Duo bookings tend to be infrequent as the cost of paying two model fees is prohibitive for many groups. As a life modelling couple, however, Esther and I do sometimes get more work in the weeks either side of Valentine’s Day. In fact the increase in demand is such that we were booked by The Moon and Nude for this life art session at The Victoria Stakes way back in November. Shop early to avoid disappointment!
Group organiser, Julia greeted us when we arrived but then, as she was feeling rather poorly, left us in the very safe and capable hands of her partner, Edward. The three of us together agreed pose timings for the evening, and at 7pm we started with warm-up poses – two of 2-minutes. This is way too short for capturing two figures so we began solo and swapped ends of the room at the change-over.
The structure for our poses together was to be three of 15-minutes each, taking us to an interval, then two of half-an-hour to complete the session. For the first of these, we stood in an embrace. Posing in the round, however, we can’t cuddle fully front-to front as all any of the artists would be able to see is our backs. Ergo we arrange ourselves into a sort of semi side-to-side alignment. It’s less comfortable but more drawable.
For the second 15-minute pose we sat close together on the floor, gazing face-to-face but bodily apart, with just hands making physical connection. The first half ended with Esther sitting on a stool and our bodies once more hugging sideways. After the break we resumed with Esther standing and me wrapped round her legs, and finally I sat on the floor while Esther lay across my lap. Serene.
The session overran, but we were quite content. Our efforts appeared to be very much appreciated by those drawing us, and there were some superb artworks to show for it. Edward and Julia are among the nicest, most attentive and considerate organisers for whom we have the pleasure of working. Lastly a word about the creation below, called a “landscape of limbs” by the chap who drew it. I like to think of it as… a ‘limbscape‘.
For reasons unknown my body didn’t feel tip-top today, but I would still do my utmost to make interesting shapes. I missed my train, so arrived at The Dellow Centre with only five minutes to spare, yet still ahead of most artists. When the session started, I opened with a 15-20 minute seated pose that I would reprise for the day’s last pose.
Artists continued walking in, such that we had roughly 25 present when we moved on to the quick-fire poses: 3-minutes, 2, 1, 50-seconds, 40, 30, 20, 15, 10-seconds. With each change, I rotated slightly clockwise and shifted stance a tad to create a dynamic sequence for those wishing to overlay their drawings.
I ended the first half with 20-minutes upright, and 17-minutes on a stool. After a break for tea and biscuits, we finished with one pose of 15-20 minutes and another of 20-25 minutes. Timings had become a bit vague towards the end but I was comfortable and content not to worry. Life drawing Aldgate and Shoreditch went fine.
On entering 47/49 Tanner Street – home of Tanner Street Life Drawing – it was as though my glasses had steamed over. I could vaguely make out people bustling about the ground floor area but they didn’t seem to be artists. Eventually I twigged they were clearing up after a fashion photoshoot… and they had been using a smoke machine.
When the mists had cleared and the fashionistas departed, I noticed what appeared to be a pigeon perched on a radiator at the far wall. I wasn’t sure it was even real but as I got nearer, it suddenly perked up. The venue manager said they’d been trying to catch it all day but with no luck. With our session ready to start, we agreed just to leave it.
I began with four poses of 5-minutes each, then went with 10-minutes and 15-minutes taking us to our break. After making a mug of tea and taking a few dark chocolate thin digestives, I turned my attention back to the pigeon. Now barefoot, I was able to creep stealthy behind it, and slowly, slowly, slowly… quickly snatch it with both hands.
The pigeon didn’t seem flustered at all. If anything, it was perhaps inwardly peeved at being grabbed from its warm perch and cast into the chill night air. After scrubbing my hands thoroughly, I rounded off my evening’s modelling duty with a needlessly painful 50-minute seated pose. Nice shape, but an ill-considered dangling leg. It happens.
I was asked to recline for the long pose on my last two visits to The Conservatoire in Blackheath, and before that I was seated, so I now felt a professional duty to stand. A plan was agreed in conversation with tutor Victoria Rance, but first I would begin with the usual short format: three 1-minutes poses, one of 5-minutes, one of 10-minutes.
The long pose we selected was one I had maintained for a mere 10-minutes only two weeks before with The Jolly Sketcher. On that occasion, I perched on the edge of a table with my back to a window. Here I would occupy a high seat on a platform that we pushed out of the round to allow artists to horseshoe about me.
Artwork by Gareth Williams.
This pose was due to last 2-hours, during which I took three breaks. As time wore on, my buttocks and the back of my neck became ever more achy, but never unbearable. Tellingly at each interval I could immediately walk out of position, whereas sometimes in more painful poses, it takes a few minutes for me even to be able to stand.
Artwork by Anthony Roe.
Some artists progressed a single drawing for the full two hours whilst others started a new work with every break. Whatever their approach, one couldn’t help but appreciate the conviction with which each focused on developing their unique style. Happily, they affirmed they’re still not bored of me, so I hope I’ll develop yet more with them too.
“Just confirming you are all good for modelling this Wednesday evening. I’m afraid the heating upstairs is not great…“. So began the email from SketchPad Drawing group organiser, Lisa two days before my booking at The Prince Regent pub in Herne Hill. This was slightly ominous as forecasts had it to be the coldest night of the year.
As ever, there would be two models alternating between two rooms. The group’s best heater was put in the coldest room whilst I would be starting in the marginally warmer room with a lone fan heater and a hot water bottle. I managed to incorporate the latter into one of my opening short poses: three of 5-minutes, two of 3-minutes.
Two poses of 15-minutes finished the first half. For the first I sat on the arm of a couch and stretched one leg on to a table in front. For the second I’d intended to stand but in the end I eschewed the idea and instead lingered low beside the heater. To be fair I’ve had colder nights modelling – I felt I was winning the battle for warmth here.
In her emails, Lisa had said it would be fine for me to wear warm, colourful clothes but the purist in me was keen to face the challenge of making traditional nude life drawing work. Nonetheless, during the interval I was back in my robe with hot water bottle held tightly to my body whilst I checked out the artists’ work.
I concluded the evening with a single pose in the chilly room with its superior ceramic heater. Indeed, I positioned myself so near to it that I started to feel in more danger of being barbecued for 35-minutes than frozen. All was well, though. A session that had augured much midwinter misery, turned out – against all odds – to be very enjoyable.
My modelling debut at the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich was not for a nautical-themed spectacular amidst briny curios, but rather a pleasant little after-hours session for staff. I was escorted to a large-ish generic conference room with its central space cleared of all furniture, and there got myself ready for our 5:30pm start.
A good worthwhile number of employees arrived for this workers’ playtime and settled down to encircle the white sheet I’d placed on the floor. We opened with four 1-minute poses then continued with two of 5-minutes, two of 10-minutes and one of 15-minutes to complete the first half.
During the break I talked with a few of the artists. One woman said it was her first time life drawing, and that right until the last moment she assumed she would be sketching “a bowl of fruit or some flowers“. In fairness, she responded to the sudden unexpected appearance of a naked man, with composure and an increasingly confident line.
We concluded the evening with two poses of 20-minutes. First, I lay down with twisted hips and fingertips touching across my chest. Then finally I sat upright leaning forward with both hands on the floor. More good natured conversation followed when we were all finished and packing away. Nice people, nice approach, well organised.
How long did it take for this moment to come? Artist Tony Swann had been phoning me on and off since mid-2017, trying to arrange a Sunday date when I could pose for one of his whole-day portrait sessions in Hampstead, but a staggering succession of other commitments had prevented me saying “yes!“… until now.
I arrived at Kingsgate Workshops about fifteen minutes ahead of our 10:30am start, and found a busy scene. With a certain pragmatic serenity, Tony was finding room for a twelfth easel in a studio that could just about comfortably accommodate eleven. An elevated chair awaited my presence at the hub of this horseshoe-shaped dozen.
The day was structured into six periods of continuous modelling, each for 45 minutes. At the halfway stage we would have an hour-long break for lunch, whilst other interval times for tea and stretching were limited to fifteen minutes. I settled on my throne and together we commenced our respective tasks.
Many models express the opinion that portrait modelling is tougher than life modelling. Poses usually last much longer, are less varied, require less creative input, less bodily effort, yet demand unwavering fixed attention to an immutable gaze point. It can be an intense test of mental stamina, wherein the main challenge is simply staying awake.
During the morning, I traversed the world in my mind. By the afternoon, I’d progressed to working out new passwords for my online accounts. And so on. The brain does not have to be kept entertained, merely active. Meanwhile, artists around me meticulously constructed various impressions of my head in oils and acrylics.
Inevitably most depicted me frowning – the curse of many a long-resting face – or just slightly glazed over, whilst a couple had me looking outright evil. I’m not, I promise! All had done well, however, and contributed to making a friendly atmosphere. I thoroughly enjoyed the day and was very grateful to Tony for his persistence in arranging it.
Artwork by Tony Swann.
steve ritter 