For all the wonderful art there is to create in extraordinary locations, sometimes with multiple models, sometimes with outrageous props, I’m still a purist at heart. I love it when a life drawing session is literally stripped back to its bare minimum: the artists and their creative instruments; the model, naked, alone.
A new opportunity appeared on 7 October for just such work. The call-out came from Tatiana on behalf of Camberwell Life Drawing:
MALE MODEL NEEDED!!
Who would be available to model for me on the 15 and 22nd of October?[…] the class is from 7pm to 9pm. We usually have the same model for 2 weeks in a row, the first week we do a short poses class (2 to 15min) and the following week a long poses class (15 to 45min).
40 Kemerton Road, Camberwell, SE5 9AR, London (the nearest train station is Loughborough Junction and bus stop for buses 35, 45, 345 is only 7 minutes away from our location.)
Thank you in advance! 🙂
I volunteered for both dates and was in.
As always for a first time modelling at a new venue, I turned up with plenty of time to spare. I was particularly looking forward to this first of the two dates, as the potential for dynamism and variety in the shorter poses appeals to me more than the naturally self-limiting (for the model) longer format.
The Cambria pub would be the venue – a superb traditional old London pub. Tables and chairs had been arranged as an arc in the large upstairs function room, facing a long bright red couch. Lighting and heaters were being rigged as I arrived.
Tatiana had told me the group usually numbers around 10 artists, with maybe 16 the high-water mark. I think we had 14 this evening, which was pleasing. My picture had been used in the advertising and seemed not have had a negative effect!
Come 7pm I walked in front of the arc of tables, stood before the couch and shed my gown. The first half sequence was to be four 2-minute poses, three of 5-minutes, and three of 10-minutes. After a break we would conclude with three 15-minute poses.
I struck dynamic standing poses for each of the 2-minutes, then one standing pose in between two sitting on floorboards for the 5-minutes, ending in a lotus position. These were the purist poses I love.
I followed with a 10-minute restful pose on the couch leaning over one arm, and then a 10-minute inverted pose with legs and bottom on the couch, head and arms draped to the floor. The last 10 minutes were standing, hands on hips.
I needed the interval to let my back recover a little. On resumption I began seated on the couch, with one foot flat on the cushions and my spine rounded into its back – a counterpose to the earlier back-bend down to the floor. 15 minutes standing followed, holding a flower in one hand and extending the other. To conclude, I went 15 minutes laying lengthways on the couch with my arms and legs over either end.
I thoroughly enjoyed this session. After dressing I joined Tatiana in photographing the artists’ works. There was plenty of quality on show – all of which whetted my appetite for what might be produced when I return for longer poses.
How far should we push it? Those of us who gladly shed our clothes for art, or for the causes in which we believe, or simply for the joy of it – how far do we take our nudity in public? We don’t set out to cause offence, and we don’t believe the naked human form is intrinsically offensive anyway, yet we know people get upset at the sight of it. This can be felt at a deep personal level, not merely the reflection-by-rote of religious or societal conventions. So how far should we push it?
The question was brought into fresh focus when photographer Matt Granger posted his call-out on 9 August for participants to join a group photo shoot in central London. There would be something of a guerilla approach to the work; a literal flash mob. We would turn up unannounced, strip off en masse in some still to be determined public space, capture our shots, then quickly dress and leave.
I signed up immediately, with the caveat: “I’m sure all models would like to hear the exact proposal before committing 100%; we all love what we do but are equally all keen to avoid arrest, unemployment and the sex offenders register.”
Of course, our capital has seen me naked in public many times before, during the London Naked Bike Rides (see 2013 and 2014 blogs), but those were recognised, well-established events with the police already on side. Plus there is the weight of numbers; even the most committed copper would struggle to round up a thousand naked people, all on bicycles.
I thought Matt’s concept might have the potential to leave us a little more vulnerable. It’s important to remember, however, that it is NOT illegal to be nude in public in the United Kingdom. Crown Prosecution Service guidance states:
In the absence of any sexual context and in relation to nudity where the person has no intention to cause alarm or distress it will normally be appropriate to take no action unless members of the public were actually caused harassment, alarm or distress (as opposed to considering the likelihood of this).
In this case such conduct should be regarded as at most amounting to an offence under section 5 of the Public Order Act 1986; and regard needs to be had to the question of whether a prosecution is in the public interest.
Matt is an extremely experienced professional photographer, and it was quite evident he had no intention of putting his models at any risk. Still, one always wonders what difficulties an over-enthusiastic police officer might create, and with what long-lasting consequences.
Anyway, that was as far as my concerns went as a mature responsible adult. There would be no holding me back if the shoot went ahead, assuming I was available and invited. It did go ahead, I was available, and I was invited. We would converge by the River Thames:
- Date: Thursday 2 October 2014
- Time: 6am to 8am
- Place: the Millennium Bridge, in front of Tate Modern on the south bank
The gathering
It was a horribly early start. I set my alarm for 3:45am with the plan: get ready, catch the first train into London, do the shoot, go directly on to my day job, then from there head straight to Telegraph Hill for life modelling in the evening – a long day.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
By ten to six I had arrived at the north end of the Millennium Bridge. The sky remained midnight-black but there were small signs the city had begun to stir from its slumber. I stepped onto the metal walkway and started over the Thames to our rendezvous. Even on the river there was barely a breeze; the lingering chill just a remnant of night.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
As I crossed to the other side I passed a black-clad figure adjusting a camera tripod, and assumed it to be one of Matt’s team. Down to my left I could see a set of figures alongside the river path and decided, first things first, I’d best check-in with the group.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
I checked in. When everyone was there who was going to be there we were 15 strong. As is often the case, there were friends from previous projects: Cy and Natansky from numerous events; Louise and Nefretari from recent photo shoots; lots of familiar faces. The black-clad figure from the bridge came over to join us – it was Matt himself.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
One couldn’t help but warm to Matt immediately. His laid-back approachable manner, his clarity and authoritative delivery on the work in hand, it all inspired confidence from the outset. He briefed us precisely on what we would do, when and how we would do it, and the shots he would capture. Not in a demanding way; simply helpful, thorough and professional. Exactly what a model needs.
The shoot
We would be photographed in a number of arrangements on the bridge and afterwards on the areas of grass in front of Tate Modern. Before, after and between arrangements we would be back in our clothes. For the first shot we were arranged in a line, side by side, fitting exactly the full width of the bridge. As tallest I faced forwards in the centre whilst on either side, wings of seven stood sideways in descending order of height.
In subsequent shots we spanned the bridge while laying down – very cold on metal – or stood in a V-formation, or we created parallel rows side by side running lengthways. It remained dark as we began, but in our concentration on the job in hand we perhaps failed to notice the emerging greyness of dawn.
There was a steady flow of passers-by on the bridge, mostly joggers and cyclists, but certainly never the throng of commuters that I imagined. And no sign of the authorities either, although presumably we were being observed by who-knows how many CCTV cameras. Most joggers just bid us a smiling ‘good morning’. We felt bad for the times we blocked their path when in position for a shot, but in total I reckon we heard only a couple of grumbling voices during nearly two hours of activity. At least one bemused observer tweeted:
After several shots that involved all 15 volunteers, Matt called for just the five women among us to strike strong poses across the middle of the bridge. Later he called for the three men with the finest physiques – alas, I was never in the running – to pose astride spotlights in the ground. Six-packs and shadows; Matt knew his subject.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
By now the morning had fully broken, albeit wth diffuse light through a mantle of cloud. We never felt the sun on our skin. Passer-by numbers had increased, yet still they left us untroubled as we lay bare on the grass in three rows in front of the gallery. The chill of night remained on the damp earth at our backs; I succumbed to shivers.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
In a different part of the grounds we posed standing along a winding footpath. To finish, eight of us paired-up and posed as couples, standing or seated beside the path. I was joined in this piece by Louise, while Nefretari was seated on the opposite side.
Behind the scenes (BTS)
With that we were done. Several of the group would be heading off for a nice breakfast together, and it grieved me hugely to dash away for a day at work. Couldn’t be helped, though. It’s the day job that puts food on my own table.
I walked through the now-busy city streets to a station and train that would take me away. In the train’s toilet compartment I changed out of my light modelling gear into formal clothes. And so to work I went – butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth.
The product
It’s now a little over two weeks since the shoot. Matt has launched a new Kickstarter campaign to finance ‘Public Bodies’, the book in which his London photos will appear. His persuasive statement begins:
Public Bodies is an Art Nude Photography Book shot in public locations around the world. Why should the naked body be kept private?
I think there is something wrong with our censorship standards, putting nudity in the same category as violence, drugs and anti-social behaviour. So for this sequel to my first book, Private Bodies, we took the nudity to the streets.
After publishing Private Bodies, I was confronted by the way nudity is categorised. For example I was twice kicked off Facebook for sharing a non-erotic image that showed partial and blurred nipples. This was deemed as offensive, inappropriate and in breach of the Community Standards. At the same time I saw videos hosted on the site of graphic violence, brutal murders, drug abuse etc… and these were not removed.
I felt it was time to move the Private project into the Public.
The subjects of the book are a cross section of society – there were no conditions or requirements to participate other than being committed to the concept. Subjects include people totally comfortable with their bodies, up and coming models, and people who had never posed for a photo shoot – let alone nude.
The one thing they all share is the belief that nudity in art should not be considered private or offensive.
Which brings us back to the question: how far should we push it? There is no tidy answer. With each little push of this kind maybe we help erode society’s received conventional wisdom, that the human body is an object of horror and shame to be concealed, mocked or reviled. The human body is better than that. We all are.
Perhaps a day will come when nobody – no body – need be blurred.
Please help Matt in his work.
Support Public Bodies – Nude in Public (Art Nude Photography Book).
My October return to Bethnal Green was for Adrian Dutton‘s Thursday class. It was to be a duo session with Boyko – an experienced life model, nonetheless undergoing the ritual of ‘auditioning’ to become a member of the Register of Artists’ Models (I’m RAM2437 myself.)
It had been the first cold, wet week of autumn, but Eastbourne House was sufficiently heated to keep us comfortable throughout the evening.
The deterioration in weather was not matched by a deterioration in artist numbers. The turnout was good, and they would do us proud.
The two halves of the session roughly mirrored each other. We began with an informal 10 or 15 minute pose, during which artists drifted into readiness and drew as much or as little as they preferred. We then progressed to a quickfire dynamic sequence, and progressed towards longer 20 or 30 minute poses.
I usually try to do a bit of interacting with the other model in duo pieces, but with this billed as an audition I thought it best to let Boyko do his thing without distraction. He did it very well, clearly no stranger to the format.
As ever at Adrian’s classes, when the evening was done he encouraged the artists to lay out their drawings for all to admire. I remarked that I thought this was the best set of works as a whole I’d seen for several months. Well worth coming out for on a rainy night in Bethnal Green. Always a pleasure.
No sooner had I posted on Facebook that my modelling and performance week could scarcely get any busier than up popped a new opportunity. Well what is one to do? It was in two evenings’ time, I happened to be free, so I volunteered.
This work was especially appealing as it was with a new life drawing group launched by Alexandra Unger – a vastly talented artist, performer and sometime model. We had met once before, participating in the Mud Circles installation for Adam James on a very chilly February afternoon back in 2012.
I arrived in plenty of time but was mystified by how to get in the venue. Partly I was distracted by the adjacent Hill Station café, where I’d modelled once before with Spirited Bodies. Luckily I bumped into Alexandra on the pavement outside, so we entered together and began setting-up for a 7:30pm start.
Six artists joined us; Alexandra herself would also be drawing. After some amicable haggling between artists over whether to start with a 20 minute or 5 minute pose, an accord was reached: I began with a 10 minute standing pose.
To a Julee Cruise soundtrack, we continued with another 10 minutes standing, 10 minutes seated and a further 15 minutes standing, taking us to a break. Alexandra made tea and talked with us about ‘drawing with the right side of the brain‘ – a methodology that seemed both intriguing and daunting when my strewn limbs had already provided ample challenge.
For the final hour I posed 10 minutes standing, 20 minutes seated, and 30 minutes laying down. Limbs were strewn more than ever, but for me the main challenge was staying awake. My day had started at 3:45am. Come 9:30pm, I didn’t mind that the first faint chill of autumn had begun making itself felt.
All done, I quickly dressed and we packed away. Artist feedback for Alexandra was upbeat, so signs are good that this young group will thrive. At some point during the evening my phone battery died, which meant I couldn’t take any photos of drawings. Still, here’s what Alexandra herself created and kindly emailed to me.
It’s a fantastic reminder of why I put myself forward to model whenever the opportunity arises. I still find it a humbling privilege to be drawn so well.
My first life modelling session at the A-side B-side Gallery had been a last minute desperation booking after another model had dropped out. It was pleasing, therefore, to find my efforts were sufficient to warrant repeated bookings on a limited roster.
Aside from the circumstances, the other difference this time around was the location of the gallery itself – still part of Hackney Downs Studios but now in its own space separate from the main building. The space was slightly smaller, and so were artist numbers: at least six had dropped out through sickness, and another was detained elsewhere. Thus, for the evening I was the centre of attention for three artists.
As per last time the session was led by Catherine Hall. The combination of chill-out music, regular time calls, and Catherine’s tips and tuition made it a relaxing evening that seemed to race by.
We started with two five-minute standing poses, then went into six dynamic poses of one minute each, plus a further two of just 30 seconds. Proportion and tone were the themes of discovery. One-minute poses were 30 seconds in black and 30 seconds in white. I concluded the first half with 20 minutes seated.
After a break I resumed with another brace of five-minute poses, and finished seated on the floor for a half-hour stretch while my extended left foot faded to numbness.
All three artists kindly permitted me to photograph their work, but my pictures of one artist’s drawings came out blurred. This was hugely frustrating as the artists drew in contrasting styles, and each deserved for me to do them justice. Here are examples of the evening’s work nonetheless. I’ve done what I can, with apologies, to correct for blurring in the last one. A great session.
Ouroboros: the ancient symbol of a serpent devouring its own tail. A circle. A cycle. Birth and death. The struggle of life. Eternal return. Self begets self.
Rebirth
Ouroboros is also a performance installation by the Anglo-Swiss-Slovak art collective, JocJonJosch. I was privileged to be part of its premier at the Ancienne Chancellerie of Sion, Switzerland, from 29 November to 1 December 2013, where it coincided with the trio being awarded the Manor Cultural Prize 2013 and exhibiting collected works at the Musée d’Art du Valais.
It wasn’t until 3 August this year, however, that I published my blog of the experience and shared it with our performers’ Facebook group. A mere eleven days later, Joschi appended this mouth-wateringly enigmatic comment:
“steve, thank you for the kind words, we look forward to working with you again soon“
Ouroboros, as it turned out, was to be reborn: bigger, bolder and this time at the heart of London. Jon lit the touchpaper on 22 August:
“Sorry for the short notice but we are happy to announce that Ouroboros will be part of Friday Late at the V&A on the 26th of September, 2014. More info in the document attached.”
Ouroboros Performance – Friday late Art Licks at the V&A (PDF 36KB)
Application forms were soon flooding in to our event coordinator, Eugenie.
Arts Licks for free at the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Preparation
For the Brits who’d taken part in Sion this was not to be missed: Carol, Chas, Chris L, Clifford, Cy, Janet, Karen, Peter J, Martin and Yvonne, and I would all be reprising our previous work. We would be joined by other regular co-performers and models: Adrian, Chris A, Louise, Niv, Peter M, Robin and Toni. Many more besides.
A rehearsal afternoon was set for the Saturday ahead of our Friday night event, and there was a chance to meet the artists at the V&A on the evening before that. These were not mandatory for those who’d been in Sion but I wanted to be there. Alas, I was unable to make the meeting but I did join the rehearsals, from 2pm to 4pm in Studio 2 at the American Musical Theatre Academy of London.
Joc and Jon led us through warm-up exercises, a few clothed rehearsals and finally a complete nude practice run. It was a stiflingly warm day, which meant we were a tad sweatier than would be ideal. Matters must have seemed all the more uncomfortable for the lone woman rehearsing among 20 men, yet she glided through with unflinching serenity.
I guessed the male:female gender balance would be more like 3:1 on the night. In the event it was closer to 2:1 – of our 34 performers, including the three artists, we would be 24 men and 10 women. Achieving an even gender balance for large-scale call-out performances and photo shoots remains an elusive goal; a representative ethnic mix, even more so. Still, those willing and present can only be themselves. Commitment and respect remain the most important attributes anyone can bring.
Gathering
Friday arrived. We had been asked to gather outside the staff entrance of the V&A for 4:30pm. It wasn’t possible for everyone coming straight from work to get there quite so early but I was close enough, being only five minutes late. Eugenie took names and distributed wristbands – the latter would get us through security but be removed before performance. It became a grand reunion on the sun-soaked pavements of Kensington.
Eugenie’s map to guide us in.
We passed a security booth and were led along back alleys, corridors and stairwells. These areas were more functional than fantastic, although one particular architectural motto caught my eye in the context of our work ahead…
“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.”
Bad news awaited us. We had been expecting to perform in the magnificent Raphael Room (48a), but the partial collapse that same day of a vast ceiling-suspended mirror installation inside the room meant it was now strictly off-limits. The hunt was on for a suitable alternative; I waited in dread of the news that we would be cancelled.
Mobile ceiling mirrors that got a bit too mobile.
Happily a space was found. The long, narrow wood-panelled Lunchroom was nothing like as grand as the area denied us but it introduced new possibilities for the dynamic and, most importantly, the show would go on. Our performances were scheduled for 6:45pm, 7:45pm and 8:45pm.
Sign of the times.
Again we warmed-up, again we rehearsed while dressed. The search for a new venue meant we were running late but at last, come five past seven, we got the call to walk clothed to our stage. This was our moment.
The programme.
Our bit inside.
Performance
There are doors at each end of the long Lunchroom, one of which had been screened off to hide the performers prior to commencement. We entered at that end; lights were dimmed to an absolute minimum. We stripped naked and waited silently in the gloom while our public hubbubbed through the far door and began lining the walls. Already it seemed a much larger crowd than we faced in Sion.
Lunchroom at the V&A, © JocJonJosch.
As audience murmurs subsided we each prepared to step forth. Peter J was to be our gatekeeper, assigned the task of releasing us one by one from behind the screens at intervals of about five seconds.
The door at far end was closed.
Settle… settle…
Silence.
Anticipation.
And then…
Joc and Jon led the way. Others followed. I was perhaps eighth to step out; solemn, emotionless, slowly pacing towards the small cluster of bodies that had begun forming at a distance. The considerable length of the room enhanced the spectacle. In Sion we each walked perhaps three paces to join the group; here it was more like twenty, trailing a comet’s tail of nude figures in our wake.
I made contact. My body pressed into other bodies, and more bodies pressed around me. We churned and turned and shuffled and milled. At the centre a lone body began its struggle to escape the throng, pushing out through the perimeter and immediately rejoining the mass. Prior to a body leaving they would tap the shoulder of a neighbour, thereby nominating them as the next to attempt escape. This was the cycle. This was Ouroboros.
We continued in this fashion for perhaps ten minutes. In wordless darkness all human senses were assailed with the muskiness of energetic skin, the light wafting breezes of our movements, the heavy slap of stumbling feet on floor tiles, and the succulent kisses of flesh on flesh.
The narrowness of our room brought an unexpected tension as it seemed we might tumble into the audience at any moment. It never happened, yet the possibility remained constant throughout our performance.
A loud double clap from Jon sounded the moment to begin our exit. From now on anyone bursting free of the perimeter would continue walking back to our screens at the same measured pace with which we’d made our entrance. One by one we left the scene. I was among the last to depart.
For unquantifiable moments, a silence reigned… and then came applause. And relief. Our first London audience had bestowed its approval on us. We dressed; the audience filtered out and we returned to our backstage room. The opening performance may have started late but it had gone very well indeed.
Our second performance began on time for what seemed like a slightly larger crowd, with slightly more lighting in the room. Perhaps because our confidence was high this one felt a bit rougher in our mass, but otherwise went equally well. Applause followed directly on the heels of the last performer’s exit, and resonated more richly. We also had our first primetime celebrity present: Graham Norton had joined the crowd and later tweeted his congratulations.
A celebrity tweets.
We even managed to grab a few photos with him at the interval. Such shamelessness! An invitation to perform on his BBC show, however, was not forthcoming.
Graham and Carol, with Janet and me photobombing at the back.
In my opinion the third performance was the best of the bunch. By now we were well warmed up and so were the masses. Applause at its close was almost thunderous. Such was our popularity that we were asked to follow immediately with an unplanned fourth performance to cater for the large crowd still queuing outside. In all I would say we were watched by perhaps 400 people on the night.
Come the end of our encore, the applause began long before we’d even passed out of sight. I was last to pace off the stage.
Exultation
The audience left, the lights went up, and we posed for group photos before dressing for a final time that evening. As always, JocJonJosch were not found wanting in their gratitude for our efforts. Signed photo prints were given to all participants, including a special heat sensitive print for those of us who’d been in Sion.
30 of our 34 Ouroboros performers, respectfully blurred.
Our dispersal at the end of the evening was considerably less well coordinated than our performances. Regrettably I lost sight of several friends without saying a proper farewell. Chas, Clifford and I eventually managed to regroup in the cool night air and trek to the Hour Glass pub for celebratory drinks.
All was well in our world. After the initial setback of the room change, JocJonJosch had created performance experiences that exceeded anything we’d dared to imagine. When we remember Sion it is with an affection that can never be supplanted, but I felt these performances took us to a higher level.
In our post-event euphoria we dream of repeating the performances again and again as soon as possible. These rare installations are never recorded so they exist only in the memories of those who took part or witnessed them. Yet minimalism and exclusivity must remain if such intense physical art is not to descend into voyeuristic cabaret.
I count myself blessed to have worked with JocJonJosch three times to date: once for Existere and twice for Ouroboros. There is a purity, sincerity and thoughtful conviction in the way they’ve gone about everything I’ve seen them do.
Their art is real, it is corporeal, a precious ephemeral passage of life; to be cherished, never to be taken for granted. They deserve these big moments.
On Saturday it was my pleasure to be invited back as the model for a portrait drawing demo at Wanstead library. As per last year, it was part of a broader-based local arts and crafts showcase for the Wanstead Art Trail.
The idea was to promote the life drawing at nearby Wanstead House. I’d modelled there several times last year for the group’s organiser, Patrick. For this event, Patrick would be drawing my portrait while members of the public could take a seat and join in at any time.
We didn’t want to risk outraging public morals, so my clothes would remain on. I took my seat on a low platform, and fixed my gaze on the bottom right corner of the mural behind Patrick. As he began marking his blank page, so I slowly made myself blank.
In the first session – 11am to 11:50am – we had a number of curious passers-by, but only a couple of people stopped to take part. In an adjacent corner the children’s face painting seemed to be busiest. Still, Patrick was on good form and come half-time he already had the makings of a good likeness.
We bantered for a while over cups of tea, and then kicked off again for a final session, taking us up to 1pm. A few more takers sat down to draw but I suspected these were regulars at life drawing rather than potential new recruits. Leaflets were being taken by a steady stream of visitors, however, which was encouraging.
When the session was over I could put on my specs and at last see what Patrick had made of me. Masterful! His work was a better likeness than my passport photo.
I always feel a bit humble in these circumstances; privileged to have been honoured in this way. For my part, I’d remained sufficiently motionless to be described as “still life” by one gentleman. Not a bad couple of hours’ work for a substitute fruit bowl!
steve ritter 
