At the end of a day in which fleeting flurries of snow had blown across London, it was with mild trepidation that I approached cave in Pimlico for an evening’s life modelling. It is a venue blessed with warmth, but mainly emanating from the hearts of those who work there. Apart from that I imagined its large lock-up exterior doors not necessarily being the last word in cold insulation. Happily my doubts were misplaced as a pair of fan heaters, hot underfloor piping, and a 1970s vintage mock-fireplace worked a treat.
Possibly I wasn’t alone in fearing the cold, as it seemed around half the regular artists had opted to stay at home. On the plus side, a couple of newcomers were present so we had a nice gathering. Pose times were as per my first visit here, starting with five 1-minute poses, two 5-minute poses and two 10-minute poses. For the first 10-minute pose I lay on the floor with my feet up on a chair. Whimpers from the group suggested this was a bit too taxing, so I made the next seated pose compassionately simple.
Hot mugs of tea with biscuits at the break were very welcome. My appreciation of the Tears for Fears CD played during my first visit – teenage-years nostalgia – had been noted, so I was treated to it again. In the second half, we were serenaded by Enigma while I stood with a broom handle across my shoulders, and then sat so my numb left arm could recover – both were 25-minutes. It was another relaxed, genial session in a space that feels as much about community as it is art. Cosy joyfulness on a cold day.
During its brief existence Nunhead Drawing Group had outgrown its first home and switched across to The Old Nun’s Head function room. I’d been fortunate enough to model for them in both venues, solo and in a duo with Esther, but it became unclear whether the group would return after its summer holiday as the three original founders all departed for warmer climes. Happily, three of the group’s regular artists have taken over, and I was very pleased to be invited back for session 05 of their autumn term.
Perhaps because it was London’s first truly freezing night of late 2017, the attendance was half what had been expected. Either that or artists were more greatly seduced by the ‘Drag Bingo’ going on downstairs. Never mind though, as it turned out to be a very positive session, and plenty warm enough. The first half was focused on quick poses: five of 1-minute, four of 5-minutes and two of 15-minutes. A great playlist of Japanese swing and obscure disco set the right mood and tempo.
After an extended drinks break, in which I was generously furnished with red wine, we finished with poses of 15-minutes and 20-minutes. By now the bingo caller downstairs had gone into overdrive – bellowing out his one-fat-lady and all-by-itself – but, between smirks and winces, we endured. The result was an impressively high standard of work from everyone present, displaying strong style and verve. It was good to be back, and even better that the group has returned.
Standing in a stride for 7-minutes with right arm held high, torso twisted round and left hand pointing backwards – this was the first ever pose for Life Drawing at Exhibit B, and I had great honour model for it. The session was organised by a friend, artist, and fellow life model, Lily Holder, whom I first met in 2015 as co-model for Art Macabre’s Watercolour Revolutionaries. I made sure to arrive at the Exhibit B bar a half-hour before our 7:30pm start to help ease any opening night nerves Lily might have.
If there were any nerves, it would not be for want of preparation. A curtained-off space at the far end of the bar had been exquisitely prepared, with all-new drawing materials placed out in labelled containers, chairs with boards and drawing paper arranged in a tight horseshoe, music connected to the in-house sound system, plus a notepad that held the names of everyone who had bought an advance ticket. Crucially, the notepad also contained prompts for all the challenges Lily would be giving her artists.
After the opening 7-minute pose we continued with short poses for the rest of the first half: three of 2-minutes, three of 1-minute, then 3-minutes, 5, 5, 7 and 5-minutes. The exercises included: drawing with the unfavoured hand, drawing with both hands, start with four geometric shapes, continuous line, shading only, and more. Lily’s approach throughout was to provide strong clear inspiration for the whole group rather than give individual tuition or critique; and the group responded well.
Poses after the break were a mathematically-pleasing sequence of 9-minutes, 16 and 25-minutes. The first two were timed to accompany single pieces of music, which Lily hoped would bring fresh stylistic interpretations. After standing and sitting on the floor, for the final pose I reclined with a twist – not least to be sure all fourteen artists would have a rewarding line of sight. Generous applause rang out at the end. Let’s hope the success of this inaugural evening continues in the group’s regular Tuesday slot.
Since the earliest World Naked Bike Ride events in the UK, US and Netherlands on 12 June 2004, the phenomenon has spread to six continents and dozens of countries. The UK itself now has rides in more than twenty towns and cities yet, up to the end of last year, I had personally only participated in London. It was time to go further, so the day after London Naked Bike Ride 2017, Esther and I caught a train to Brighton.
Welcome to the Brighton Naked Bike Ride
On the Level
The ride was due to leave The Level at 1:30pm so we aimed to get there half an hour before. A discreet enclosure for bike ride participants was at the north end of the park but we found naked people roaming about freely elsewhere – not least our good friend Rodger, ready with his sketchpad for impromptu life drawing opportunities – whilst live skiffle-metal-reggae-punk was being rocked out by the semi-clad Phantom Limbs.
Phantom Limbs… and roaming Rodger – © Darren Smith
A small team of volunteer organisers stood at the enclosure’s entrance to welcome us as participants and deter any voyeurs. We found the area already pretty crowded, with few clear places to drop the bikes. Nonetheless, we made ourselves at home, starting to undress and decorate; in contrast to London, I went entirely without paints but gave Esther a pro-Jeremy Corbyn ‘Jez’ on her front and a Spirited Bodies on her back.
Gathering in the bike compound
Preparations underway – © ecalpemos
Model and artist, always on duty
The weather in London had been idyllic, yet here by the seaside, just 24-hours later, it was patchy at best and not getting any warmer. Our only hope was that cycling would keep us fired-up. It wasn’t until around quarter to two that a noisier hubbub indicated it was time for us to move out. The enclosure’s mesh walls were taken down and slowly 600 nude bikers started syphoning off towards the south-east corner of the park.
Leaving The Level
Leaving the sunshine – © Reeeef
Down to the pier
Sheer weight of numbers meant it took almost ten minutes just to clear the footpaths around the east and north edges of The Level. Our speeds increased when at last we emerged onto open highway at Ditching Road and set a course south to the seafront, following St Peter’s Place, Waterloo Place, Richmond Place, Grand Parade, Pavilion Parade and Old Steine.
Accompanying the sound system down Ditching Road
Turn right at the Phoenix
We can see the sea!
Our friends Chas and Cy – and many other familiar folk from the London rides – were among our number. The mood was buoyant, but personally I was more subdued than had been the case in London. No waving, whooping or whistle-blowing in Brighton for me. Feeling more of a guest in this town, I was satisfied simply to observe and enjoy the occasion as played out by the locals.
Ah, a first taste of that fresh coastal wind
Chas sporting proper English gentleman’s beachwear – © Graham Brown
Chilling on Hove Lawns
After we’d turned onto King’s Road in front of Brighton Pier, the sun took one last look at us then disappeared for a long rest behind murky white clouds. In place of its warm attention, we were buffeted raw by bitter winds. Maybe the joy of being beside the sea distracted us from these conditions at first, but the further west we went – from King’s Road to Kingsway – the more we cringed against the relentless chill.
Towards the charred skeleton of Brighton’s old West Pier
Passing the ghastly ‘British Airways i360’
Upon arriving at the area of Hove Lawns nearest The Lawns Cafe, it was time for us to take the first of two planned rest breaks. We lay down our bikes and huddled together on the grass for warmth. A shower of blessings upon the young guy who saw we were cold and offered a blanket to put around our shoulders. We would be lingering here for almost 20 minutes, so its woollen sheltering embrace felt like heaven.
Chilly times on Hove Lawns
Pre-blanket, cuddling for warmth (any excuse!) – © Chris
From Hove to Brighton
Towards the end of our time on Hove Lawns, Esther nipped to the loos and must have been inside only a matter of seconds when the whole ride began moving off again. By the time she emerged, I was a solitary naked figure holding two bikes in the middle of a field. Having tired of the cold, she sensibly pulled on her cardigan and leggings, and together we hared off in pursuit of the vanishing pack.
Covered up on cold Kingsway
Leaving the coast for now
A pause on St Aubyns
The next leg of our route started along the seafront at Hove, turned right at St Aubyns, and right again into Church Road. So began a long return via busy retail streets to the centre of Brighton. Church Road led into Western Road, which in turn took us through a bus lane to North Street, then a right down Ship Street, a left fork onto Prince Albert Street, continuing along Bartholemews, around and down Little East Street.
JEZ WE CAN! Another Corbynite on Western Road
A bit freezing, a bit sun-pinked, but still smiling
It says something for the people of Brighton that whereas Londoners – or, more likely, London tourists – cheered us all around the capital, the south coast’s stout residents remained coolly impassive. Several hundred naked people cycling in the town centre? Meh… whatever. There were pockets of approval but I suspect our protest against car culture and oil dependency was largely preaching to the converted here.
Turning south-east on North Street
Back towards the seafront on Ship Street
Old Steine Gardens
With scant enthusiasm, we turned left from Little East Street to the cold-blown King’s Road again. Not for too long, however, as a left turn onto Old Steine led us toward the second of our planned stops, at Old Steine Gardens. We found the Phantom Limbs had relocated to serenade us beside the fountain here, and we found Rodger too, with yet more opportunist art in mind…
Back into the biting breeze
Choose your wheels
Phantom Limbs – electric bass and flip-flips
Arty interlude
A few years ago Rodger, toyed with the idea of staging an inversion of clothing and nudity between genders in Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe by Édouard Manet. Now finding he and I were naked, with Esther dressed, he smartly realised his chance. Wine was already poured, Cy would kindly take the photo, we shifted into position, and duly improvised: Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe revisited.
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe – Édouard Manet
Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe revisited – © Cy Wol / Rodger
The Lanes
After about half an hour amid capers at the gardens, we got back on our bikes and set off from St James’s Street, north along Old Steine, taking an age to cross the junction with Marlborough Place before continuing north on Gloucester Place and sweeping left into Gloucester Street. Another left into Sydney Street began our descent through The Lanes on Kensington Street, North Road, Jubilee Street at 4pm, and New Road.
Upstaging the Royal Pavilion on Old Steine
Musical accompaniment
Ye Olde King and Queen on Marlborough Place
Into the Lanes on Sydney Street
Brand new buildings, same old backsides on Jubilee Street
East through Kemptown
Emerging from The Lanes at North Street, we veered left and continued on into Castle Square, then back along St James’s Street, crossing Old Steine twice. From here we started a long ride east through the Kemptown area, heading down Upper St James’s Street, Bristol Road and St George’s Road. Whether we were now more sheltered, or perhaps encouraged by the impending finish, somehow we felt warmer and cheerier.
Eastbound on St James’s Street – © Graham Brown
More smiles on St James’s Street
Sunshine returns as we hasten to the beach
Naturism
Eaton Place was our right turn off St George’s Road, down towards the sea again and back into sunshine – at last! We travelled a short way east on Marine Parade before a hairpin turn sent us freewheeling down Duke’s Mound, and one final switchback at the bottom put us on Madeira Drive. Half a mile later, we reached Blackrock Car Park and Volk’s Electric Railway station – the end! Hooray!!
Going down on Duke’s Mound
Madeira Drive – the last leg
Made it! Blackrock car park, by the beach
Outside Volk’s Electric Railway station – absolutely bloody freezing
It was about twenty past four – a bit over two and half hours and 13.7km since we had left the The Level. Now at our journey’s end, we found ourselves on Brighton Naturist Beach. With great glee, many of our fellow riders hobbled off across the pebbles for a celebratory dip in the waves, but Esther and me… well, all we wanted now was to get back into our clothes, warm up with a hot meal, and share a nice bottle of wine.
Going for a dip? No, thank you!
The organisers reckoned that of the 600 people who started this ride, just 500 made it to the finish. Perhaps the cold got too much for those who dropped out. We all craved more sunshine, yet even with cloud cover I managed to get horribly burned – it’s likely I’d lost all the natural protective oils from my skin when soaping off body paint the day before. This whole weekend had been a learning experience. Brighton – I’ll be back!
One can be fairly certain one has found the life drawing room at a new venue if there’s paper taped over glass panels in the door. I entered the upstairs function room at The Great North Wood in West Norwood and was greeted by Richard – organiser of the new life drawing group there. I’d known Richard as a frequent artist at Mall Galleries, and only last week he’d drawn me with the Tanner Street group. Now it would be my sincere pleasure to pose for one of own sessions.
The place was clean, bright and spacious. Lighting had been specially rigged over the space where I was to work, easels stood in an arc and a table by one side was laden with complimentary materials. I began with four 2-minute warm-up poses, followed by 5-minutes inverted with my feet upon the back of a chair. After 15-minutes sitting with a twist, I was asked for 15-minutes squatting in a semi-balance on my toes. This was a real strain on the tendons, and required a break halfway – rare for a short pose.
Following an interval, we finished the evening with a single long pose that lasted about 50-minutes, with a stretch break halfway through. At Richard’s behest, I recreated the same seated pose with which I concluded last Wednesday’s session in Tanner Street. As the time passed, he alternated between working on his own drawing and offering a few useful tips to other artists. These are early days for the group so numbers are still low, but it’s an ideal venue with an encouraging atmosphere. Let’s hope it grows.
My journey to 47/49 Tanner Street is relatively short but as it involves walking across Tower Bridge, I allow extra time in case I’m unlucky enough to find it raised. It hasn’t happened yet, so again I arrived comfortably early. Co-organisers Xanthe Mosley and Cliff Barden were busy setting up the large but surprising warm ground floor space.
Checking back on my blog I could hardly believe it had been fully two and a half years since I’d last modelled at Tanner Street Life Drawing – albeit I posed here as part of a sound bath event for Spirited Bodies in December 2015. Where does the time go? This evening it went with pose times of 5-minutes, 5, 5, 5, 10 and 15-minutes.
After the 15-minute pose – a signature upright stance with one arm over my head and the other crooked behind my back – we had a break for tea and biscuits. One pose of 50-minutes would fill the second half. Xanthe asked what I had in mind as she liked to draw portraits. I settled into a twisted seated position that shared me in the round.
My left hand went numb within quarter of an hour of the pose starting. I was permitted to shake back life into it halfway through but subsequently realised I hadn’t returned it to its original position. Happily there were no complaints and the drawings were great; not least Xanthe’s portrait in her diary. Good to be back.
“Bring props!” was the farewell suggestion when Esther and I left The Prince Regent at the end of a fine duo session last month. We’d been blessed with two bookings for SketchPad Drawing this term, and organiser Lisa was thinking ahead to the second. I’m not flush with props myself, so my preparation was to arrive first and buy the wine. Esther, on the other hand, rocked up with rope, bridal veil, bow and arrow, shimmering wings, sparkling dress and some kick-ass heels.
We had a greater turn-out of artists this evening so, alas, unlike last month we weren’t able to pose together for the whole session. Instead, we began in separate rooms; me bare with the rope and Esther in brilliant clothes that reduced to just wings and socks. We opened with a 10-minute standing pose then followed it with three 3-minute poses and three 5-minute poses. For 25-minutes up to the break, I was asked to reprise one of my shorter poses – laying down with feet resting on a level above me.
Whilst we were posing, Lisa had clearly been making assessments. She decided that for the second half it must be possible to bring all the artists together in a single room after all. Esther and I would embrace across a pair of tables in one long pose – Esther in bridal veil and heels, and both of us with half-full wine glasses to hand. After slightly too long luxuriating into position, we were set fair for the duration. Only one movement subsequently proved essential: Esther sneaking a swift sip of Rioja.
It was a lovely evening with a great group, as is always the case here. It got a bit brisk at times, but we had props and each other for warmth. Only the bow and arrow did not get used – I’d last seen them in action for Esther’s performance of Girl in Suitcase at the Telegraph Hill Festival 2015, and we’d used the veil and rope together for Girl in Suitcase at Telegraph Hill Festival 2016. Happy memories… and each new session brings more.
steve ritter 