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.
At the time I decided on a long walk to The Bull in Highgate, I’d not reckoned on this winter’s first major snowfall hitting London that very evening… and hardly had I set off from the station when a paving slab tilted, filling one shoe with freezing water from the puddle beneath. Grimly, I squelched onwards through Christmassy prettiness.
I banged all the snow from my umbrella, brushed more from my coat, and entered the downstairs bar. The Jolly Sketcher life drawing would be taking place upstairs, and I had arrived with ten minutes to spare. Group organiser, Tanja Hassel showed me my pose space and I helped as best I could with her remaining preparations.
It was my first time visiting this pub. Something about its name – “The Bull” – had me imagining a gloomy spit-and-sawdust place, yet here I was nude beneath chandeliers with a soft carpet under my feet, enclosed by pale turquoise walls. Well, it’s Highgate after all. Oh, and the poses? Two of 5-minutes, two of 10, and two of 15 to begin.
A single hour-long pose – or more likely 55-minutes – completed the session after our break. I settled into a very comfortable seated position, so when Tanja offered me the chance to stretch midway through, I was happy just to carry on. Happiness increased further at the end when I found my wet shoe and sock had dried. Complete success!
For a time, when life drawing moved from what was once a vast church hall space on the ground floor of the Garrett Centre, down into its community workshop basement, each session was split between two rooms with two booked models…
These days there’s only one model in one room, but I thought: how that second room would have been handy tonight! Through all my five and a half years of bookings here, I’d never seen so many people turn up to create art.
Group organiser, Adrian Dutton did an extraordinary job of welcoming everyone and finding enough room for each person to observe and draw. My central space with two large gym mats seemed luxurious accommodation for one, yet utterly walled-in.
When the session started at 7pm, I opened with a 15-minute standing pose. I located the optimum off-centre spot from which to give the clearest views along the maximum number of sight-lines. Five 1-minutes poses followed, then 5, 10 and 20-minutes.
© Adrian Dutton life drawing (Instagram)
After our break for hot dhal, tea, wine, custard creams and jelly babies, we concluded the evening with poses of 20-minutes and 30-minutes. Concentration in the room was palpable. It’s an environment in which I love to work; friendly crowd, inspiring focus.
Bo Diddley on play and optimism for a full house greeted me on my arrival at The Old Nun’s Head. Vagaries of the London life drawing scene, however, meant we didn’t get the masses who attended the week before, but it was still busier than my last visit.
We began the session with five 1-minute warm-up poses. Artists captured loose lines whilst I created various angles. Next I stood for 15-minutes, and – with no consensus on pose times for the next half-hour – I suggested two more 15-minuters to follow.
That concluded the first half. Forty-five minutes remained for us after the break, so we started with a 10-minute standing pose. As per another previous visit, I took up one of the pub’s candle lamps and struck a dramatic, if somewhat Dickensian stance.
For our remaining 35-minutes I sat down on pillows. It was a comfortable way to close the evening. I enjoy immersing in the music played here, and the serene spell was not even broken by raucous ‘Drag Bingo’ that had come to life downstairs.
Whatever the circumstances, Nunhead Drawing Group has wonderful sessions run by very nice people with fine taste in music, set in the atmospheric function room of a characterful London pub. Recommended for a top Tuesday night in south of the river.
This was lovely. On my last visit to The Conservatoire I had a chill in my bones that not even three fan heaters could help shift, but now – mid-January – I was set up with an industrial-strength ceramic heater plus two small radiators. The ceramic heater on its own emitted so much heat that the radiators were immediately redundant. Bizarre then, to start with “warm-up” poses. Three of 1-minute, 5-minutes, 10-minutes…
I had it in mind that for the long pose, from 8pm to 10pm, I would offer to stand. It was surely time for me to remain upright again; or so I thought. Tutor Victoria Rance had other plans, however. Having recently rediscovered an old drawing of me in the foetal position, she was inspired to get me curled up once more. I duly lay down on my side, pulled my ankles towards my body and hooked one arm over my head.
I stayed in this position for three quarters of an hour up to the first break, which lasted about 10 minutes. For much of that time I was shaking numbness from my upper arm, but at least I’d avoided aches and pains. No such luck when we resumed, alas, as my hooked arm soon started complaining. I rode it out until the second break, then rode it out again to the end. All in a good cause, though – some very neatly proportioned art.
Whilst I’d personally enjoyed a three-and-a-half week break from life modelling over Christmas and New Year, Life drawing Aldgate and Shoreditch continued without missing a weekend; one session each Saturday, two on Sundays. Its reward for such reliability is an ever burgeoning throng of artists at The Dellow Centre.
On the first weekend of January, I was booked for the Sunday morning slot. I started with a 15-minute standing pose, then progressed through quick work of 3-minutes, 2, 1-minute, 45-seconds, 30, 15 and 7-seconds, down to two poses of 15-minutes each that took us up to half-time.
It was quite crowded, but with room for one or two more people. One person who duly filled a gap during the break was Esther. She would be modelling for the session that followed mine but arrived early to sketch my second half work. The group’s organiser, Tim, handed me sticks to use as props and I resumed with two 20-minute poses.
With a little under ten minutes till the end we still had time to fit in four poses each of slightly less than 2-minutes. I evolved and revolved, 90 degrees with each change in position, from kneeling up to standing. Tim gave thanks and generous applause was forthcoming. Most artists then packed up and drifted away, but I stuck around.
I decided to return the compliment and draw Esther. We had just half an hour between sessions, but this was ample time for the room to refill beyond capacity. I’d never seen it so busy and reckoned there to be 47 artists plus Tim, me and Esther. 2019 looks set to be a bumper year for life drawing here in east London.
With only a dozen days to go till Christmas, my year in life modelling came to an end at the Royal Inn on the Park. I treated myself to a large red wine, then prepared the space by placing my white sheet over the way too ambitious pose illustrations on the venue’s yoga mat, before aligning with a solitary yet entirely adequate fan heater…
And so to work. I struck a suitably dramatic 10-minute upright pose to get us started, then moved to a sequence of three 2-minute poses before lengthening out with poses of 5-minutes, 10-minutes, and 15-minutes. Exactly 12 and a half minutes remained of the first half, so I saw them out as I’d begun: on my two feet.
Artwork by Peter Dobbin.
Artwork by Peter Dobbin.
Artwork by Ed J Bucknall.
Artwork by Ed J Bucknall.
After an interval, I resumed with what would be my last two poses this side of the first weekend in January. I began by sitting on a chair for 30-minutes with one knee raised and one arm resting upon it. Then for a final 30-minutes I stood with hands behind my neck and elbows winging out above my head.
Artwork by Peter Dobbin.
Artwork by Ed J Bucknall.
Artwork by Peter Dobbin.
For no-one’s satisfaction except my own, I’d intended to end 2018 with a tough pose, and this was it. Regrettably I had to shake out my ever-tightening left arm a couple of times towards the end, but it seemed not to disturb the artists. One even kindly gifted me their drawing – Christmas had come early here in north east London.
steve ritter 