as an old artist said to me “If you find painting is calming and relaxing - you are doing something wrong - bin it.” Pps. Richard Jackson’s article is a moving testament that should really have been in the mag before the D-Day competition, when I am sure some of the emotion would have enhanced our work.
If any member has an objection to the Society holding Membership records on a computer and using the information for society purposes deemed suitable by the Committee, eg; the production and distribution of a membership list, please notify the Editor
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Contents The Scars of Normandy Never Heal. Richard Jackson looks back.
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The February Workshop with Steve Abbott and lot of soluble coloured pencils.
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February Meeting, The Mavas Trophy for WW1 Naval Aviation.
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Featuring Member Wayne Leeming
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Rob Knotts Looks at Humans, Often a Neglected 17 Element in Aviation Art Sadly an Obituary Page
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A Celebration of Aviation Art from 2014
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News Round
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Diary Dates - keep up to date
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The Scars of Normandy Never Heal By Richard Jackson To go back to Normandy had become an obsession over the many years, for the impact of those beach-head days had seared a scar across the surface of memory, a scar which divided for always that which went before and that which followed. Of only ten weeks duration, it draws one’s thoughts to its beginning and along its length to its end. Constantly todays become yesterday as the mind is sent speeding back at a sound, a word, or a name. It will always be so, for , in those terrifying and primitive rounds of destruction that heralded liberation, defeat, victory, and brought involuntary sacrifice of life, youth had been disintegrated to manhood exacted. One must return, if only to soften a little this nagging which breaks momentarily, but regularly, into conscious thinking, crossing the chasm of years between the present and the other pinnacle of yesterday, hoping to find a moment in time when the soul searching cease. Ships as far as the eye can see A wife and daughters for their first holiday aboard. Excitedly they look forward to their first sea voyage, but for the wife , who senses the emotional nature of this pilgrimage, it too is a journey into the past.
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The sun is shinning as it had done then, but the sea and the sky are empty save for the tanker crossing the wake. Is this the sea that carried the thousands in procession as the eye could see? Is this the sky that throbbed with the multitudinous sounds of death on the wing? It had been so long ago, and a sea is a sea and sky a sky, and the sea and sky of that morning will not be seen again. The ship ploughs on, with its passengers lounging in the sun and children playing around its decks. They are not packed in and there is no fear, for the sea and the sky are empty, and the land beckons welcome on the horizon. There is no death in this land to which they excitedly point, no smoke writhes upwards to the heavens, no flashes spit hate into their faces. They are eager to explore its mysteries and they do not hide their eyes in dread. The ramp drops slowly to give exit for the cargo of cars, caravans and holidaymakers. They file ashore in orderly fashion, to the directions of the officer in charge. He does not shout or scream, nor do they curse their day of birth. There is no carnage to greet them, there is no reluctance to move forward, and their path ashore is not marked by tapes of white. Water does not engulf them, for their landing is dry, and their faces reflect the pleasures they anticipate. They will return, of that there is no doubt, and there is no fear amongst them. When they move on there is nought to show where they have been. Waiting to return are those whose holidays has left them bronzed by the sun. Patiently they queue, until their turn comes to board the ship for its return journey home. They are not helped or carried, for there is no need. They are not bandaged, there are no labels tied, they are not weary, and home is not blighty to them. There is no relief being alive, only regret that their stay is at an end.
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Is this the beach? The sands run easily through the fingers, It is almost empty, this beach under the sun, and its odour is clean. The waves can be heard as they collapse on sand, and there is no torment. But a beach is a beach, and that beach of yesterday will not be seen again. The little girl, with hair piled temporarily on top of her head, runs up the beach while enjoying her ice-cream. Her mother scolds as it melts and drips, for it was a petty dress but now it is messy. The girl attempts to wipe it away then, holding her hand from her, stares at in mock horror, but it is only ice-cream and there is no real fear. She walks unhurriedly back down the beach to paddle, and there is no thumping desperation willing her to move inland from this place, for the beach does not heave, and the only sound is that of the waves. The sea and the sky are empty and this beach is for living. A blue and red sign by the roadside carries the symbol of men from the sky, and this canal bridge is named Pegasus. Words carved into a block of stone standing on the enemy bank tell of those who died for this bridge. Boys fish and girls play, and Pegasus, with wings spread in static flight is not a part of today. The road along the home bank of the River Orne is tarmac now. Dust no longer means death, but now there is no dust, for the surface is tarmac as it rises to meet the road that crosses the second bridge that fell to Pegasus yesterday. At its junction there is a small plot of fresh turned earth with a helmet askew on a makeshift cross of sticks. The ground is not hallowed, and there is no reminder of the inevitability which, for this paratrooper, came sooner than its time. These are the River Orne and the Caen Canal, but the carcasses of gliders, which gutted themselves to disgorge their human load
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after a silent descent, are not here, for they lie by another Orne and another Canal, neither of which will be seen again. Boys fish for their pleasure and they catch only fish. No bloated corpses with the tide, no crosses to make, no ground to hallow, and there is no fear. The river and the canal seem broader now, and the speedboats tow surf riders along their lengths while campers settle near the water’s edge. The young French family take supper before retiring to their tent. The night is still after the heat of the day and the water laps gently against the bank. The dusk does not bring a fury from the sky, and sleep comes easy for there is no nightmare of violence around them. The morning will dawn and they will again enjoy the day, for they will be refreshed. For them, the night and day will not be one in anger. There is no fear and the gently lapping of the water was not heard yesterday. The ditch is spanned by a bridge from another life, and Bailey panels rust. Grass overgrows decking, and the quarry is the site of oil tanks. Was this the place that was cursed and sworn at as pontoons slowly bridged that other Caen canal? “Forward panel party!” “Transoms here!” “Get the pin in and bloody well move!” And above all else the noise of hell and earth. Now the water is empty and the night still, but this bridge over this ditch has known the sweat and the hands of fresh men. It has trembled, as they trembled, and now the panels rust and are red. Gray-su-mer, Reviers, Amblie, St.Aubin D’Arquenay, Ouistreham, Ranville. Name after name are yesterday’s and today. The village of Reviers is quiet but for the column of children, who are led in orderly fashion by their teachers for a trip into the country. Their chatter is occasionally broken by laughter, and the large building which they leave behind is not a hospital for the wounded, but a holiday home for under-privileged children. A women stops and speaks of her work there as a nurse during her beach-head days, then she returns the waves of the children before
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going about her business of today. The sound of the other children singing is carried across from the open windows. They are happy in this Normandy, for no man will bleed or die in this place that is their temporary home. An occasional car or farm vehicle negotiates the crossroads, and the two old men, sitting on the form in front of the cafÊ, puff contentedly at their pipes. The military policeman shows weariness in his every movement, they do not last long at this crossroads. Tanks, armoured cars, lorries and jeeps, he deals with them all, and the enemy has them is his sights. They do not last long at this crossroads, and it has been his duty to long. The two old men raise their hands in greeting as the gendarme stops to pass the time of day. From the cafÊ comes the brazen sound of some coin operated juke box. In the distance a moaning Minnie wails and its salvo is well placed. The signs, the wires of communication and all the paraphernalia of an army at war are scattered and lost in clouds of dust and smoke. They do not last long at this crossroads and other hands will do the duty now. The gendarme turns to answer the tourists’ question. The two old men knock out their pipes and go home for their meal. These are country roads and the traffic needs no directing. The graves of this military cemetery are tended by men who knew war and the comradeship of war. It shows in their work. The rows of white stones stand out in sharp irreverence against the green of the lawns, their numbers inspiring awe, yet by that very fact placing their full meaning beyond the bounds of normal comprehension. The flowers between them, and the information inscribed on each stone are the only individualising features. From the endless ranks of khaki to a plot, a row and a number in that row. These names are as distant as the years, except for those who knew and loved them - and those who saw them die. Memorial panels bear he names of those who found no grave, and these are the only reminders a price paid.
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`Alan Cairns - Plot 14 - Row ‘G; - No 14. This is not where we laid him. The hedge beneath which he fell stands innocently in the sun, its leaves tremble and rustle in the breeze. The gate, the field, and along the road the village of Amblie, are now today. The field bears its corn and the gate is locked. Beneath the hedge the grass is not red nor the vision bloody. Is this the spot, which was the shallow grave of a blanket wrapped ‘Cairnsey?’ There is no cross, and corn grows golden where the eyes of men as young as he secretly shed their tears. In this place there is a Stone. Alan Cairns - Royal Engineers Aged 23. The shock of his dying, our first, is as the shock of yesterday. What reason gave him this lawned plot while I stand and give respect in the only way I know? What would he have made of the years between? Would he have felt his voluntary sacrifice worthwhile? He died, as did all here, in the belief that the children he was never to father would live better lives because of they who had to give that which was Awaiting evacuation most precious. It was not a spoken or even conscious belief, but it was a meaning, a reason that made the lunacy acceptable. Their dying was not done voluntarily, and there was no glory in their dying. They did not part willingly with life, for death was the lot of the other fellow, and death does not come any easier to the young. My daughter, aged eight, calls me to go. Alan would have loved her as he would have his own, he was like that. He would have been happy to know he was remembered by a pal who had journeyed, a lifetime away, along a path that had ended
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for him on that day in June 1944. We shall return home to continue the life he and they left for us. It was not for them to enjoy the peace they had helped to win. It was for our children to enjoy what they made possible, giving their loss some meaning. God bless you Alan. For those who care to look, a stone tells hat you are twenty-three. We have been together again for a little while in this place that is Normandy. I have trod again the beach that you trod and seen the things you saw. They were not pretty then, when fear walked with us. Gone is the barbed wire, the mines and the stench. Here and there stands a gun, a blockhouse, a memento from the past, and everywhere are the memorials. People finger and gaze without emotion at the weapons of war emplanted to stop you, the dead, and we, who lived. The iron, the concrete, and the bullet scarred houses mean nothing now. They revive the memories of we who knew, but they are no longer of the time that saw you die. That was another world in another age. Museums and films may perpetuate the happening and illuminate the glory that was supposed to be, but death for the living is a myth, while for you, the dead, it is an experience. It is your names, not the stones, that are real for us who knew. Thank you for our children and for our children’s children. They will never comprehend the price you paid, nor would you expect them to. These names on stone are youths brought prematurely to manhood and who died involuntarily before their time. Pals, buddies, husbands, sweethearts, brothers and sons. Only we who saw them die can know of the love they had for life, and the fear we shared of death. We enjoyed a comradeship that only war seems to bring, and they died with the comradeship in their hearts. Because of them life is richer than it might have been, and it is their unconscious gift to us all. Have we used the years given to us, and which were lost to them? Have we justified the hopes that are every name upon a stone? Would he, and he and he, be able to say “I am proud to have know the living?� We have years yet to come, pray to God that we use them, for these years, past and future, constitute a lifetime that should have been theirs, a lifetime ago.
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Workshop
7th Feb 2015
Steve Abbott On Using Water Soluble Coloured Pencils This was our first Workshop in the Admin Room and it proved to be light, spacious, and warm. Steve had plenty of room for the incredible range of pencils and ancillary equipment he carries. Steve showed how both graphite and non graphite soluble pencils can be used with brush, sponge, water filled brush and the mark one digit to produce quick backgrounds. He also demonstrated a technique using water soluble pencils to draw a face, leaving in construction lines. The construction lines are then washed out and the surplus colour pushed around to model the features. An enjoyable and instructive day.
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MavAS Trophy Competition.
WW1 Naval Aviation Ten members, plus Adjudicator Ossie Jones, attended tonight`s event which was the MavAS Trophy Competition. This took place in our new venue, the Admin Room on the second floor in the main building opposite Air and Space Hall. We are most grateful to the Management at MOSI for providing this new location for our regular meetings. Sixteen entries were submitted by ten artists to meet the chosen subject “Naval Aviation in World War 1”. The Trophy winner was Peter Nield for his painting entitled, “Caught Napping” – a first effort using entirely alkyd paints. Steve Kerry received a first commendation for his digital art work, “World`s First Aircraft Carrier”, and a second commendation went to Ron Sargeant for his watercolour painting, “Sopwith Baby”. Ossie`s appraisal of the entries covered many general points and, in particular, the treatment of the sea. This was deemed to be a challenging area and members were encouraged to spend time studying the subject in detail. Colin Taylor, Peter Grove, Keith Stancombe and Peter Nield assembled the new works on the panel next day.
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“Caught Napping” By Peter Nield
“World`s First Aircraft Carrier” By Steve Kerry
“Sopwith Baby” By Ron Sargeant
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Jutland
by D. Bates
Middle East Evening
by D. Bates
Lohner Type M - Duino Castle by P.W. Grove
Felixstowe F.2 by C. Jones Sopwith Baby by P.W, Grove Channel Patrol by S. Kerry Digital print
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Coming in Camel by R. Sargeant
Setting Off - Cuxhaven Raid by C. G. Taylor
Short 184 by R. Sargeant
First Successful Deck Landing by K. Stancombe
Ben-my-Chree and Baby by R. Sargeant
Short and Tender by T. Jones Short 184 by R. Rumbold
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Wayne Leeming Caught the aviation bug when I was around 9 years old. Went plane spotting at Manchester airport in the late seventies then joined the "Star Liners" who were a group of aviation enthusiasts who planned trips to air shows and airports all over the country. This involved a behind the scenes look at what was in the hangers. It was much later before I started painting aircraft. My initial way back into art following a number of years lapse after leaving school was drawing and painting people’s pets. I was introduced to the Aviation Art Society through a friend who knew one of the members, Jim Turner. It was from there that I started attending and painting using more mediums mainly acrylics and oils. In more recent years, I have been commissioned to paint motorbikes and racing cars which has been a different challenge I've thoroughly enjoyed.
HUMANS
– 17ALL TOO NEGLECTED IN AVIATION ART
OFTEN
says Rob Knotts While I love viewing aircraft paintings I always have a feeling that something is missing, particularly in paintings of modern aircraft. Shapes, shadows colour and texture have to contribute to the artwork. Clouds, the underlying land and weather conditions can add to the scene. However, an aircraft is a mechanical object and what is frequently lacking in aviation artwork is the human element. People operate aircraft, travel in them and maintain them; it is this vast expanse of human interface that I view is all too often neglected. Emotions, stance, clothing and actions all form part of the work that is needed to portray essential human participation in the world of aviation. Dame Laura Knight’s painting entitled “Take Off” serves to illustrate the point. It shows the interior of a Short Stirling bomber with four of its seven man crew preparing for take-off on a bombing mission. Two pilots sit in the cockpit, the navigator busies himself with his maps and the Flight Engineer, bearing the insignia of a Flight Sergeant, adjusts a control. Essential teamwork is portrayed. Concentration is evident while experience is captured, if by nothing more than the rank of the Flight Engineer – he is no novice. The professional expression captured on his face doubtless quells the inner feelings of tension experienced in facing the mission. Take Off (Dame Laura Knight, 1943)
Detail prevails in a way not demanded in painting the smooth contours of an aircraft. Folds in clothing, the way the parachute harnesses are captured, the hugging of the Mae West life jackets to the heavily clothed bodies coupled with the detail of items such as switches, instruments, pencil and dividers all add to the intricate work needed in capturing the scene.
18 picture came from viewing the interior of Dame Laura said that her inspiration for the the aircraft just before it took off one night. She decided to paint the crew in the aircraft getting ready for take-off, adding that it was the most difficult task she has ever set herself. Comments made to her by the crew included "you seemed that night as if you saw more than we could see." Dame Laura could see more than a few lads joking and apparently making light of a hazardous enterprise.
Reference: “Take off” by Dame Laura Knight, 1943, Imperial War Museum, Catalogue number Art.IWM ART LD 3834, http://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/15505 Gil Cohen's painting of ‘Rosie and his Riveters’ offers a remarkable portrayal of leadership in the last minute briefing by the captain of a 10 man crew on a damp morning somewhere in East Anglia in England before they board their B-17 of the 418th Squadron. “Rosie and His Riveters” (Gil Cohen) The briefing scene captures leadership and responsibility. Five crew members are plainly attentive. Others show some distraction by activities such as checking the time, adjusting a harness, one gazing at the ground while one officer seems to be looking the crew over. Nevertheless the atmosphere is one of taking it all in with the aim of getting the job done. Detailed attention to clothing and equipment far exceeds the work needed to portray the aircraft. Robert "Rosie" Rosenthal was the captain of that aircraft. Following this briefing thirteen B-17s took off for a bombing mission over Munster … but only one returned aptly named "Rosie's Riveters" - full of holes and flying on two engines.
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RAAF Kittyhawk, Milne Bay, Papua New Guinea in 1942 (William Dargee) We move to painting by an Australian artist, William Dargee. The scene portrays a Royal Australian Air Force Kittyhawk Squadron at Milne Bay in Papua New Guinea in September 1942. The Curtiss P-40 E model Kittyhawk fighter aircraft is visible on the left hand side of the painting with a figure on its wing acting as a lookout for obstacles as it is taxiing over perforated steel plates, portrayed with great detail, laid over the mud. The standing figure in the foreground is generally taken by aircrew members who have seen the picture to be their Commanding Officer (CO). The seated figure alongside him represents an Intelligence Corporal. One man is manoeuvring a steel fuel drum while another is prying open a wooden crate. A third is moving a steel box while a fourth seems to be looking at map. Another man is possibly driving a vehicle, boxes shield it from view. Heavy rain has recently fallen judging by the mud and pools of water shown. One can imagine a humid heat contributing to general discomfort. Detail from exertion of the two men with the fuel drum and box to the communication between the CO and the Corporal offer two focal points of human activity. Meanwhile the man sat on the wing tip seems to be relaxed and is doubtless cooled by the breeze generated by the taxiing aircraft. Reference: Australian War Memorial Painting by William Bargee, “RAAF Kittyhawk Squadron at Milne Bay, August-September 1942�, http://www.awm.gov.au/collection/ART27628/
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War artists have long captured aspects of military campaigns. Territorial Army soldier and illustrator Matthew Cook recorded events in Iraq and Afghanistan by sketching and painting scenes he witnessed. His work has been exhibited in the Ministry of Defence Main Building to bring the experiences of British forces on operations to London-based staff. The following work in pen and watercolour shows a scene from the Gulf war where a Harrier GR7 is being loaded with Paveway bombs in Kuwait. While the aircraft dominates the scene without the four armourers shown loading the weapons the painting would be totally lacking in energy. It is their presence that brings the work alive as they manouevre the weapons prior to raising them into position under the aircraft’s wings. The picture focuses solely on the aircraft and weapon loading work without adding any complication of surrounding scenery or sky. Sunlight is depicted by the deep shadows portrayed on the tarmac Harrier GR7 being loaded with Paveway Bombs (Mathew Cook) Reference:http://www.matthewcookillustrator.co.uk/c ontent/matthewcookwarartist/iq012.htm
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My own artistic effort focuses on cartoons. However, in this article I will focus on a cartoon by Chris Bazeley; his expertise far exceeds my own very modest efforts. Somewhere on a desert airstrip in the Middle East an Imperial Airways Handley Page 42 is being prepared for departure. Different scenes around the aircraft are cartoons within themselves. In refuelling the aircraft a local is shown balanced precariously on a pile of cans of fuel while his colleagues form a chain to move and load the fuel on the aircraft; a ladder provides access which in modern Health and Safety times would result in volumes of associated bureaucratic regulations. One man is seen possibly supervising the work or just idly watching what is going on. A pilot is poised on his toes in a possible attempt to open the door. At the extreme of the upper port wing a monkey seems to be making its own contribution to the aircraft preparatory work. However, the most delightful scene is that shown at the passenger entrance to the aircraft. The steward is obviously advising a lady passenger that she cannot bring all her luggage on board while she is obviously pleading her case with arm gestures reinforcing her pleas. I can imagine also the steward possibly saying “Madam, I am afraid that you cannot bring the camel on board”. Note that the steward has yet to notice the extra, ultra-heavy suitcase that a local is struggling to bring to the aircraft. Meanwhile a second uniformed person is shown scratching his head as he ponders the lady passenger’s mountain of luggage. Imperial Airways (Chris Bazeley, 2012) (Reference: http://www.chrisbazeley.com/imperial.html)
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Chris Bazeley’s “Imperial Airways” is a delightful work of art, unique in that it combines humour, superb draughtsmanship and an extremely high standard of watercolour expertise. By itself the aircraft is elegantly captured. However, the saying “Every picture tells a story” further enhances the work by portraying different amusing scenes of human activity, although in this case the artist tells a number of tales. The works of art discussed in this article are so unbelievably accurate in terms of detail and perspective that one wonders if the artists resorted to photographing posed scenes and then 'copied' the results. I can’t see even Dame Laura being allowed to delay the departure of the bomber mission while taking a photograph of the crew. More likely she made a significant number of sketches of different studies of the aircraft and crew in less urgent conditions; to quote our own Peter Nield, “…so far as I can see, Dame Laura Knight simply gets stuck in and works from life - amazing.” Some might argue that painting such as Dame Laura’s Gil Cohen’s are photograph-like images which offer little opportunity for interpretation. On the other had Mathew Cook leaves out considerable detail from his work but at the same time offers effective interpretation of human activity and related energy. Chris Bazeley’s work offers humorous human gestures to help interpret the amusing scenes presented. However, they are produced these aviation artists have included human activity in their work. Artists portraying humans may get models to pose where sketches and doubtless photographs are used in developing a composition. Photographs are useful in checking the correctness of proportions and in gauging the line of perspective. I see nothing wrong in using photographs in developing a painting; I suspect that the vast majority of in-flight aviation paintings need to be developed from photographs. Nevertheless I make a plea to aviation artists, “With or without photographic aid don’t neglect the human element”, without people aircraft would never get off the ground!
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Derek Lomas Steve Abbott Chaiman of Society of Marple artists (SMA) and Chairman of MAvAS in 1987 and 1988. When Steve moved to the North he first lived on the next road to Derek and his family. Steve reports that “Derek and his son John were at a Woodford Airshow and they visited our exhibition of Aviation art. I knew the family from Cheadle Hulme days, and put Derek's name down for the Society of Marple Artists of which he was soon to become a member. Derek first exhibited paintings in their exhibition in 1987 and sold a painting of Disley Church (Pen and ink with colour). He got the art bug. I told him about MAvAS. I drove past his house to get to Manchester so it was no trouble picking him up on the way. He Joined at the March AGM 1988 and, with his business knowledge, became our Hon Treasurer - a duty that he continued to fulfil for 6 years until Malcolm Kinnear took over in 1994.” Dave Bates continues. “Derek became our roving reporter for the magazine, supplying reports on air museums and on one occasion the flight home from holiday including shots from the cockpit in the pre terrorist days. Recently he was our featured artist and provided us with one of the best cover paintings. He will be missed.” Derek died 10th December, 2014
Also we regret to report Eric Yuill`s wife, Gwen, passed away on 9th October, and that Ken Jerome, another featured artist, passed away on 17th December.
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NEWSROUND Rodents seen leaving ….? It is with deep regret that I have to inform you that this is the last issue of the magazine in this format, that I edit. I am like an old car that keeps failing it’s M.O.T. Bits will cease working to the required standard. My ex Doctor all to often had two responses to my symptoms. Either he didn’t know what it was - “probably some bug”- or he knew what it was but couldn’t do anything about it. Sadly my eye-sight is causing problems and along with what in computer speak is termed RAM, (random access memory) I am reluctantly, forced at knife-point,( Joyce means it this time) to relinquish the mag. I have had three stints as editor but I don’t think I will arise phoenix like again. I thank all readers and particularly the contributors, but most of all Peter Nield for all his help and support. Dave
Better News Check out Keith`s new Website at www.keithwoodcockart.com
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Dates for Your Diary Meetings run from 7-00pm to 9-30pm in the Admin Room on the 2nd Floor (3rd level) in the large building adjacent to the main gate on Lower Byrom Street at the Museum of Science & Industry in Manchester and are held on the first Tuesday in each month unless otherwise stated. If using the lift, please use the one nearest to the main entrance. Any difficulties on arrival, please contact the Security Team on 07540702032
Tuesday 7th April ‘Airfix Box Art’ A talk presented by Peter Flitcroft
Tuesday 5th May ‘Portrait Sketching’ Hosted by Colin G. Taylor
Saturday 9th May ‘Workshop’ A poster-style demo by Ossie Jones Subject - ‘Testing German Aircraft in RAF Markings - 1945’ Medium - line and wash on Illustration board Final piece to go to a chosen charity
Tuesday 2nd June The Jim MacKendrick Trophy Competition Subject - ‘Aircraft Between the Wars, 1919 to 1939’ Adjudicator - to be announced.
Editor: Dave Bates Tel: 0161-284-3467 Email: david-bates@ntlworld.com Society website: www.mavas.co.uk