It has been rightly said by Alan Taylor writing in The Guardian that Emilio Coia personified the Edinburgh Festival. As The Scotsman’s resident caricaturist for nearly fifty years he drew all of the great actors, actresses, musicians, ballet dancers, artists, and personalities who performed in that great feast of culture. Among them (whose pictures with many hundred other Coias, adorn the walls of The Scotsman office) were the conductors Solti, Previn, Barenboim, Ozawa, Von Karajan and Guilini; the singers Teresa Berganza and Jessye Norman; Margot Fonteyn, Peter Ustinov and Duncan Macrae. He was a kindly caricaturist and many of his subjects loved him and became close friends. Yehudi Menuhin said of him ‘He is every musician’s favourite caricaturist! I look forward to his drawings as much as anything else in The Scotsman when I visit my beloved Edinburgh’. There was only one artiste who did not appreciate his talents. At the 1984 Festival, as he was sketching the dancer Nureyev in the wings of the Playhouse, he had his pad snatched from him and the drawings (he managed to salvage one) torn out. ‘The rudest man that I have ever met’ was Coia’s judgement. As well as drawing for The Scotsman he did a long series of caricatures for Scottish Field. Faces fascinated him: ‘The face to me is the greatest visual miracle on this planet and a never-ending source of wonder’. He was a compulsive artist. And he drew not only the famous. Anyone sitting opposite him at a dinner party was liable to be the ‘victim’. Many a restaurateur paled in apprehension as he set to on the linen tablecovers and napkins with his pen. Then the apprehension turned to beaming admiration as the portrait emerged. But for many of us the abiding memory of Emilio is not that of seeing him draw but of seeing him dance, an ability that he inherited from his mother. He danced at my wedding and he danced at my son’s wedding. I like to think that he is dancing his way through eternity to immortality.