“Hey, Steve, is that you?” Having posed twice previously for Alexandra Unger at her life drawing group in Telegraph Hill, I’d evidently become recognisable by my shadow; it alone was visible to her as she walked towards where I was waiting.
I’d arrived at the Telegraph Hill Centre five minutes earlier and loitered in its lamp-lit doorway. Alex, together with artist Marco, unlocked and we all entered the pleasingly warm room. We moved tables and chairs; I set down my white sheet, whilst Alex and Marco attended to the heater, kettle, music, lighting and art materials.
“I would like you to use your scarf,” said Alex, showing how it might serve to enhance some interesting poses. At £1.49 from QD, I could afford to give it a good workout, so readily agreed. Including Alex herself, there would be five artists present; I would start with a sequence of five 2-minute poses for them.
Looping my scarf around the side panel of a low storage unit, I was left with about half a metre of its length to work with at each end. Next I had to think of five original poses that would work well in this scenario… I selected:
- standing in a crouched tug-of-war stance
- one hand and one knee on the floor, facing away from the unit
- facing back towards the unit, uneven arms, one leg paced forward
- reaching high, back to the artists, one hand holding the wall’s edge
- sitting on the floor with both feet up on the side of the unit
Two 10-minute seated poses followed, with the scarf free from the unit and supporting angled but comfortable arrangements of limbs. The first half of the session ended with a 20-minute standing pose, no scarf, crossed ankles and both hands on my left hip.
After a break for cookies and a nice hot mug of tea, it was agreed that we should end with two poses of 15 minutes and 30 minutes. For the initial pose I sat with one knee sideways on the floor, the other raised, and my arms forming a kind of crucifix outline with it. It was the trickiest pose of the evening – Alex described is almost cubist.
For the last half-hour I had a relaxing lay down whilst Alex positioned her lamplight to cast shadows across my ribcage. “With more time,” she said afterwards, “it could be an anatomy class.”
Job done, I dressed and departed all too soon. It’s one of my longer journeys to travel between Nunhead station and home in Essex but it’s worth every moment. The group is firmly among the most enjoyable to work for. It’s friendly, the standard of drawing is very high yet never pressured; it’s warm, comfortable and there’s always great music.
It’s a real gem in the crown of London’s wildly diverse life drawing scene.
Early evening in a poorly-lit side street, north of Hoxton station. I stand before a dark row of unfamiliar old brick railway arches wondering which one might be number 365. Fortunately salvation was at hand.
“Steve?!”
Two arches down I could see two people attempting to unlock a shuttered frame. The one who called my name was Ilga Leimanis. She would be facilitating a life drawing workshop for a company of landscape architects. I would be her model.
The booking came via the happiest of all routes: a recommendation. Esther Bunting of Spirited Bodies had previously posed for Ilga, and put forward my name as a capable candidate for future sessions. Esther is an astonishingly great model so I was keen to justify her confidence.
Eight artists would be working with wet materials – paints, inks – throughout the entire two hours of the session. I would be alternating short, dynamic poses from first to last without a break. The longest lasted 12 minutes; the second longest was 6 minutes.
So… a lot of poses.
You might think the constant changes and extra physical stress of short posing would keep me warm, but no. For some peculiar reason I felt cold almost from the start. This was in no way the fault of Ilga or the architects who’d spoiled me with not one but two heaters to myself. I simply struggled to find the sweet spot between burning too close or chilling in a no man’s land of vaguely circulating air.
The work itself was rewarding. Ilga was brimming with ideas; she kept us ticking along nicely, always encouraging new creativity. The architects in turn were in relaxed mood yet serious about their art.
I sought to offer constant variety: standing, squatting, kneeling, sitting, semi-reclining, facing left and right, forwards and backwards. If anyone out there thinks a life model is someone that takes off their clothes, slumps down and merely idles for hours, I regret to inform that you have it all wrong.
After the final pose I padded away to get dressed in a shadowy corner while the artists paved the floor with fascinating works of all colours and styles. Ilga led a review while I tiptoed among them and took photographs where shadows permitted.
And then I quit to the icy night-time air outside… grateful to the architects for their life art patronage; grateful to Ilga for her faith; grateful to Esther for her kindness.
It seems incredible that it’d been over a year since I last posed at Wanstead House. Some of my earliest bookings were here when I was just starting out as a life model, so it felt good to be back again.
Six artists were expected, and six arrived promptly in time for a 7pm start. The pose plan was simple: two standing poses of 15 minutes apiece, then 30 minutes seated on a chair, followed by a nice long break, and finally 30 minutes seated on the floor.
My only Wanstead visit in 2014 had been to help group organiser Patrick promote his classes during a Wanstead Art Trail event at the local library. In a very nice gesture at the end of this session, he kindly gave me the portrait he drew of me that day. It remains one of my favourites.
Having already welcomed 2015 with a New Year’s Masquerade and Forbidden art performance, it was time for a return to more conventional life group modelling. And where better to start than one of the Bethnal Green groups run by Adrian Dutton?
It turned out that the session wouldn’t be wholly conventional as I was to be reunited once more with fellow model Maurice for duo poses. We’d posed together for Adrian in July 2013 and March 2014 so were flattered to be paired for a third time; we must have been doing something right.
The twist was that most of our poses were to be asynchronous. It meant there would be fewer opportunities for direct interaction but we could fit many more poses into the evening. Artists would have a choice of pose lengths to draw.
As usual we began with a 10-minute welcome pose; on this occasion a kind of static high-five. We then got dynamic – 1 minute, 30 seconds, 2 minutes, 3 minutes – after which our asynchronous posing began.
First Maurice held a 5-minute standing pose whilst I responded to his stance with five separate 1-minute poses, circling him as I did so. The compliment was returned when I held still for 10 minutes and Maurice came up with a series of 2-minute variations.
Finally for this first half of the evening, Maurice reclined for 20 minutes while I reclined and stood for 10 minutes apiece. The break that followed could last up to half an hour for artists. Models, however, resumed with informal sitting poses after just 15 minutes for those keenest to continue drawing.
When everyone was back in their seats we had a quick flurry of dynamism – 1 minute, 30 seconds, 15 seconds – before lengthening in time. I lay down for 20 minutes while Maurice posed twice, and finally Maurice sat for 30 minutes while I posed three times.
All in all it had been a pretty thorough workout for two gentlemen with a combined age knocking around the 100 mark. As on previous occasions, we gave it a good go, put in a fair bit of variety, and tried to get the most from our contrasting body types. And also as per previous occasions, there was some excellent artwork to show for it at the end.
I love Guerilla Galleries. No, really. They make great things happen. Their eclectic exhibitions seem to amplify the most compelling aspects of strong contemporary art. They are accessible, engaging, thought-provoking and inspirational, sometimes flirting with controversy but never at the expense of quality.
Gallery space with red curtains through which performers enter
FORBIDDEN
I’ve been privileged to attend past exhibitions both as a ticket holder – 100% Nude, Art & Protest – and as a performer – Random Acts of Artistry 2. During their first exhibition of 2015 I would be both, immersed in all things ‘FORBIDDEN’:
FORBIDDEN is an exhibition that discusses and dissects what is unacceptable and why. It will test how liberal we really are in more ways than one. Coming up with solid societal themes has never been a problem, but exploring them is the challenge presented to artists. Good art should create numerous talking points and we expect this exhibition to be no different.
Most people rightly claim to be ‘good’ – whatever that means. Not breaking the law perhaps, holding few or no prejudices, exercising tolerance, patience, respecting the opinions of others, could sit snugly on a list of attributes ‘good’ people share. But it is not what you don’t do, but why you don’t that comes under scrutiny.
Presented over three days with more than 25 new and emerging artists, London’s 10 000 sq ft Daniel Libeskind Space will host this intriguing exhibition of contemporary art.
‘Torso‘ by Minju Kim / ‘Taboo‘ by Jamie Ashman
BIBLIOCLASM
On Wednesday 7 January I would take my place as a regular paying customer, whilst on Tuesday 6 January and Thursday 8 January I was to participate in the performance installation ‘BIBLIOCLASM’ by Peter Jacobs:
“When truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie.” – Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Censorship is older than publishing. From ancient times to the present day, ruling societies, patriarchies and their petty functionaries have sought to censor, ban and even burn books that have challenged established orthodoxies on the grounds of sexual morality, religion and politics – and a plethora of other smokescreen reasons that obscure these three fundamental keystones of social oppression.
BIBLIOCLASM is a group performance in which naked readers will give voice and presence to books that have been deemed socially corrosive, politically incendiary or otherwise offensive at some point in their history.
“Any book worth banning is a book worth reading.” – Isaac Asimov
Performance: 60-70 minutes
Tuesday night – VIP Private View
Doors for the first night’s VIP Private View at the Daniel Libeskind Space were to open at 6:30pm. Our performance of BIBLIOCLASM was set to begin at 7pm. As the performers arrived they were welcomed at the door by supreme Guerilla, Tony André, and shown around by Peter.
‘Night time orgasm‘, ‘Lunchtime orgasm‘ by Didi Mx / ‘Untitled’ by Miguel Ivorra
Our performance space was a capacious room upstairs with stark grey concrete walls enlivened by diverse paintings, photographs and sculpture. At its centre, on the floor, a large perfect rectangle had been marked by thin pale masking tape. In the middle of the rectangle lay an Afghan rug, around which we would read aloud excepts from our banned books.
BIBLIOCLASM performance space
Before the first VIP guests arrived we scattered our books upon the rug and retreated downstairs, out of the gallery to a small side room a few metres along a corridor. We undressed – 10 of us in total – and waited for our moment to arrive. Most of us had worked together in art installations before. Veterans of art.
At the appointed time, Peter began a slow walk out from our room, through the gallery to ascend the stairs. He picked up his book and began reading with natural voice from page one. Martin followed shortly after, then Jane, and one by one we each made our way into the rectangle and collected our books. I was the backmarker.
Over the course of what turned out to be an hour and twenty minutes, each of us read the opening pages, a selected middle section, and the closing pages of the work we had chosen. Individual readings lasted two to three minutes. There was no formal hand-over between readers; our telepathy worked.
Photograph by Miguel Ivorra – BIBLIOCLASM gallery
Sometimes we had a large audience, sometimes even responsive. Mostly numbers were in single figures – which was perhaps our fair expectation – with people joining, leaving and returning throughout. Sometimes for a few moments we were alone, still slowly pacing the floor, pausing in quietude, and reciting once-forbidden literature with clarity and purpose.
Peter had started with ‘One day in the life of Ivan Denisovich‘ by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn; Martin followed with ‘Ulysses‘ by James Joyce, and Jane read from ‘On the origin of species‘ by Charles Darwin. Diverse works followed. Thomas had chosen ‘Last exit to Brooklyn‘ by Hubert Selby, Jr.; Roy picked ‘Harry Potter and the philospher’s stone‘ by J. K. Rowling.
Chas and Cy – hardy perennial fellow collaborators – chose ‘A clockwork orange‘ by Anthony Burgess and ‘Catch-22‘ by Joseph Heller respectively. Chris opted for ‘Lolita‘ by Vladimir Nabokov, while Ian had selected ‘The catcher in the rye‘ by J.D. Salinger. My own choice was a personal favourite, ‘The Master and Margarita‘ by Mikhail Bulgakov.
It was a performance début for BIBLIOCLASM. Peter had previously staged alternative literary-themed installations in Manchester and London but this was a newly realised presentation. Having worked on numerous projects with Peter as a fellow performer, it was gratifying to support his personal artistic vision now.
Photograph by Miguel Ivorra – BIBLIOCLASM gallery
As each performer completed their final reading they stood silently on the rug. When the last reading was done we dropped our books and departed one by one, retracing our steps down through the gallery rooms. A smattering of applause came, and was appreciated.
After dressing we returned to the VIP Private View where we partook of wine and XT Brewing beers while chatting with enthusiasts who’d seen the piece. We hadn’t been perfect – I wobbled on a couple of Russian names in the first section, and the room was so cold that by the last reading I couldn’t quite hold the book steady – but we’d been very good. Day one of the three-day exhibition had gone well.
Wednesday – Clothing-optional ART Private View
“We’re inviting our guests to view the show naked should they opt to do so.”
The clothing-optional evening had been a feature of past Guerilla Galleries exhibitions, and fitted in nicely with the ethos of FORBIDDEN. The effectiveness of an all-naked performance amid a largely naked audience would have been diminished somewhat, so BIBLIOCLASM was given the night off. I went along anyway as a paying guest.
I met my fellow art-collaborator friends Louise and Natansky in Costa across the road from the gallery before its doors opened. Natansky had four of her photographic works exhibited – including one each of Louise and me solo, and another of us together with absent friend Nefretari – plus a further two with herself as photographic model, and two more of her as an angel in Adrian Henderson’s oil paintings.
Natansky with ‘Angel of the east‘ / ‘Angel of the west‘ by Adrian Henderson
Adrian and Natansky – photograph by Loredana Denicola, loredanadenicola.com
We entered at 6:30pm, were greeted by Tony and mingled with other guests. Then in groups of ten at a time we were led away to take the option of being unclothed for the rest of the evening. Part of the invitation encouraged the wearing of masks too, whilst others wore wraps, socks, boots or sandals and – in one case – a shocking pink wig. Well, there’s always one, isn’t there, Scott?
Photograph by Loredana Denicola, loredanadenicola.com
Photograph by Loredana Denicola, loredanadenicola.com
Performers Chas and Ian had returned too. Other fellow models, art performers and friends from previous events included Keith, Dominic, Leonora, Chris and Adrian. The majority of people present had chosen to be naked. It was a chance to chat and, for me, to appreciate the art I didn’t have time to enjoy while performing.
Photograph by Loredana Denicola, loredanadenicola.com
Photograph by Loredana Denicola, loredanadenicola.com
Two of my favourite Guerilla Galleries artists were again represented. I’ve never met artist Jean-Luc Almond but I’m always drawn to his eerie portraits. His three works on display were expressionless and mask-like, with a textured unfocussed shimmer as if viewed through a waterfall or a night-time fog or encased in ice. ‘Untitled head’ was probably my favourite work in the exhibition.
‘Untitled head’ by Jean-Luc Almond
Also once more represented was the brilliantly talented and inspired artist, Piluca. Perhaps more than any other artist exhibited, she always manages to capture the spirit of each exhibition’s theme and produce an original imaginative work. Whether intriguing, appealing or confrontational, she consistently creates striking, painterly works of love, care and skill.
‘Home: where’s the heart?’ by Piluca
Towards the end of the evening I regrouped with Louise and Natansky. We had a plan. Inspired by our al fresco Public Bodies work in central London for Matt Granger, we decided to dash outside for two minutes and grab a handful of photos while nude on Holloway Road. It was an opportunist move by the three of us, without endorsement from Guerilla Galleries. We would be quick and would not be breaking any UK laws.
Nat pulled on a heavy coat and grabbed her camera, Louise dropped her wrap but kept her boots on. I remained simply as I was. Without further ado we slipped out the front door. First Nat posed us in an embrace in front of a bus shelter, and then sat us down in the shelter beside a willing (clothed) passer-by.
‘Just waiting for a bus…’ by Natansky
We hugged a tree, and then made as if we’d argued and I was trying to prevent Louise running across the road. Finally we struck an elegant pose against the architecture of the building. All done in mere moments, we dashed back inside in search of warmth. Annoyingly, we’d been followed out by one unclothed man who took his own voyeur shots of us. More problematic was that we were followed back in… by the police.
We had done nothing wrong in law, and nothing was pursued at the time, but it was regrettable as their presence would become Tony’s problem. I was in another part of the gallery and didn’t find out until after they’d gone. Tony was an innocent victim so apologies were in order. He took it stoically but I felt rotten. Sorry again, Tony. Credit to the police for taking a proportional view and leaving quickly.
On a more positive note, during the course of the evening Natansky’s photograph of Louise – taken during our Babylon photo shoot – had found a buyer. This was a fine endorsement of photographer, model, and the exhibition that gave their art exposure. Hopefully our brief excursion outside would mark the beginning of another positive for us all: Natansky’s PROJECT 2015.
Sold! Photograph by Natansky, model: Louise
What was left of the evening played out with art, drinks and convivial conversation until the time came, around 8:30pm, to make our various ways home. In my case it was to get rested in readiness for a final performance of BIBLIOCLASM the following evening.
Thursday night – About Last Night
The BIBLIOCLASM performers reassembled. We would be without Thomas and Ian but we had gained Ernesto. There be some book changes too. Roy would now been reading ‘A clockwork orange’ instead of Chas, so Chas read from the ‘Bible‘. Ernesto brought with him ‘Howl‘ by Allen Ginsberg, while our artist-performer and inspiration Peter switched to ‘Fahrenheit 451‘ by Ray Bradbury.
Compounding the previous night’s police visit, apparently there had been a complaint by a small number of students at London Metropolitan University – of which the Daniel Libeskind Graduate Centre is a part – about the visibility of naked people. This meant we could no longer begin with a walk through the gallery. Instead we were obliged to change behind screens in the performance room itself.
I had only noticed one student in the study area separated by glass from the corridor through which we walked on the first night, and he seemed quite content taking a few photos of us on his phone. There was no exhibitionism nor attention paid – we were simply walking from A to B. Still, events had combined to heap more woe on Tony so of course we respected the situation.
The Thursday night performance was close to perfection. Peter had conceived the piece to be audience-present rather than audience-facing, but we weren’t limited to muttering. Everyone breathed life into the words they read aloud. We moved unevenly about the space, pleasingly organic, within and beyond the boundaries of our marked area on the floor.
Visitors drifted in and drifted out, some lingered a while, but for longer periods were without any audience at all. This was no reflection on our performance; after two very busy sell-out days there simply wasn’t the same level of attendance at the exhibition for this final evening. Nonetheless, we once more got a small fluttering of applause. Peter had brought his vision to fruition, and it was excellent.
The artist Peter Jacobs
We dressed, tidied our space and had a last drink before saying farewells and parting. We did not know where we might next meet or perform but we could be certain in our conviction that the journey would continue.
“At the sunset hour…”
This must have been a demanding exhibition for Guerilla Galleries to manage. Artists, patrons, co-occupiers of the building, and even the police had all demanded attention. In their darkest moments they could be forgiven for wondering if it’s worth the trouble and expense of staging exhibitions at all. I hope not.
We should take a pace back and look again in a clear light.
London is the greatest city in the world. Its reputation for creativity, energy, tolerance and cosmopolitan life is second to none. And it does not have that great reputation by chance. It has it because Guerilla Galleries and others like them are prepared to go to the edge, make things happen, deliver art and beauty, freshness and vigour, invention and wonder to this fantastic global metropolis.
Moments may be challenging in ways that could not be foreseen; freedoms exercised without intent to cause offence may yet be upsetting to some. But how do we develop as an all-embracing society if we don’t test our limitations? And with scarce access to government grants or business sponsorship, where would our wonderful original artists find a platform if the likes of Guerilla Galleries were not here?
We must not take for granted our fragile civilisation or cultural progression.
Sometimes we don’t see the small connections, the causes and effects. Sometimes we don’t know how lucky we are. And we are lucky! We are lucky to have the bodies, minds and characters that make London dazzle. Lucky to have Guerilla Galleries, the artists they represent, the art those artists create and the boldness of spirit that can bring it within reach of us all. So I say: thank you… and encore!
Photograph by Natanksy, model: Steve
Featured artists included Jean-Luc Almond, Jamie Ashman, Simona Badu, Joseph Baker, Alex Becker, Ruth Bircham, Marc Blackie, Dr Bingo Bongo, Liana Bortolozzo, Leanne Broadbent, Paul Browne, Angela Chalmers, Joanne Clements, Hayley Fiddler, The Finsbury Park Deltics, Chris Francis, Silvan Gottschall, Adrian Henderson, Robert Hitzeman, Alice Holmes, Miguel Ivorra, Peter Jacobs, Harsha Jagasia, Don Julian, Minju Kim, David ‘Lusky’ Luscombe, Didi Mx, Michaela Mysakova, Elizabeth Nast, Natansky, Landon Peck, Phaedra Peer, Piluca, Charlotte Pollard, Ruby Quinn, Sylvestia Shillingford, Mario Sughi, Christian Turbato, Nara Walker, Peter White, Keeley Wynn.
It had been half an hour since the cheers went up and the balloons rained down. The main hall was a sea of celebration, masks and mayhem, ball gowns and gold bodies. Meanwhile, in a side room rammed with row upon row of revellers, three life models posed nude in front of a black lacquered coffin…
It could only be Art Macabre.
Life drawing was a featured event at the grand New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball organised by A Curious Invitation at Conway Hall, central London. Art Macabre was facilitating the artiness, with Lorraine, Jessica, Fiona and me as models.
We were to be in pose from 10pm to 11:30pm on New Year’s Eve, and from 12:30am to 1:30am to New Year’s Day. Doors for the ball itself would open an hour before our first session. When I arrived shortly after 8pm, Art Macabre god-empress Nikki – aka Raven Rouge – was applying the finishing touches to our stage (“less is more”) while omni-capable Linsay was absorbed in the designing of signs for our doors.
Lorraine was already on the scene. Jessica and Fiona followed, with Mika – another Art Macabre regular – who would be on crowd-control duties. When Nikki was happy with our space we decamped to the green room behind the cabaret stage, there to finish our preparations alongside Rubyyy Jones and her singing, flinging, strutting, stripping, shocking, schlocking all-star performers.
In this crowded backstage demesne we cracked open the Prosecco and attended to make-up and costume. Nikki crowned Jessica and Lorraine with the most intricately exquisite hair accessories, while Linsay gave my face an all-over deathly grey pallor and – at Nikki’s request – a pencil moustache. It was suggested that I looked like the corpse of John Waters.
The hall was starting to get busy as we trooped back to our life drawing room for the 10pm start. It would be Jessica, Lorraine and me posing on the pre-midnight shift. I’d put on a pair of skeleton-patterned leggings to begin with, while Jessica and Lorraine would be nude.
As 2014 came to its end, so we presented two sequences representing the death of the old year. Lorraine played the part of white-haired 2014, Jessica was our pagan goddess, while I was Old Father Time. We started with Lorraine laying in her coffin while Jessica and I stood either side.
We held variants of this pose twice for 5 minutes, and another with Lorraine seated for 6 minutes. Next I stood behind the coffin, leggings now removed, whilst Lorraine took 2014’s last stand for 7 minutes. Finally she sat back in the coffin with me perched on its side and Jessica standing over us. This 6-minute pose ended the first session.
Our audience had been sparse to begin with but by the end it was standing room only. Not bad for a side show. We varied the sequence for a second run-through, taking us up to 11:30pm. Jessica and I started seated for 3 minutes; subsequent poses were 5 minutes each.
We had our backs to the audience when Lorraine stood facing forward from her coffin. Then Lorraine stepped out and took a turn sitting down on stage, before we ended by repeating our last pose of the first session. All around us was hubbub and merriment. With 2014 symbolically laid to rest for a second time, the hour approached when we would do it for real.
We dressed lightly and joined London’s most fabulous, raucous hoi polloi in the main hall. The band played up a storm on the cabaret stage, while all around them whirled burlesque stars and gold-painted waiters and waitresses, the latter wearing nowt but loin cloths and nipple pasties.
Ten seconds to midnight, the loud countdown began. Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!… As we reached ‘Five!’ I felt a sudden desire to see in the year naked. It seemed quite appropriate to my curious mind so duly I slipped off my gown. Nobody else batted an eyelid… Four! Three! Two! One!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Balloons, music, cheering, dancing. It was perfect. A Curious Invitation knows how to welcome a year in style… and Art Macabre knows how to do drawing salons. As the climax of celebrations mellowed, we retreated once more into the green room for our second round of preparation.
The room was crackling with raw humanity at its most exotic. Nikki applied gold leaf to Jessica’s face while Fiona – now taking over from Lorraine – applied gold leaf to her own nipples. In a pagan birthing ritual, Fiona was to bring forth the new year.
It was chaos as we tried to return to our life drawing room. Mika and another of our Art Macabre friends, Amy, were trying to clear out hoards of party-goers who’d spilled into our space. For quite a while I was stuck outside, still naked, chatting with the queuing artists. Two glamorous patrons took my details with a view to a possible future model booking, which was rather nice.
When eventually we started, the room was heaving and buzzing. Our pose sequence was 5, 6, 5 and 5 minutes. First Fiona stood in profile with a balloon as a baby bump under a crimson sheet around her midriff, while Jessica and I flanked her. Next Fiona sat on a chair facing the artists with her balloon slid lower as if birth was imminent. I crouched by her right knee with arms outstretched, ready to catch the baby.
The waters broke. Ever with attention to detail, Nikki hung red tinsel strands between Fiona’s legs. Jessica and I stood grasping her arms while Fiona threw her head back and her knees wide, modesty still concealed, for the final push. In our last tableau we presented two large muscular gold-painted waiters as babies – no wonder it had been a traumatic birth.
Alas, at that point I had to quit the party and dash for a train while the rest stayed for one more birthing ritual. I had no time to wash off my face paint so I entered the world outside still zombie-like. A few delighted women asked to take selfies with me, whilst several drunks took a startled pace back as I loomed tall along London’s dark streets.
It had been an utterly extraordinary night – massive credit to Art Macabre, A Curious Invitation, Rubyyy Jones and the many other glorious cabaret stage stars.
In 2014 I waited till 30 January for my first life model work of the year; in 2015 it came at half-past midnight on the morning of New Year’s Day. Let’s hope this bodes well for a great year ahead.
In two and a half years of life modelling the large gaping hole in my CV has been work at colleges. This has been for four basic reasons:
- my 8am to 4:30pm day job rules out their weekday classes
- college modelling can be notoriously big on bureaucracy
- I’ve favoured posing for adults rather than adolescents
- I’ve neither touted my services nor received an offer
This changed, however, when a friend offered up my name for Saturday modelling work at Albemarle College near London’s Marble Arch. I exchanged emails with the tutor, Susan, and the booking was confirmed. A crisp November morning saw me debut.
The coursework was designed to give an extra boost to students’ prospects for A-level qualification. Four young people turned up on the day, which would be divided into two sessions: first from 10:15am to 12:10pm; then from 12:40pm to 1:45pm.
Four easels were set-up in a small self-contained art room accessed through the back of the college. Space was at a premium but Susan had it organised such that we were all able to work in comfort. The students moved to a different easel for each exercise.
Susan would set the pose lengths and decide whether I should be standing or seated, facing forward or backwards. I would choose the poses within these constraints.
We opened with three standing poses of three minutes each – two facing forward, one backwards – which the students were to draw whilst looking only at me, never at their paper. We followed with two more three-minute standing poses – one forward and one backwards – to be drawn with a continuous line. Tough practice!
After a longer seated pose for charcoal drawing we ended the morning with two poses to be painted using black ink in three different levels of dilution. The twist was that the students would be standing, their papers laying on the floor and their brushes fixed on the end of metre-long poles. It was tackled with enthusiasm, fascinating to watch.
After the break, students were invited to take one light, mid and dark pastel in colours of their choice, while I sat for a long pose that lasted the whole of the second session. The final works, when all lined-up together, made a magnificent display.
The students’ attitude to their art was positive whilst their attitude to me, quite rightly, was polite indifference. I was merely a form to be observed and reproduced according to their own talents and interpretations. My first foray into college modelling had gone well, opening my mind and whetting my appetite for more.
steve ritter 