It doesn’t take much shifting for a simple, sustainable pose to become challenging or unnecessarily achy. On Monday evening, at The Conservatoire, I was asked for six poses: three of 1-minute, one each of 5-minutes and 10-minutes, and a long pose for the rest of the evening. I managed to make half of them harder than they should have been and I think that’s partly because I have really come to love working here for this group and its tutor, Victoria Rance. They inspire me to try more.
For the first pose, I balanced on one leg, clutching my left foot behind me with my left hand and raising my right arm out in front. It’s a straightforward pose for most models but I have a high centre of gravity and spindly legs, so I was a tad trembly throughout. Standing, kneeling, standing followed – all without complication – but more trickiness came when I slouched diagonally on a high chair, with my left arm dangling back over the top of my head.
Without the extended limb, that 10-minute pose would have been easy. Inexplicably, however, within a few moments it went completely numb and became a dead weight bearing down through my angled neck. After about five minutes of this, the pain was horrible and I had to try shaking the arm back to life. We completed the full time, or maybe stopped a minute short, but I’ve never before experienced such difficulty with any pose this short.
For the long pose, Victoria asked me to curl up on my side in a foetal position whilst artists stood in a semi-circle around me. I opened the pose out a little, otherwise one would see just the top of my head, and another only my derrière. It should have been very comfortable – and mostly was – except I had placed my head on my left biceps, and twisted the other hand under my chin. Two timely stretch breaks kept the aches at bay, however. At the end, it was great to see the diversity of works created.
Esther was originally given this booking, whereas I was due to be at Garrett Centre on Wednesday the week before. A change of circumstances, however, made it a tad problematic for Esther, so I suggested a swap. The organiser of both groups, Adrian Dutton, was agreeable to the idea, and so it came to pass that I returned for another Friday evening’s long-pose session.
Long poses are never much of a joy, but the shorter warm-up poses here can be fun. Working in the round for about two dozen artists, I was asked to provide three poses of 5-minutes and one of 8-minutes. I stood dramatically then semi-reclined, stood up elegantly and sat openly. For the long pose I opted to stand with my left hand on my belly and my right hand on the back of my neck.
I guess I was on my feet from around 7:25pm to 8pm, and then after an interval, from 8:25pm to 9:30pm. I took two stretch breaks during that latter hour. The first of these was especially needed as my raised elbow had inexplicably become a heavy, painful burden. After restoring normal sensation, I was fine through to the close. Such is the occasional unpredictability of the body. Life modelling continues to reveal new truths.
Green Rooms describes itself online as “the UK’s first arts hotel, a social enterprise that offers affordable accommodation in a beautiful setting that inspires creativity.” It is also the latest venue to host The Moon and Nude for monthly life drawing groups. Esther and I travelled up to Wood Green, north London for our first experience of the place, and to début life modelling there as a duo.
We would be working in the third floor Gallery – a cavernous space with a high ceiling and large skylight, ornamented with Art Deco styled glass. Its openness could easily provide for a circle of thirty or forty artists but on this occasion we would be posing for seventeen – a healthy congregation, with room to move around. We began: 5-minutes standing, 10 standing, 15 with Esther standing and me embracing one of her legs.
The first half ended with Esther reclining for 20-minutes while I sat tenderly at her side. Recent warm spring temperatures had dropped this evening and we felt a slight chill in the last few minutes before the interval. Heaters were duly brought forth for our closing 50-minute pose, in which we sat side by side on a large bag of hotel laundry. Only the duration made this one less comfortable. The session itself had been a pleasure.
xxxx
In the Essex village of Hockley, about 6 miles to the north of Southend, a life drawing gem has emerged: cut, polished and sparkling. It was my privilege and pleasure to be booked as model for the first ever session of Hockley Life Drawing at The Old Fire Station – home to Hockley Parish Council. Upon arriving, I found chairs in a circle, a sheet awaiting me at the centre, and a superb buffet of refreshments for the interval.
If I’d been slightly apprehensive, it was because one can never be sure what teething troubles might beset a start-up group, or whether anyone would even come to draw. I need not have worried as 16 artists had already expressed interest, and all turned-up on the evening. We opened dynamically with no fewer than ten 1-minute poses, then lengthened to four of 5-minutes, before ending the first half with a 10-minute pose.
Tea, coffee, beer and wine, plus a selection of cheese and biscuits were taken during our break, after which I resumed with two more 10-minute poses. My dynamic poses had been a tad challenging to draw so, “by popular demand”, I made the first of these quite plain. The session ended with me seated on a stool for 20-minutes. It had been a joy to work here, and also to chat with so many nice people. I hope to return.
A Friday night performance with Monsterlune and the bugs, followed by socialising, drink and convoluted Night Bus peregrinations, meant I didn’t get to bed till quarter to three on Saturday morning. Ordinarily, this would have been fine ahead of a weekend lay-in, but his time I’d blearily set my alarm for quarter to eight. I figured that was the latest I could leave it and still travel south in time to start modelling for Croydon Life Drawing Group at 9:30am.
Mercifully, I felt much less of a zombie when I woke than I did just five hours earlier. I was able to twist, stretch and exert myself for the opening short poses of 5-minutes, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2 and 1-minute, working with my back to the wall for an arc of about 20-25 artists. Sleepiness only caught up with me during the next 16-minute seated pose. I flickered my way through it with heavy eyelids, before getting back to my feet for the 16-minute standing pose that concluded our first half.
Group organiser, Francis Wardale, demonstrated the semi-reclining pose he wanted me to hold for the hour and a half after our tea break. He’d seen images I’d blogged of it from Wanstead the previous week. It’s a lovely pose but one that’s guaranteed to result in numb arms. Even with a stretch break every 20-25 minutes, I found myself in a little discomfort. On the plus side, it ensured that though my limbs were asleep, the rest of me would remain keenly awake – and some very nice art would be the result.
Properganda June 2 – a Properganda night at The Others, Stoke Newington – was the occasion of Estelle Riviere Monsterlune and her assorted ludicrous caricatures crawling forth, for one night only, in the extraordinary manifestation-cum-infestation of Monstershroom and the bugs. And on this variety night of music, film, performance, dance and poetry, I was to be… their “sexy flower”.
I arrived at 8pm, pretty much as the doors opened, and found the venue already busy with performers. Unusually, it seemed I was last to arrive, but I wouldn’t be needed till gone 9pm so I settled onto a sofa with a glass of wine and witnessed the early action. This included short Super 8mm cinema by Thomas Eikrem and a quirkily entrancing piece of live soundscaping by the boldly spectacled Julie Rose Bower.
Julie Rose Bower – © Zac Zenza
The room was full of strange yet friendly faces; and masks. Next projected on the wall was The Secret Video Diary of a Fetishist by Zac Zenza. Zac was present and, as ever, lovely company. During an interval that followed, I slipped into my flower dress for the first time and Estelle trimmed it for length. Meanwhile, Akimbo Moonchild was a giant peach and Mai Nguyen Tri performed butoh dance – sadly I missed both.
‘The Secret Video Diary of a Fetishist by Zac Zenza’
© Zac Zenza
Getting flowered up backstage
Akimbo Moonchild – © Zac Zenza
Mai Butoh Dance – © Zac Zenza
Mai Butoh Dance – © Elodie Gonnard
The Bugs
Come twenty past ten, it was time for Monstershroom and the bugs to be oh-so weird and wonderful. The bugs first: Ben Hell was the black-masked, stripey jumper-wearing meta-musical master orchestrator at keyboards; Joe Newton, the silver soundsmith at his side; Takatsuna Mukai, the technicolour caterpillar technically on violin. If they had music in mind, it emerged magically as a strange skittering insect symphony.
© Elodie Gonnard
© Zac Zenza
© Antonia Penia
© Zac Zenza
Monstershroom
All costumes were Estelle’s very own handmade creations, and greatest of these was her astonishing Monsterlune mushroom apparel. Before revealing it, however, she first lingered out of view and added vocal accompaniment to the bugs’ bizarre buzz. When eventually she appeared before her audience, I could hear a boom of approval from my backstage seclusion. Voice and vibrations lilted and lunged in husky harmony.
© Zac Zenza
© Zac Zenza
© Antonia Penia
© Zac Zenza
Sexy flower
I had been given just three instructions by Estelle for my own participation in the work. First, I was to wait three minutes before following her out onto stage. As a life model, I am accustomed to counting down minutes, but to be extra certain I watched the clock on my phone. Time barely seemed to pass. When the third minute elapsed, a six foot four bloom sashayed elegantly into view.
© Zac Zenza
© Zac Zenza
© Zac Zenza
© Zac Zenza
My second instruction had been to contrive special movements like a flower. Not as in swaying whilst rooted to one spot, but… well, Estelle figured I would know what to do. I reckoned graceful and lithe was the way to go. And go I did; my third instruction was to rove about and get amongst the audience, weaving barefoot between sofas, rows of glamorous knees and the occasional trailing cable. Cameras flashed all around.
© Elodie Gonnard
© Elodie Gonnard
© Elodie Gonnard
© Elodie Gonnard
Together, the five of us were Monstershroom and the bugs – two boggle-eyed insects, one dazzling caterpillar, one exotic fungal chanteuse, and a rangy dancing luneflower. Our public loved us, and why wouldn’t they? Such refined buggery is a precious treat, even on a Friday night in Stoke Newington. This surreal indulgent hedonism lasted for an intense quarter of an hour.
© Antonia Penia
© Zac Zenza
© Zac Zenza
© Antonia Penia
© Zac Zenza
Applause at the end was profound. Estelle and Ben had created yet another exquisite visual and aural banquet of performance art cabaret. Happiness was shared and many photographs taken as we unravelled ourselves to the sounds of the last acts: Madame Sex Art poetry of Anne Pigalle and a closing outburst of radical folk from Corneilius Crowley. It had been a special gathering. Misfit perfection personified.
Uniqlo Tate Lates: Giacometti
Friday, May 26, 2017
6:00pm – 10:00pm
Tate Modern
“Art Macabre will be part of Uniqlo Tate Late for the first time. Looking forward to exploring the Alberto Giacometti exhibition, with Steve Ritter as our figure to draw from life (those Giacometti-esque limbs can be captured in pencil and also pipe cleaner sculpting). Plus a ‘vanitas‘ still life to sketch from. We’re one of several activities animating this iconic gallery after hours, including our friends from Death Café too, DJs, clay demos and a chance to see the exhibitions.” – Art Macabre
This was indeed a serendipitous alignment: the ever-marvellous Art Macabre invited to début at Tate Modern, Giacometti as their theme and me apparently the go-to London life model for poses in the style of his work. The open nature of the event meant it was decreed I couldn’t be nude, so I wore black leggings with bulked-out feet and wrapped black tape around my belly. Unusually for an Art Macabre event, I was the only model, but Esther came along to lend support. We were ready before 6pm so I began early.
Art Macabre’s director-supreme, Nikki, was calling the pose times while a small team of assistants was on hand to dispense drawing materials for drop-in artists. About half a dozen people were seated on chairs or cushions when we started, and their number grew steadily as the minutes passed. It wasn’t very long before we had a crowd. Pose times were short – 1-minute, 3, 5, 7, 10… never more than 15 – so I was getting quite a work-out, with no other Giacometti-esque model around to share the effort.
Notwithstanding my natural Giacometti-style build, I tried to make each pose relevant to his work. Some sought to recreate the shape of individual sculptures, whilst others focused on specific limb arrangements. For variety, I threw in a few random instances of self-expression, but these were the exceptions. Almost all were standing; only four poses in three and a quarter hours took the weight off my feet. Umpteen pipe cleaner models and sketches were collected by Nikki’s assistants for display behind me.
Around half-past seven, Nikki must have read my mind and asked if I needed a break. We’d attracted scores of people, but it couldn’t be avoided; I said I would continue for another quarter of an hour and then take a breather. Nikki announced there was to be an interval in which artists could practice drawing the vanitas… or perhaps volunteers would like to try modelling? Two young women stepped up and enjoyed their moment whilst I retreated to devour my complimentary cheese and tomato sandwich.
I had started at seven minutes to six (Nikki said), paused at quarter to eight, resumed at seven minutes past eight and would continue till half-past nine. The gathered horde of artists had not diminished in enthusiasm or size during my absence, so we carried on as before. I assumed that very few people would be going the full distance with us, however, so it would be OK to recycle a few poses. The atmosphere was superb, with music and merry hubbub all around – I confess, I rather revelled in being centre stage.
© Natalie Thomas
© Natalie Thomas
© Natalie Thomas
© Natalie Thomas
© Natalie Thomas
© Natalie Thomas
The last half-hour’s poses were 15-minutes, 5, 5 and finally 4-minutes in the style of a recognisable Giacometti form. It had been an extraordinary evening – I felt exhausted, elated, and emotional as warm applause reverberated across Level 2 of the cavernous Switch House building. With my glasses back on I could properly appreciate artworks that had been taped to the walls and find familiar friendly faces in the crowd. So much positivity! And so many fantastic drawings!
With the clearing-up all but done, Esther and I withdrew to the ‘green room’ on Level 4 where our bags were stored. I dressed and we ate our fill of backstage snacks, before heading to the Founders Arms where we quaffed red wine through to the small hours with Catherine Hall of Drawing the Star; it’s a shame Nikki was burdened with props and unable to join us. Art Macabre and Tate Modern had made a winning combination that will hopefully be repeated many times to come. I was honoured to be a part of it.
steve ritter 