Thirty chairs were set in a quarter circle of radiating ranks that faced one corner of the room. Their eyeless attention was directed towards a vintage suitcase that lay across two small square tables pressed against a cold fireplace. A brace of large gongs were hanging adjacent, surrounded by an array of bowls, pipes and percussion instruments; the tools of a soundbath maestro. We had lights, we had cameras, and it was time for a little action. It was time for…
Girl in Suitcase is Esther Bunting. It is an ever-evolving performance that celebrates female power and the natural human body through story-telling, theatre, dance, music, life art, and audience participation. For this return visit to The Telegraph at The Earl of Derby for the Telegraph Hill Festival, Esther would be ‘Lady Summerisle’, joined by Soulwaves sound artist Sarah Kent, our friend Cy and me: “with the turning of the season and the shedding of a skin, we let go of old ways and usher in the new.”
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
In my guise as an unlikely Lord Summerisle – figure-hugging dress, wild hair, lashings of mascara – I closed the suitcase with Lady Summerisle curled inside and sashayed downstairs to signal time for ticket-holders to enter. Speed was of the essence, albeit a theatrically nonchalant speed. Everybody was welcomed and invited to take drawing materials, though many brought their own. When the last latecomer had settled I gave a sign for Sarah to take up her penny whistle and begin playing ‘We’ll meet again‘.
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
Artiste! Surrealiste! Improvisateuse!
This was to be a show in four parts; starting with wartime surrealism, moving on to the modern muse, flaring with ferocious feminism and culminating with the construction of a highly unusual sacrifice. When Sarah’s penny whistle and my accompanying kazoo fell silent, Cy stepped forth as Roland Penrose to introduce an extraordinary refugee from 1940s Paris, that he’d found in an unattended suitcase – “An artiste! Surrealiste! Improvisateuse!” – and at long last Esther could come up for air.
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
Perfect me in pastel! Ignite me in ink!
Esther’s dress and mask, together with my own and other masks in the show, had all been handmade by genius designer, Estelle Riviere Monsterlune. So exquisite was the crimson devil outfit worn by Esther whilst portraying her own fictional grandmother, that only the artist in her natural state could be an improvement. As Sarah gave a last rendition of ‘We’ll meet again‘, so Lady Summerisle peeled out of layers and began to share her own stories as a modern-day life model.
Nude standing poses, movement to the sounds of a gong bath, shawls and a pink hat for nostalgia… whilst a captivated audience sat sketching, or simply entranced. In the midst of it all, an invitation was extended for one of them to try modelling. Hands were raised and one volunteer selected; he undressed and stood bare for 5-minutes. Before the first half ended, a second volunteer was summoned and he too posed naked while wave after wave of gong shimmers engulfed us. Both first-timers, they did very well.
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
Do not underestimate the power
A short interval allowed our audience to descend as one and recharge their glasses at the bar while the performers changed costume. For Esther, this meant covering up; for me and Cy, it meant quite the reverse. When all had returned to their chairs, the three of us re-entered the room. Esther climbed onto the tables and – with a naked masked man standing either side in a surrealist court of law – delivered an impassioned call to action for every woman: “…wear whatever the fuck you like and join the revolution!”
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
Our wicker person! Who is willing?
The words “Testimony… Sacrifice… Rebirth” on the event’s advertising, along with the presence of Lady and Lord Summerisle, may have suggested a probable denouement to fans of legendary 1973 movie, ‘The Wicker Man‘. We would build a wicker person! Out of naked bodies! More volunteers – good friends, all – emerged from the audience and were assembled into tableaux that could be held for 5 or 10-minutes. Artists drew each wondrous construction whilst Esther and Sarah made music.
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
There were four wicker persons in total, starting with four volunteers creating a head, a body and two arms. By the end they’d gained two legs and even had myself appended as a spare limb. Esther and Sarah played ‘Gently Johnny‘ on violins, and later Sarah played pipes while Esther sang ‘How do (Willow’s song)‘. It was a magical, beautiful finale to a special performance that had been embraced in a warm, joyful spirit of body positivity. Esther gave her thanks and took heartfelt applause. Bravo, Girl in Suitcase!
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
Let us look at people’s drawings
We’d expected the performance might last 90-minutes but ultimately it ran for 2-hours. Everybody present was invited to draw throughout and some marvellously characterful sketches emerged. Thank you to all who shared their work!
© Irene Lafferty photo and drawing
© Ruty Benjamini photo and drawing
© Irene Lafferty photo and drawing
© Sophie Park photo and drawing
© Sophie Park photo and drawing
© Sophie Park photo and drawing
© Irene Lafferty photo and drawing
© Ruty Benjamini photo and drawing
Cast and credits
Created and performed by:
- Esther Bunting – largely autobiographical writing, with a little fantasy
- Sarah Kent – Soulwaves sound shaman
With the hugely appreciated support of:
- Cy Wol – Roland Penrose
- Steve Ritter – Lord Summerisle
- Estelle Riviere Monsterlune – costumes
- Lidia – filming
- Judit Prieto Rovira – photography
- all at Telegraph Hill Festival
- The Telegraph at The Earl of Derby and all who work there
- Aladdin’s Cave London for the suitcase
Esther’s inspirations:
- the many artists and classes for whom I’ve had the privilege to model
- ‘The Militant Muse‘ by Whitney Chadwick – a gift from Valentina Rock
- ‘Crappy Living‘ blog and the incredible woman who writes it – some text in Scene 3 was used with kind permission from ‘How to look good at forty and overthrow your government‘, a post shared by Lucy Saunders
- ‘The Wicker Man‘ original film and all who created it
- my father Edward for the violin
- my mother Sara, and all my grandmothers, for their stories
I’m not an actor. I wince as I recall missing part of my only significant line and coming in too early with my kazoo… yet my intonations in the style of Christopher Lee were appreciated, and of course everyone loved the dress. OK, I can be a show-off, and I’m always happy to donate my body for art, but really I derive most joy simply from being able to work with such talented people and support Esther in her creation of incredible performances. Girl in Suitcase is Esther Bunting.
© Judit Prieto Rovira photo
This corporate booking was unforgettable even before it began. City Academy made the arrangements; they asked me to arrive half an hour early, emailed me a reminder three days before, phoned me the day before, and then phoned and emailed with just twenty minutes to go. I suspect this high level of attention was due to some previous model having failed to show up or give notice. They need not have worried, though.
We started with five 1-minute poses…
…followed by five 2-minute poses…
…and continued with five 5-minutes poses….
…leaving time for just a single 10-minute pose to end the first half.
It’s fortunate that the opportunity to create many quick poses is always quite inspiring for me as the pose space itself offered little sensory stimulation. The large silent room was without any source of natural light; there was no music, no chatter, no countdown of time, no temperature fluctuations or uneven flooring, just a phone beep that signified when it was time to change pose, plus the diligent scratchings of half a dozen artists.
After a break that lasted slightly longer than expected, we had time for two 20-minute poses that would complete the session. First I sat side-saddle on the floor and tipped back on my hands, numbing my left arm in the process. Finally I stood with one hand on my neck and the other (numb) hand on my hip. There were smiles at the end, and hopefully everyone was happy. Certainly I was… even in such a curious environment.
Increasingly I find that if time allows, I prefer a leisurely journey to my bookings and to arrive anything up to half an hour early. This evening I did just that – got myself a large glass of wine at The Old Nun’s Head bar and relaxed a while before heading upstairs to be greeted by the lovely people of Nunhead Drawing Group. Short poses first.
I’ve felt relaxed with this group from my very first time here. Like me, they favour quick poses but as this was the final session before Easter they decided to try some longer ones. After opening with five poses of 1-minute and one of 10-minutes, we finished the first half with two of 20-minutes. For the first of these, I held aloft a small lamp…
Having spotted the lamp sitting above a fireplace, I’d set my sights on standing with it for what I assumed would be 10-minutes. By the time it turned out to be twenty, I was already mentally committed – fortunately it was relatively lightweight. I drank my wine and chatted with artists during the break, then settled down for one long pose to end.
Whilst I remained comfortably static for the whole 40-minutes, a number of the artists chose to swap seats midway through so they could continue working fast. As always here, I appreciated their fine playlist – that Flaming Lips album during the second half was perfect. Indeed, everything was very good tonight, and the art a joy to behold.
Just like last term at The Conservatoire, I found myself booked for the final Monday evening life drawing class before it broke for the holidays. The day was a pleasant one and I arrived sufficiently early to find exuberant students and parents from a preceding mixed media course still nattering in the main art room. Time was on our side, though. Come 7:30pm, I began with five poses in the round: 1-minute, 1, 1, 5 and 10-minutes.
The shorter poses are a chance to have some fun making semi-random shapes before we start the main work of the session. A slight misjudgement of my positioning for the 10-minute pose – with toes, tendons and arms fully stretched – made that one slightly less fun, but never mind. For the long pose I helped tutor Victoria Rance shift our set against one wall and arrange cushions so I could sit with arms out for about 2-hours.
We started around eight o’clock and continued till ten with two stretch breaks at forty minute intervals. Someone stated early on that I looked like a Roman emperor but by the end it was agreed I seemed more akin to Bill Nighy in Love Actually. For me the most important thing was to endure in comfort; my greatest challenge was to resume with exactness after each break – I think it went pretty well. Bring on the next term!
The four models working for Hesketh Hubbard Art Society this evening were: Esther on 15-minute poses, me on 30-minute poses, Tiziana on the long pose, and Valentina sitting for portraits. I arrived at Mall Galleries almost half an hour early yet there were scores of artists already present; circling Esther’s area in greatest numbers, but I had a good crowd of familiar faces too. My opening posture was upright.
I had begun with arms slightly outstretched but only so far as I knew could be held for 30-minutes. Whilst they’d tired slightly at the end, I still fancied following with another standing pose up to the interval – this time in a modified stance with both arms folded close to my body. After tea, biscuits and mingling, I settled myself for the second half in a seated position with my body leaning forward and both hands firmly planted.
I reckon the third pose went down reasonably well as an artist approached me to ask my name during the few seconds before the next one. To finish I pivoted and reached towards the gold life-size nude male sculpture that had loomed over me in the gallery exhibition space all evening. I don’t think anyone troubled to capture both figures. I’m sure that, like me, they prefer it when my duo poses here are with Esther.
Life at Mycenae House began with an anatomy lesson. It was my first time posing for the artists of Life-drawing at Mycenae House where the session was to start with a study of the leg. I asked tutor Jon Long how he would like me to pose for it; “In the life model style,” was the inevitable reply. I removed my robe and put my best foot forward while he described to the group in exquisite medical detail all the bones, muscles and joints. I was impressed. Four 10-minute poses followed.
Having never modelled here before, I felt safe cycling through some of my old favourite poses, whereas at repeat booking places I’m increasingly at pains to be more diverse. The original plan was to stand for each pose but after struggles with my height for the first two, I was asked to sit on the floor for the third. After standing again for the fourth we had a break then resumed with a single long pose to the end. The request was for a twisting reclining pose. No bother.
‘No bother’ in the first thirty minutes became discomfort nearer the end of our last half hour. Midway through I shook out the arm that I’d bent back under my head and found it to be completely floppily numb. Time was easily passed however, as Jon’s on-going observations, advice and encouragement made for interesting listening. At the interval, he’d debated the nature of perfection as understood from the writing of Spinoza… but this is very much a relaxed, easy-going group with great community spirit. I enjoyed.
A short-notice booking from City Academy sent me to London’s West End where on the top floor of Arts Theatre in its Pigeon Loft studio I found tutor Stephen Nicholas. A splendid chap, he had pre-arranged for heaters to be switched on much earlier, and he gave me licence to time myself for some “very short” opening poses. I started with two of 1-minute, one of 3-minutes and one of 5-minutes.
Stephen was engaging with his small group throughout, providing encouragement and advice, and finding out what challenges would interest them. One said foreshortening, another asked about movement poses. Ah, movement poses! Very well. First I strode four steps towards the artists; a pace, then freeze, a pace, then freeze. Next I walked from side to side across the room, four times in a slow smooth continuous action.
As the act of walking is the act of continually unbalancing oneself, a very slow walking pose – or freezing mid-pace – can be more strenuous than it might seem. No problem though, especially as for the remainder of the evening I would be seated with my heels up on an adjacent chair. Very comfy, and an ideal pose for practising foreshortening. In all, this turned out to be an interesting, interactive, thoroughly enjoyable little session.
steve ritter 