It was set to be the hottest day of the year so far with temperatures higher than 30°C but, before fleeing to the coast for cooling sea breezes, I first had the small matter of three hours’ morning modelling back at Lochaber Hall. We started with, of all things, ‘warm-up’ poses: six of 5-minutes and ten of 1-minute.
For the 1-minute poses I reprised my sequence from the Dellow Centre last Sunday, in which I made as if to be lifting and throwing a heavy weight. I followed this exertion with a 10-minute pose seated on the floor, then arranged myself to commence a long pose that would fill the remainder of the session. I was specifically asked to recline.
I hadn’t slept very well the night before so a chance to lay down was to be welcomed. Nonetheless I always feel guilty, as if lazy, not truly working for my pay. I was told the previous male model had stood, however, hence repose was the preference now. My work ethic had to be satisfied with the maintenance of many angles instead.
This long pose lasted 45-minutes up to a break for tea and digestives, then resumed for a further 45-minutes to the end of our session. Although the day was warming up outside, temperatures stayed surprisingly cool inside the hall. Apart from a numb leg that revealed itself only when I tried to stand, it was a comfy start to a lovely day.
A short-notice message from Lily Holder – group organiser, tutor, artist and fellow life model – lured me over to Peckham to pose for a class at the South London Gallery. We would be working in a light, white room on the second floor of a former fire station that now serves as an annexe to the main gallery, just across Peckham Road.
This was to be session number four of six in a structured course that Lily was leading. The main theme of the session would be hands and feet – had I realised in advance I would have tidied my nails! Lily set the scene with an inspirational message writ large across papers taped to the wall: HANDS + FEET ARE A BLOODY NIGHTMARE!!!
I had undressed but, as we were only focusing on hands and feet to begin with, there was no need to remove my robe; no distractions! We started with three 1-minute, two 2-minute and two 5-minute poses as a warm-up. Lily encouraged techniques such as blind drawing, single-line drawing, looking long before mark-making, and so on.
Given that hands and feet are a ‘bloody nightmare’ to draw at the best of times, there were some outstanding efforts from this quick work – the feet in the image above, for example, were drawn without looking at the paper. The next pose would be full-figure so my robe came off and I sat on the floor for 20-minutes, hands and feet to the fore.
After a break for refreshments, one long pose of 40-minutes brought the session to its close. I sat upon a chair, comfortably wrapped in my own arms, enjoying Lily’s playlist and listening keenly while she offered advice. The group was receptive and the whole evening had a friendly, upbeat vibe. Time passed quickly; no need for a stretch.
In addition to hands and feet, there was a bit of emphasis on portrait study during this last pose – another notoriously tricky skill to master, so the novice artists were getting a solid workout here, but always in an engaging and instructive way. Their theme next week would be ‘simplification’ – I’m betting that’s more complicated than it sounds…
Hutton Community Centre was my destination for a Life Drawing Class in Hutton with The Drawing Hut. It would be my debut modelling in this neck of the woods, not too far from home as the crow flies, but a bit more circuitous by public transport. After a long walk down from Shenfield station, I arrived plenty early for a 7:30pm start.
The curse of the warm evenings struck again. By the time we were due to begin there was still only me and the group’s organiser – Stephanie – in attendance. Unperturbed, we got underway with a 5-minute pose. Another artist, Tony joined us and together we agreed to abandon plans for a lot of short poses, and instead have a single long pose.
I didn’t choose the most comfortable standing pose imaginable but Stephanie timed it in four 20-minute chunks with a 5-minute rest break after each, and a 10-minute finale. By the third chunk my back was feeling the strain, but time flew by as aspiring young cheerleaders in an adjacent room relentlessly counted their beats from 1 to 8.
Although we had just a brace of artists and despite me not picking a comfy pose, this was actually a very pleasant serene session. It was interesting to chat with Stephanie and Tony, who are both experienced as artists and familiar with the life drawing scene, and it felt good being able to give them this unexpected bespoke long-pose evening.
For a time it looked like this could be another session to suffer low artist numbers due to the fine weather. Only a handful of people were present a minute or two before our 11:30am start. By the end of the first 15-minute pose, however, attendance was up to almost 25. Life drawing Aldgate and Shoreditch is still pulling the crowds.
After the opening it was time for what the group’s organiser, Tim, calls “three-to-three“. It’s a set of a dozen poses from 3-minutes to 3-seconds: 3-minutes, 2, 1, 50-seconds, 40, 30, 25, 20, 15, 12, 7, 3-seconds. I sequenced them as if raising a heavy weight to my left shoulder then throwing it. Creative modelling! Two 20-minutes poses followed.
For the first 20-minutes I stood with a broom-handle vertical behind my back, holding one end above my head, the other below waist-level. Next I perched on a small stool for 20-minutes with my left leg extended and left hand clutching the back of my roost. This took us up to our break for tea, biscuits and a lot of friendly chatter.
There were to be two poses after the interval: first for 10-minutes standing with knees slightly bent and both hands reaching over to my left; second for half an hour back on the stool, leaning forwards. I picked the poses, Tim finessed the locations. Back a bit, or – in the case of the latter – back all the way to the wall rather than in the round.
Windows were ajar in the early afternoon warmth. Without my glasses I had to squint at the shifting light as they opened and angled in the building opposite – not because of a dazzle, but to see what was going on with the person seemingly craning my way. Doubtful they were gawping at me… not that I care. It was a nice day. Peace to all.
Having tailgated through the security entrance, I sat a while in the deserted reception area as my umbrella dripped gently in one corner. Fortunately I’d missed the heaviest downpour before having to walk north London’s streets to this corporate booking from City Academy. At 6pm, I was collected and led to a large cool windowless room that had been clinically prepared for life drawing.
This is a group that likes its short poses. I began with five 1-minute poses followed by five 2-minute poses then progressed to five 5-minute poses. With so many very quick poses it’s less of a physical challenge and more an exercise of imagination to present a variety of interesting shapes, both in succession and across the whole sequence. A single 10-minute pose completed my work for the first half.
After a break there was enough time left for two 20-minute poses. I sat restfully on the floor for the first of these, then took it in mind to be on one knee for the second. I soon realised that the latter decision had forfeited any likelihood of a comfortable end to the session – aside from the pressure on my kneecap, it meant balance depended on my muscles rather than gravity and bone-loading. But it was nicely drawn.
I wasn’t long into my opening 15-minute pose upstairs at The Bolton, naked with my back towards the door, when I overheard Adrian Dutton saying to persons unknown: “Are you here for the drawing? Did you want the toilets? Just having a look around? I bet you didn’t expect to see that…”
That’s the thing with drop-in sessions: literally anyone can drop-in. But it was another warm and thus quiet evening, so they would have been welcome to stay. A set of five 1-minute poses followed, then 5, 10, 15-minutes to an interval. It surprised me when I felt a slight ache during the 10-minutes as I’d been doing well to avoid pain recently.
After a long break for craft beers and chat, we resumed with another 10-minute pose that was entirely different yet still ached like its predecessor. Taking more care, I then managed to see out the night with comfortable poses of 15 and 30-minutes. All’s well that ends well, especially when there’s some great art to show for it.
I often wonder whether being an art ‘institution’, with all the formality it implies, carries an obligation to accept the burdensome millstone of tradition. Everything must always be as it is now and ever was: setting, format, practice, ambiance. In Pimlico, however, cave is constantly evolving as: “a space on a mission to find itself and its place in an ever changing throw away world…”
In practice this means whenever I enter the second-hand retail area of cave, it always seems to have undergone a new metamorphosis. In this session, the area cleared for life drawing had migrated to the rear of the shop. Over time it had been shifting in that direction, having started just inside the entrance gates and been a bit more central on my last visit. Where and how the bric-a-brac vanishes is a mystery of the universe.
One thing that never alters is the warm welcome from head cave-dweller, Karen. She looks after her models and artists with equal attentiveness, always bringing a positive energy to the occasion. Having fired-up the group, she then gets us started with short dynamic work: five 1-minute poses, two 5-minute poses and two 10-minute poses, as Ladysmith Black Mambazo serenade us in style from the old CD player.
During the interval that follows we’re all offered tea, wine, chocolate chip cookies and ginger snaps. I accepted a drop of red, as is my pleasure, and chatted with artists till we were ready to commence the second half. The beat moved up tempo as the pose times got longer; I sat on the floor with my right arm resting on my crooked right knee for 25-minutes, then stood with hands behind my neck, elbows up, for 20 minutes.
Come the end, artworks were placed across the floor for general admiration. Karen’s phone battery had died in the act of signalling the session was over, so I took photos of drawings for us both. Another change at cave has been the average age of artists; from being predominantly mature this is now a very youthful gathering, but the merry banter has been consistent throughout. This is a lovely place for art… for all.
steve ritter 