I cannot remember the last time I wore a tie for office work – it’s all open-neck collars these days – yet I was wearing one for life model work on Wednesday evening; a hat too, but otherwise remained open bodied. Esther and I had been booked together for duo poses at The Cambria, so we decided to create a loose narrative. We began by standing back-to-back for 15-minutes, with Esther applying lipstick while I checked a pocket watch; then we both turned and Esther grabbed my tie for 15-minutes more.
© Tatiana Moressoni, Camberwell Life Drawing.
© Tatiana Moressoni, Camberwell Life Drawing.
I perched on the famous Camberwell Life Drawing sofa to begin our second pose, and intended to place my left hand on its back. On the spur of the moment, however, I’d grabbed the brim of my hat instead, and paid for that decision with the discomfort of an unsupported arm throughout. For the half-an-hour that followed, it was Esther’s turn to perch on the sofa whilst I took it easy in a recline on the floor. She’d pulled on her red stilettos and draped them over my body; no problem, except for one catch…
© Tatiana Moressoni, Camberwell Life Drawing.
Sprawled out beneath Esther’s legs, I was nicely comfortable until I needed to take a deeper breath, whereupon I felt a jolt of pain in my side. I didn’t know the cause but I knew I didn’t want a repeat of it, so my inhalations became gruellingly shallow for the remainder of that long pose. Only afterwards did we realise that a stiletto buckle had slipped between two of my ribs. Ouch! For two 20-minute poses after the break, I sat on a chair: first embracing Esther, then supporting her as she straddled my thighs.
© Tatiana Moressoni, Camberwell Life Drawing.
Our final pose idea had been entirely spontaneous. Only once underway did it occur to us that we might appear a tad too erotic for some tastes. Hopefully not. Indeed, if the resulting artworks are any indication then those present were especially inspired. After dressing and packing away, we joined our friend and group organiser, Tatiana, plus a few artists in the bar for drinks and chips. Camberwell Life Drawing remains a great place to model, to draw and to socialise – it’s always a pleasure to return.
This two-and-a-half hour class at The Conservatoire in Blackheath was to open with some rapid warm-up poses, then be followed by an hour standing and an hour seated. Rather than posing in the round, as has been case here previously, I was to be spotlit against a wall covered by textured material to capture my shadow. I commenced with three 1-minute poses, then stood for 5-minutes with one hand extended and the other resting upon my chest.
For a final short pose lasting 10-minutes, I sat upon the low platform in a manner that accentuated my limbs. Unexpectedly tutor Victoria Rance asked if I might like to be photographed in situ. She knows I always carry a small camera for snapping pictures of the artists’ work; now here was a chance to record their inspirations. She captured me from a few angles during this pose and the two long poses that followed – starting with the hour (or perhaps 50-minutes) standing.
The two main poses were both comfortable, but I accepted the offer of a stretch break during each. Only an achy left elbow from the standing pose needed any real shaking out. For the final pose I was to perch upon a high stool; we tried a number of postures until Victoria asked simply that I be ‘symmetrical‘ in a relaxed attitude, facing towards the spotlight. As I slouched in an embrace of warm air from the nearby heater, I could have happily nodded to sleep.
The last pose of the evening was also the last pose of this term for Victoria’s drawing group. Cakes were shared around as a celebration for those who’d enjoyed the class, and an encouragement for them to sign-up for the next term. I’m already signed-up to pose for one session in June. It will be my first time during the summer months and I can’t wait to experience this magnificent glass-roofed studio during the light evenings. Hopefully many local artists will be of a like mind.
Punctuality and reliability, for me, remain the most important attributes of a life model, and I was keen to arrive early for this session at The Sun. Regular Moon and Nude organiser, Aless was away and had handed the reins to her dad, Stephen – a frequent artist at the venue. I suspect I only got this booking because over the years I’ve been consistently on-time and low maintenance. Indeed, on this occasion I had allowed an extra half-hour for travel when setting out from home in Essex…
…so imagine my dismay, therefore, on finding the next two trains were cancelled and all others running horribly late.
No good ever comes of a lorry hitting a railway bridge. After much fretful timetable checking and journey re-planning, I realised it was likely I could do no better than be ten minutes late. The small mercy of excellent DLR and tube connections, plus a jog from Clapham Common station, meant in practice I burst through the pub door at five past seven. Inside, I found Stephen trying anxiously to phone me – he hadn’t picked up the text message I’d sent him an hour before.
Without further ado, I stripped off and plunged myself into the round of 22 artists – the most I’ve ever seen there – for an opening 5-minute pose. I still hadn’t got my breath back, and felt physically out of sorts, but the show must go on: 4-minutes, 3, 2, 1, 15 and 20-minutes up to a break. It was a relief to get through that first half intact. At the interval I robed and recomposed myself. I’d been shivery, had a touch of cramp and an unsettled stomach, but the postures held firm.
Two poses occupied the second half: 30-minutes sitting on the floor, and 25-minutes seated upon a high stool. These enabled us to over-run the session by 5-10 minutes as compensation for our late start. Honour was satisfied; I hope the artists were too. Certainly Stephen was more relaxed than when I found him. He’d reached a point of confronting the real possibility of having to model himself. I felt guilty for bringing him to that precipice – but, who knows, maybe one day he’ll want to take the plunge.
After two hours of Sunday morning life modelling at Wanstead House, I took the tube to Aldgate East and passed another two hours with coffee at Costa before starting my next session at The Dellow Centre. I was still a little bit achy from the previous work but had saved enough energy not to feel overly exerted. I arrived early, undressed, and opened with a 5-minute standing pose at 2:30pm sharp.
10-minutes of halfway-kneeling came next, followed by a somewhat strenuous upright lunge with palms on my temples for 15-minutes. After this, for 10-minutes I sat on the floor, before reprising my last pose at Wanstead for 20-minutes – horizontal with head and numbed-arms at a higher level – to end the first half. As sensation returned to my upper limbs, I gratefully accepted a mug of tea that was proffered during the interval.
A curiosity of The Dellow Centre is its popularity among cats, which simply wander in the art room and pace around us – exploring every corner whilst occasionally mewing for milk. I thought one might join me in pose when I lay down. Come the second half I used more conventional props: standing with both hands supported by a wooden pole for 20-minutes, then sitting straight-backed on a stool for 40-minutes.
Thus ended a busy weekend. My last energy was utterly spent, but it had been good.
As sometimes happens, I found the lower floor at Wanstead House fully occupied by worshippers of Grace Church. This was a tad awkward for me when I arrived, as they had congregated in the room through which the gents’ toilets are accessed. I deferred answering the call of nature and instead helped life drawing class organiser, Patrick to take the tea-making things upstairs to the Roding Room, where poses would begin at 10:30am.
As our start time neared, I sensed that nature would not be ignored much longer, so I could either pass through the ranks now or wait till later when I would be wearing just a dressing gown. I made my move and, with an American pastor preaching from their video screen, all Christian eyes duly followed me to the loo. I felt more self-conscious at that moment than I did five minutes later, when stripped naked with eight strangers scrutinising and sketching every detail of my body…
I began with 10-minutes standing then sat on the floor with much crossing of limbs for another 10-minutes. For 40-minutes, I sat on a low stool in an attitude vaguely akin to Auguste Rodin’s The Thinker, and finally – after refreshments – I lay on the floor with my head and arms resting on the stool for a hand-numbing 35-minutes. It was a quiet yet pleasant session as ever at Wanstead House, and particularly nice to see Patrick work on a couple of quick-fire oil sketches – praise be.
I inherited this booking from Lidia: artist, fellow model and friend who’d photographed Esther and me in January last year. She’d travelled to Germany where her anti-FGM film Adam & Eve had been selected to be shown during Berlin Feminist Film Week. Unfortunately, her return flight coincided with a strike by ground staff at Berlin airports; there would be no way to reach her next UK life model booking at The Create Place in Bethnal Green, so she called out for a replacement – and I got the job.
It would be my first time at the Life Drawing Salon but I had heard only nice things. On arriving I introduced myself to the group’s profoundly laid-back organiser, Nils. He had already texted me his pose plan for the evening: three poses of 2-minutes, three of 5-minutes, two of 20-minutes, then a half-hour break, and finally two of 30-minutes to end the evening. Tea, sandwiches and pastries were freely available at the interval and – most novel of all – each pose would be assigned music of the same length.
The ingredients for an excellent evening’s life art were all there so it was little wonder the small ground floor space was packed on all sides by artists. I barely had room to drop my robe and begin. Even the ceiling was close – for the first pose I held onto an overhead beam with one hand and reached back to grab a raised leg with the other. I bumped my head on the lights too, and found the atmosphere in the room hot and at times almost stifling, but truly I loved the intensity, enthusiasm and the playlist.
Working in the round, I turned my way through some tried and tested poses together with a couple of newer variations. When Nils brought the session a halt to at 9:30pm, there was much hubbub and banter. I photographed drawings whilst chatting with the artists – a few of them I’d recognised from other life groups. People will travel happily for the appreciation of their art. Which brings me back to Lidia and her film on female genital mutilation… Adam & Eve is an incredibly powerful work; it must be seen.
I entered Diorama Arts Centre and asked at reception for City Academy life drawing in the Apache room. Instead I was pointed to the Kodo room: “up the stairs, just follow the signs“. In that large bare white space, I found some orange chairs stacked around the walls, a few lamps on black poles, and our art tutor for the evening, Doris A. Day. He explained that this was the last session of a 5-week course so four poses of 20 to 30-minutes each would be ideal.
While Doris disappeared to fetch art materials, another tutor entered and borrowed all the lamps that weren’t chained to the wall. Artists started to arrive and organise their plastic chairs in a broad semi-circle facing my trusty white sheet, which I’d placed on the cold hard floor. In total, there would be nine drawing me. When Doris returned, he asked me to begin with a standing pose; I balanced on my right leg, held my left foot, and reached up to a ceiling sprinkler pipe.
I felt physically stable yet mentally wobbly in that first pose – possibly the result of a four-hour flight the day before. Doris called time after 25-minutes, then taped the nine drawings to a wall for our collective view. Next he asked for a 30-minute seated pose, so I settled down with my limbs knotted but comfortable. After a lengthy break for the purchase of hairspray, with which to fix charcoals, there was time for only one further 30-minute pose. I decided to stand again, one arm raised, the other out sideways.
There was little atmosphere in the room, although the artists were amiable with each other and clearly held Doris in high regard. I warmed to him too in an otherwise chilly space, but cannot say the same for City Academy. I’d made the mistake of agreeing this booking before knowing the hourly rate, and was shocked to find it the lowest I’d encountered anywhere in 5 years of modelling. I certainly wouldn’t return unless they pay a fair rate – I ask all life models to boycott them for the sake of the profession!
Update – 21 December 2017
Following this booking, I heard no more from City Academy until November 2017, at which time I was offered a corporate booking at a substantially improved rate. I accepted, and the whole process was handled by City Academy with impeccable professionalism from start to finish.
steve ritter 