It had been almost 5 years since artist Antony Crossfield last photographed me in a studio session for one of his projects. I never saw a finished work from that shoot, but the memory of it and Antony’s striking portfolio of works had stayed with me. Happily, he remembered me too, and knew Esther and I posed together as a couple, so when a specific vision took hold requiring a genuine couple in an embrace, he contacted us. It took a while to agree the date, but on 18 May we went to his flat for a shoot.
Preparation
Antony and his assistant welcomed us and – whilst showing every care and courtesy one would expect from true professionals – talked us through the concept. Before we began, Antony showed me the images he had developed from my previous shoot. To me they were extraordinarily wonderful but he wasn’t quite ready go public with them yet. I would love to describe them and the fascinating environment of wall-to-wall arts paraphernalia in which we found ourselves but, alas, discretion does not allow.
Creation
Quickly we set to work. Esther and I undressed, stood upon a little platform and took direction for our first embrace. We then continued in different rotations, with a variety of limb positions and shifting shadows. Again, I won’t reveal techniques but suffice to say our 2-hours flew by as we pursued the ideal shot. And I think at the end we got it. Less than a fortnight later Antony emailed us both with his finished work – a beautiful, tender, haunting, stark and very striking composition, shared below: ‘Forest‘.
Completion
It was a very fine evening as I walked up Tottenham High Road towards The Beehive pub. The new Tottenham Hotspur Stadium loomed staggeringly large on the not-too distant horizon; a dazzling emblem of progressiveness in this community. Likewise, at just £5 for a full evening of life drawing, Tottenham Art Classes is a great community asset… and a progressive one at that.
In addition to being one of the best value informal life drawing groups in London, they have extended their global platform by getting listed as an AirBnB Experience. Hats off to organisers Taz and Tom for this innovative stroke of genius. At 7pm, it was time for all items of clothing to come off as I started with short poses: 1-minute, 2-minutes, 3, 5 and 10-minutes.
The first half ended with two poses of 15-minutes each. When I arrived, Taz had been concerned that attendance may be affected by disruption on the Victoria Line – a dog on the tracks, of all things – yet as we approached the interval, our main concern was making sure I positioned myself somewhere that everyone in the crowded room could see me. Not so straightforward when the ceiling is supported by a central column.
The second half began with a flurry of quick-fire poses: four lasting just 1-minute each. We then finished at a more sedate pace. I stood for 10-minutes in my recent favourite ‘whispering’ pose, and lastly sat for our final 20-minutes. Somehow I lost track of time and thought there must be another pose to follow but, no, it was 9pm and we were all done. I’d enjoyed being back with old friends… and maybe some new AirBnB-ers too.
When I arrived at The Workshop N4, life drawing organiser Lisa seemed dispirited. It emerged that one after another, almost all her regular artists had contacted her to say they would not be able to join us tonight. Two were expected, but train troubles meant the finally tally was just one – a friend of Lisa – plus Lisa herself and me modelling. At least the two friends together would make it a good humoured session, and naturally I would give as much as if working for a hundred artists. I started with an upright pose.
After standing for 15-minutes I then sat down on a bench, making various angles and lines with my limbs. I held the position for 30-minutes, at the end of which I found one had drawn just my torso and the other my face! Ah, it happens. We took a swift break then concluded with two more 15-minute poses: first sitting, then standing. There was room enough for those drawing me to shift vantage points but this only occurred once; artists do like their favourite chairs. In all, it was a low-key but very jolly evening.
I had the great pleasure of being booked on a recommendation by The Croydon Art Society. Founded in 1878, it is considered one of the oldest art societies in England, outside of London. Its membership does engage in life drawing but on this occasion I was to sit for portraits in the rear hall at Christ Church Methodist Addiscombe.
This being an unfamiliar journey for me, I allowed myself plenty of travel time and duly arrived plenty early. I met Evi and Anthony as they were about to ready the room, so I set to work helping them arrange a horseshoe of tables and chairs. At its centre I had a chair of my own, a box upon which to rest one foot, and assorted coloured fabrics
Come 7:30pm, I settled down to commence what was to be a 2-hour session with one 15-minute interval for tea and biscuits. I was offered the chance to take stretch breaks before and after our main break but, having been careful to make a comfortable nest, I found these were not necessary and was able to remain motionless throughout.
Although the artists were mostly silent while working, their chatter at other times was friendly and sociable, as befits a long-running group. Some worked on one drawing all evening, whilst others started a new work after refreshments. It seemed there were as many styles as there were people present, and I enjoyed being the focus for each.
The Royal Academy of Arts presented its ‘The Renaissance Nude‘ exhibition from 3 March to 2 June 2019. It offered visitors a chance to: “Trace the development of the nude through some of the great masters of the Renaissance. Bringing together works by artists such as Titian, Raphael, Michelangelo, Leonardo, Dürer and Cranach, we shed light on a visual tradition at its most vital moment.”
Discreetly, on Saturday 4 May a private view had been arranged after-hours for guests who wished to peruse the Renaissance nude whilst nude themselves – to see it in the flesh, as it were. The event had been organised in tandem with British Naturism, and although I don’t consider myself anything so formally-defined as a naturist (I’m merely a naked person when I feel like it), all credit is due to them for this opportunity.
Esther and I, being a little late arriving, found our friend Rodger already stripped to his sandals in the foyer. We did likewise and proceeded to ascend the main staircase but our path was blocked by lines of naked people all posing for a group photo. We joined them in the front row without really knowing what was going on, but thought it likely to be an official record for the Royal Academy archives.
One thing that the group photo highlighted is the on-going tendency for these types of gathering to be populated overwhelmingly by middle-aged white men. I can’t complain because that’s precisely what I am myself, but it’s sad the UK still trails behind much of Europe in creating spaces and occasions where all genders can feel comfortable in their nakedness. Huge respect to Esther and other women who try to shift attitudes.
And so to the exhibition. The two big positives were: (i) some exceptional works were on display, for which the Royal Academy had clearly gone to great lengths in bringing them together, and (ii) fewer attendees at such a niche event meant no crowds and a much clearer view of the art. The negatives: (i) I didn’t find the overall arrangement as coherent as it might have been, and (ii) it was bloody freezing in there!
Titian – Venus Rising from the Sea, 1520
There was discussion amongst shivering naturists whether the lack of any discernible warmth was necessary to preserve the paintings. My personal view, largely motivated by a desire for self-preservation, was that most of these works had survived hundreds of years in a Mediterranean climate so another two hours couldn’t hurt. As it was, the excessive cold eventually cut short our visit and we fled to the complimentary teas.
This had been my first time attending an art exhibition while nude since the legendary Guerilla Galleries happenings of 2013 (1,2,3) and 2015 (1). One or two of those had been pretty chilly too as I recall, yet in the company of friends it’s surprising what can be weathered. Such conditions are perhaps not the most conducive circumstances in which to appreciate great art, but it’s the curious human experience that drives us.
Amongst all the usual life modelling paraphernalia on the floor of The Dellow Centre there was a rope, apparently left behind by a previous model. Well, what was I to do? For my opening 15-minute pose I hooked it beneath a corner of the wooden pallet on which I was standing, wrapped it round my shoulders and shaped as if to be pulling it. That’ll teach me to use someone else’s props; I was quite achy by the end.
Next was the quick-fire sequence. Life drawing Aldgate and Shoreditch organiser, Tim suggested a resurrection theme – as the pose lengths went down, I steadily rose up: 3-minutes, 2-minutes, 1-and-a-half-minutes, 1-minute, 50-seconds, 40, 30, 20 and finally 12-seconds. I think I reached peak resurrection at 30-seconds but hopefully got away with it. Two 20-minute poses – one with a pole, one seated – took us to a break.
The first-half poses had all been in the round, but after tea and chocolate biscuits Tim decided to rearrange chairs and easels so I could have my back to a wall for one final pose. He moved a wooden chair into position then demonstrated what he had in mind by sitting on it with hands behind his head, in a long low recline like a plank. “Can you hold this for 40-minutes?” he asked, “it’s a Euan Uglow torture pose.”
‘The Diagonal’ by Euan Uglow, 1971-1977
Like a heroic fool I attempted the position, but it was immediately evident that my long legs and body couldn’t even begin to balance like a plank across such a little chair, let alone sustain it. Tim confessed that the previous week’s model had also declined, and suggested modifications: sit up straight, bend one knee and have my hands down. So now it was a much more conventional seated pose. Sweet mercy.
I placed cushions beneath my backside, shoulder blades and both heels, then simply sat back and let the artists practice their skills for nigh on three-quarters of an hour. It was a painless pose, which was humane as my legs were still feeling the after effects of my initial ropework. The session produced a mix of fine drawings and fun drawings, which hopefully meant I did well. And Tim seemed happy, despite the lack of torture.
A motionless hour, seated upright, staring directly towards an unclear gaze point in an intensely blurred panorama of artists, each politely stationed within a tight semi-circle, either sitting with a sketchbook or standing at an easel: it was the first half of my pose as the portrait model for Hesketh Hubbard Art Society at Mall Galleries.
A work in progress at the half-time interval.
Everything is a blur to me when I pose without my glasses but somewhere in the mist was Tatiana Moressoni on 15-minute poses and Bella Franks on 30-minutes, whilst in another room Ed Bucknall was on the 2-hour shift. I wondered how many Hesketh members know that these three models are all very good artists in their own right?
This booking, my first for portraits at Mall Galleries since September last year, fell to me only the day before. Hesketh president, Simon had sent a reminder text message to his original model and found she had made other plans. Tatiana shared his call-out and into the breach I duly stepped… or rather, sat.
Sometimes portrait sitting can be a drowsy business, but I felt rather alert throughout this one. Within each hour, milestones were marked by the distant calls for Tatiana to change position every quarter. Time passed smoothly, with some nice artworks being the result – all quite different, yet each one somehow me. A pleasing session.
