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!
Back at the Garrett Centre in Bethnal Green for Adrian Dutton. The turn-out of artists was good, and as usual they would be working at desks arranged in a square, with a few opting to stand further back at easels. I was to pose at the centre on a judo mat.
This evening was primarily about quick-fire dynamic poses. I’ve decided I prefer these sessions to the longer poses. Whilst they can be more challenging in that many more poses are required, and there is an unspoken expectancy for imagination, originality and variety throughout, still the constant change keeps it interesting with less chance of aches or numbness setting in.
We began with the usual 10 minute pose to give latecomers a chance to get settled, then followed it with five one-minute poses, two of three minutes, one of five minutes, another of 10-12 minutes and finally 15 minutes to take us up to a break.
During the break – in which tasty rice, snacks and tea were served – I had a very nice conversation with chap who was new to the group, and enthusiastic both about his art and the pace at which the group allowed him to develop. It’s pleasing to get that more rounded feedback about the way life drawing sessions as a whole are working well.
The second half started unannounced, at Adrian’s subtle request, with me setting into a five minute pose. A standing pose of fifteen minute followed, after which, unusually, we went into second set of five quick-fire one-minute poses. A step ladder was then brought forth, upon which I stood in pose for 10 minutes.
Throughout the evening I’d alternated between standing, crouching, kneeling or sitting so for a final 25 minutes I fancied I’d earned a little relaxation and took it laying down, with legs somewhat knotted and both forearms raised.
I was jolted out of my reverie, however, by the sound of a commotion at the entrance. An unknown male had burst in from the street, rambling and shouting. He was fairly incoherent but it was evident that he would not be going quickly or quietly. This was an interesting development.
I decided that, whatever the problem, my job remained to stay still for the artists and only move if it seemed anyone’s safety was at risk. Adrian had taken charge of the situation and was calmly but assertively trying to get rid of the unwanted intruder.
Frustratingly, as I was on my back looking directly up at the ceiling, this scene was playing out just beyond my line of sight. I relied on my in-built proximity sonar (that one naturally assumes one has) to alert me if the whole carry-on spilled beyond the desks and towards my space.
Eventually our visitor was either encouraged or bundled out the door, and the session came to its timely end. I was told later the chap was drunk, had claimed to have been stabbed – he apparently showed an old wound – and proceeded to demand money. The police were called.
An incident such as this inevitably makes a session more memorable yet in fact it only occupied a few minutes out of a total two and a half hours, in which the artists had continued their work with serenity and produced some very good drawings.
It was with some caution that I left the venue to head home. In a nearby dark alleyway I ran into a rough-looking, grizzled, shambling drunk. As I stood at least a foot taller than him he seemed more startled by my sudden presence than vice-versa. Even so I was glad to get home intact and count this as another fine evening of life modelling.
It had been a hectic day of tying up loose ends at work. Next morning I would fly off on a week’s holiday to Menorca, for which I’d not even started packing. This evening’s life modelling would be a haven of tranquillity at the heart of my personal whirlpool.
I arrived at The Sun early, 20 minutes ahead of the scheduled 7pm start. Organiser Aless was midway through her preparations, with just artists’ materials still to be set out. I spread my white sheet at the centre of the pose space, changed into my gown and, with 5 minutes left for artists to arrive, we set to chatting.
With a minute to go we still had only four artists. I speculated this might be because England was playing football away to Switzerland in a European tournament qualifier that evening. Maybe, maybe not. We shrugged and Aless suggested I make a start.
The pose sequence for the first half was to be our usual 5 minutes, 4, 3, 2, 1 minute, then 10 minutes, 15, 20 minutes up to the break. Before even the first 5 minutes was complete, artist numbers surged to about 15-18. This was more like it! I was pleased to be giving Roy Hodgson’s boys a run for their money.
So I stood, sat, stood, curled, stood, sat, stood, sat, all the time alternating direction and pose for the artists that surrounded me on all sides. At half-time Aless called a 5 minute break. With artists stampeding downstairs to the main bar, this became more like 15 minutes, but it suited me fine.
For the second half I went 5 minutes standing, 5 minutes seated, 5 minutes crouching and 25 minutes reclining. This session felt good, and the artists seemed pleased: two criteria for success. The final attendance numbers made it a profitable night for Aless too. All in all a very nice evening in The Sun to send me off for my week in the sun.
steve ritter 
