This was the last Wednesday evening life drawing class at Wanstead House before their long summer break, so I felt honoured to be booked as the model. It was another sultry evening with the fire door propped open to encourage the circulation of cooler air from outside. Generally the sessions here have a gentle pace, however, which means I can make diverse shapes without any danger of overheating.
Yesterday evening in Nunhead I worked through ten poses in the first half, yet here I was only asked for three. I opened by standing for 15-minutes with one arm over my head, the other arm reaching across my belly, and legs in a natural stride. Next, I sat on the floor for 15-minutes, legs bent horizontally with right foot to left knee, and then for the remaining 30-minutes I sat on a chair that had been draped with sheets.
After a relatively long break of half an hour – their last natter this side of autumn – the group’s organiser, Patrick, showed me the pose he would like for our final 30-minutes: sitting on the floor with upper body rested on a chair. I know from experience that this one is guaranteed to numb the arm that hangs farthest across the chair but it has the potential to result in quite elegant artworks, so I don’t mind too much.
One curiosity regarding the last pose is that this was the third time in as many years it had been requested as the finale of a Wednesday evening session here. One of the artists – Gian – has captured it from the more or less same angle on every occasion, which makes for a fascinating record of progression through time. I cannot think of an equivalent situation with any other group. How many more years, I wonder?
Wanstead House, 24 May 2017
It seemed such a tiny room at The Green in Nunhead; just 12′ by 15′, supposedly for a capacity of ten, yet by the end of the evening I was posing with my back to the wall for 13 artists. Nunhead Drawing Group is young in all respects – I believe this may have been only their eighth session – and with its freshness comes friendliness and a willingness to accommodate. Cushions had been heaped in one corner for me and, at 7pm, I disrobed to commence what would be a series of short poses.
We opened with four 1-minute poses: kneeling; thrusting; cringing; balancing. Next, a 3-minute pose as if pulling a rope, followed by three poses of 5-minutes: standing with palms facing outwards on top of my head; kneeling with both hands to the floor; and a cross-legged full lotus, with hands as if in prayer. The first half closed with 10-minutes seated alongside the wall with one leg straight, the other bent, and finally, 15-minutes standing with one arm over my head and the other across my belly.
I cooled down with a pint of water during the interval. It was sufficiently warm that we’d had a fire escape window wide open throughout the session. We fitted four poses into the second half: 20-minutes seated, folded sideways to hug the cushions; 15-minutes seated upright, with one knee raised and arms making a T-shape; 5-minutes standing with legs crossed and arms crossing my chest; 5-minutes upside down, rolled on my back with knees to chest. All thoroughly enjoyable! Hope to do it again some time.
I’d never before seen so many artists crammed into The Sun. Word had gone out that The Moon and Nude was presenting a couple life drawing session, and the good folk of Clapham had turned up in big numbers. At least 30 people were surrounding Esther and me, mostly shoulder to shoulder along the walls, with a few seeking other vantage points wherever they could.
We opened with a 10-minute pose standing side-by-side facing in opposite directions with arms out. Next for 15-minutes Esther was standing while I sat embracing her left leg – it’s a pose we’ve used several times as it switches our relative heights. The last pose of the first half saw us seated face-to-face on the floor. There was some contact between our limbs, but this one was more about eye contact and emotional contact.
After a break for refreshments, we curled together in a reclining spooning embrace of 40-minutes. It may seem self-indulgently lazy, to lay down half-asleep for what would be our longest pose of the evening, but actually we chose this as it guaranteed every artist would have a clear view of both bodies and the composition provided. Plus, this was indeed a ‘couple’ pose – more than a duo pose.
There was time at the end for one final pose of 10-minutes. We stood again, now with slightly wobblier limbs that put complicated balancing beyond reach, so we got into a repositioned variation of our opening stances. Applause at the end. It had been a very nice session, harmonious, warm, intimate at the heart of a crowd, interesting playlist; always a pleasure to be back with The Moon and Nude.
I was back on long poses for Hesketh Hubbard Art Society. It would be one 2-hour pose – one hour without a break, then a fifteen-minute interval for tea and a digestive, followed by a further hour without a break. Pose choice would be important. Crucially in this regard, on arriving at Mall Galleries I was approached by three portrait artists, each wanting to know if I would be laying down or sitting down (actually, I was toying with the idea of standing). Sensing their intent, I agreed to sit suitably for portrait.
I would be seated on a cushioned bench with my back to the wall between two large oil paintings. I’d arrived with time enough to try a few positions that could work as an interesting nude life pose, whilst being upright and facing forwards for the portraitists. The only one that felt immediately comfortable, and hopefully sustainable for an hour at a time, had my left leg crooked horizontally on the bench, right knee up, and both hands on my right shin. Decision made, I wandered off for a look around.
When it was time to start I settled into my chosen pose… but something wasn’t right. Small positional details make all the difference. Whereas I’d been comfortable before, within moments I was feeling little prickly pains up my back and a dull ache in my left buttock. Why? who knows – something imperceptible I’d done differently – but artists had started making their marks so I felt committed. I passed that first hour with micro muscle movements to alleviate stress without causing distraction.
When the hour was done I creaked and groaned to my feet. Reassuringly I could see excellent works were underway – somehow, good art can compensate for all kinds of soreness. On resuming the pose I found my original intended position without prickly pain or dull aches, but by now the damage was done. Mind games and more muscle manipulations got me through. At the end, Esther came bounding in – she’d been on 30-minute poses next door – and all was well. The artists had done us both proud.
When the Anglo-Swiss-Slovakian art collective, JocJonJosch returned to Switzerland in February, Esther and I went too. Their latest exhibition, titled ‘ o o o ‘, was to be hosted by the Manoir de la Ville de Martigny, and its opening night highlight would be a performance of ‘Footfall’. The work had premiered at Laure Genillard gallery in London on 25 November last year. Esther and I were part of its second performance in December, and I’d participated in the third and final performance on 3 February.
Tuesday 14 February
Having volunteered for the Martigny installation, we decided to extend our stay further and enjoy a mini-holiday in Switzerland. This began with a Valentine’s Day flight from Gatwick to Geneva. We’d booked AirBnB accommodation both here and in Martigny, and for one more night back in Geneva before flying home. It was late afternoon when we arrived and found our apartment on the southern side of the lake. That evening we acclimatised with a fine pinot noir in the evocative surroundings of Au Coin du Bar.
Lac Léman or Lake Gevena, as you prefer.
Wednesday 15 February
Next day, after al fresco coffees in brilliant sunshine at the lakeside Cottage Café, we made pilgrimages to Hotel Eden, followed by the United Nations Office at Geneva: the Palais des Nations. Esther’s mother had resided in the former for a few months as a baby in the 1950s, whilst her grandparents worked as World Federation of Trade Unions representatives to the International Labour Office in the latter. This history trail kept us absorbed till dusk, when a ferry took us back south. I do like a mission.
As one with art inside the Palais des Nations.
Where diplomats come to speak, listen and ignore each other.
The M4 ferry from De Chateaubriand to Pont Noir at sunset.
Thursday 16 February
More clear sunlight and cool air greeted us as we checked out of our Geneva AirBnB apartment to partake of coffees, brownies and tea at Cottage Cafe, before boarding a train to Martigny. All was going smoothly as we enjoyed fine scenery along the north side of Lac Léman. 20 minutes before we were due to arrive, however, our plans went crashing off the rails (metaphorically) when our AirBnB landlord in Martigny texted to say we could no longer stay with them. Apparently their hot water supply had failed.
On the 2pm train from Geneva, arriving in Martigny at 3:42pm.
We declined help to find alternative accommodation and instead used wifi at Martigny station to search online. AirBnB had nothing, and the cheapest hotel was significantly more expensive, but we had little choice – we began walking north. A good omen was the sight of two mudbrick ‘Raised Totems’ built by JocJonJosch in June. We checked into the adjacent Hotel Vatel and took time to relax. As darkness came we sought a reasonably-priced restaurant – not easy in Switzerland – but Siam Thaï would do.
Martigny by night.
Friday 17 February – Performance
We slept soundly in our hotel room overlooked by the Alps, not least because AirBnB emailed to say they would refund the difference in price of staying there. JocJonJosch themselves were contributing to our original cost of accommodation – they are always exceptionally considerate towards their participants. The performance of ‘Footfall’ was due to begin at 6:30pm today so after an improvised breakfast we went exploring; first to Château de la Bâtiaz, which we’d seen illuminated above town the night before.
Château de la Bâtiaz, overlooking La Drance river.
Esther, overlooking the modern town of Martigny.
Nude figure at Château de la Bâtiaz.
Naturally, with no-one else was about I couldn’t resist the temptation of an impromptu nude photoshoot. Esther took the shots with bemused tolerance whilst I made poses. Afterwards we wandered south to locate a seventeenth century café-restaurant called Les Trois Couronnes. This was another pilgrimage for Esther as she’d found out her parents had both dined there – entirely coincidentally – on separate visits before they were married. We dined there too: a superb meal of fresh fish and local Valais wine.
Outside Les Trois Couronnes.
Inside Les Trois Couronnes.
Rain began to fall whilst we ate – this would be our only day under cloudy skies – but it didn’t matter. After a fast turnaround back at our hotel, we headed out to the Manoir, arriving at quarter to five. We soon found our friends Glynis – with whom we performed in Venice and in Sion – and Stan, who’d been part of the second ‘Footfall’ in London, plus others who would be taking part in the performance. In total, we would be a “dirty dozen” comprised of seven women and five men – including Joschi of JocJonJosch.
Opening night of ‘ o o o ‘ at the Manoir de la Ville de Martigny.
Before the show, Esther and a ‘Raised Totem’.
A broad, murky disc of mud awaited us on the floor of a dimly-lit, wood-panelled room. This was our performance space. As the start neared, women went in first, undressed and covered their bodies from head to toe in dirt. The men then followed, and together we began slowly, methodically treading the filth; coherent as a mass yet idiosyncratic in our own rhythms. The performance was to be continuous for two hours, with guests wandering in to watch – standing, staring, mesmerised in the humid musty gloom.
Our mud.
It was warm, wearying work. The mud seemed to dry upon us more quickly here than in London. Single, double, triple claps were to signal half-hour intervals, but confusion reigned as the first clap was a double. The knock-on effect towards the end was it felt like we’d overrun by half-an-hour – but never mind, it made for more of an exhilarating relief when the installation was finally declared complete. Applause echoed round the room. It had been an intense and powerful shared experience.
Esther and Glynis, post-performance beneath the Manoir.
Performers were given white dressing gowns and slippers, then led out through a side door, across a square to an adjacent school where we washed in separate communal showers for men and women. Body wash, body conditioner and towels were supplied. Once dressed we joined the party: first in the gallery where wine, soup, crisps, bread, cheese, and meats were plentiful; then down in the cave-like club beneath the Manoir, where Lydia Lunch graced the walls, and Brits were first on the dance floor.
Saturday 18 February
We had one final day in Martigny to unwind and chill among the mountains. Blue sky and sunshine had returned. On our way into town we stopped by the ‘Raised Totems’. I’d wanted to be photographed with them and – of course – for me there could only be one way to do it. Whereas the castle had been isolated and deserted, however, these totems were on land bordered by two hotels and a residential street. It took a while to build up courage, repeatedly checking around for passers-by, but eventually…
Esther and totem in scenic splendour.
The smaller of the two totems.
Nude figure with Raised Totem.
In town we partook of coffees on a sofa outside Le Minotaure café. We’d fulfilled our purpose for being there and could now savour the simple pleasures, yet I wasn’t quite ready to leave behind the world of JocJonJosch. Our participation in the opening night of ‘ o o o ‘ meant we hadn’t had time to see the exhibition properly. Our last swigs of cappuccino took us past 2pm – opening time of the Manoir – so we returned to get a clearer look at works we’d glimpsed only fleetingly the day before.
All that was left of our ‘Footfall’.
With around three hours of daylight remaining, we set off for a hike through the valley. Heading north across the railway line, we bought some snacks from a roadside shop, then walked along country lanes to reach the mighty Rhône river. Snow-tipped peaks and yellow grass stood in silent observation as the sounds of traffic receded. We had no particular destination in mind but the river led us to a little town called Fully. Here we rested at Café Les Alpes before slumping into a bus back to Martigny.
Alongside the Rhône on our way to Fully.
Sunday 19 February
Still glutted with pasta from last night at Au Grotto restaurant, we lingered till quarter to twelve then bade a final farewell to our cosy room at Hotel Vatel. Le Minotaure café was closed on Sunday, so we had coffees at the bar next door before boarding a train for Geneva and returning to the same AirBnB place we’d left three days earlier. It was our last afternoon and evening in Switzerland but we were all out of energy. After a bit of token sightseeing, we took pizzas and wine back to our digs for a quiet night in.
At Martigny station, waiting for the train back to Geneva.
Monday 20 February
Our Swiss adventure was not yet over! After an early start to Geneva airport, we found ourselves at the wrong end of hideous queues to check-in our baggage, pass security control and get our passports scrutinised – finally running to the departure gate with a mere ten minutes to spare. It was an extraordinary end to a very special week. Whilst our purpose was participation in a physical art performance, we had been enriched by so much more: friends and family, culture and serenity, beauty and love. Oh, oh, oh!
The first twenty minutes life modelling for Drawing the Star at The Star by Hackney Downs is always a good work-out. An exhausting succession of ever-shortening pose times come faster and faster: 5-minutes, 4, 3, 2-minutes, three of 1-minute, and three of 30-seconds. The quicker the work, the greater the temptation to attempt something more strenuous. Muscles begin fibrillating and may either cramp or turn to jelly during or between each pose.
Two 10-minute poses took us to a break. For the first I perched on a low stool; for the second I lay on my back with my heels resting on the seat of a high chair; that was a new one. Democracy reigned after the interval when organiser Catherine Hall invited her dozen artists to choose between one 30-minute pose, three 10-minute poses, two 15-minute poses, or a 10 and a 20. Two 15s just shaded the popular vote. I abstained, but would have gone for the 10 and 20 myself…
For the first 15-minutes, I stood in the round with a twisted torso and one hand held to my forehead. To finish, I settled into a throne-like chair at the rear of the room, directly in front of the pub’s eponymous bulb-lit star. In addition to affording me a rest after my earlier exertions, I thought it should be a welcome opportunity for artists to try literally ‘drawing the star’ but only one gave it a go. As ever, artworks were then spread on the floor for general admiration. Catherine captured the scene superbly in photos.
The evening was rounded off with drinks at the bar, and outside in the cool London air. It was a perfect end to another enjoyable session with this wonderful group.
Having modelled on the final day of last term for Monday evening life drawing class at The Conservatoire, I wasn’t expecting to be back for the first session of their new term. Another model’s late cancellation meant I got the offer, however. As soon as the ten artists had prepared at their easels, I began with three standing poses of 1-minute each, followed by one of 5-minutes, and a ‘reverse Christine Keeler‘ for 10-minutes.
Tutor Victoria Rance called the latter a Spice Girls pose, but her reference was lost on me. My eyebrows raised when she explained I would have to straddle a chair – its open back would have made my version significantly more revealing than the portrait of Christine by Lewis Morley. Finally, the penny dropped when she said I should be facing the wall; it was to be a tasteful study of the back and sides.
The rest of this session was given to a single seated pose, with two 5-minute breaks at 25-minute intervals. Once again the position was arranged for me: facing forwards, open-legged (thus, revealing after all), and with a curved spine of the very kind I try to avoid when working all day at a computer. It was pretty comfortable though, and two ferocious heaters did a grand job of warding off the late April chill.
I look forward to returning one more time before this term ends.
steve ritter 
