Evening life painting – session 2 of 3
Lots and lots of stretching, rolling and limbering up: I was back at Morley College to fill a 3-hour session with the long pose I started last week. During that evening I held it for just 50-minutes, yet had neck and back pain for two days afterwards. This time I took greater care over preparation. There were no warm-up poses, so at 6pm I put my feet in the exact same position as before, set my arms, legs and gaze… and began.
The first part of the evening lasted until 7:10pm. I took rest breaks for a minute or two after 20, 40, 55 minutes – each time delicately easing down my raised elbow from its locked position then sitting at the back of the studio, trying to shake suppleness into my sore limbs. Outside we could hear the constant sirens of emergency services. At our interval, I read that a World War II bomb had been dredged from the river nearby.
We resumed at 7:35pm and continued till 8 o’clock before I took my next break. I felt fine – all things considered – up to this point, but upon returning to pose I discovered my arms were no longer happy. We carried on until ten to nine with two more breaks, but I can’t pretend not to have been relieved when it was over. Still, it’s a lovely group with a nice atmosphere, and my preparations did indeed pay off – fewer aches.
Next week is the final week of my three consecutive bookings. It’s likely there will be some alternative warm-up poses, probably in an Egon Schiele style, so still angular rather than soft, but variety helps. I enjoy listening as tutor Gillian Melling gives her advice to the artists – “you need to make the nose bigger and slightly longer” – and I appreciated everyone’s applause at the end of this session; I’m liking it here.
Tense moments with SketchPad Drawing before posing began! Esther and I waited upstairs at The Prince Regent pub in Herne Hill, inwardly assessing artist numbers as they arrived. A modest turnout meant we could cuddle up in duo poses all evening, whereas a full turnout meant solo work in different rooms. Artist after artist after artist streamed in through the doors. It did not look promising for us…
Of course, for Lisa – group organiser – it was marvellous. This was the first evening of her new term, so a strong opening presence on a cold January night could only augur well for the future. With regret, however, she had no choice but to separate us. Esther stayed in the main room whilst I relocated to the adjoining blue room. We started with two 15-minute poses, then quickened to work of 2, 2, 1, 5, 3 and 2-minutes.
During the interval that followed, we checked what the artists had made of us. In some of Esther’s poses she was nude; in others she sported a selection of the extraordinary costumes and accessories she’d recently acquired. By contrast, I remained resolutely naked throughout. For the second half, we swapped rooms and settled into 45-minute poses that would take us to a finish. Lisa had me curl in angles on a sofa. Splendid.
Setting aside my disappointment at not posing with Esther, I would have considered it a great session had I not been so bloody freezing! As this was the first class of 2017, I suspect the radiators hadn’t been on since Christmas. My lone puttering heater kept cutting out during the final pose and I was shivering for the last quarter of an hour. But I love this group… and good art will remain long after the chill has left my bones.
Evening life painting – session 1 of 3
I sat in the cafeteria at Morley College, killing time. Having already had train trouble that morning, and with severe weather forecast, I’d travelled up early. A pool of water collected beside me beneath the tip of my umbrella. At half-five I glanced through the window, into the street-lit blackness, and saw the afternoon’s downpour had turned to a flurry of snow. What an evening to have my first life model booking of the year.
This was to be the first of three successive Thursdays for me here, working with tutor Gillian Melling. Each 3-hour session would be centred on one single repeated long pose, but to warm-up our artists – eight of the expected eleven turned up – we began with four 15-minute poses. Despite two dodgy heaters and unreliable radiators, there was enough warmth coming from two other heaters to make sure I was never cold on this wintery night.
And so to the main pose I would be sustaining over three weeks. I’d been forewarned by Gillian that she was hoping for something ‘angular’. When I arrived, she tentatively asked if I would be willing to stand – of course I would. At first I found an upright pose with arms close upon my torso, but this was considered ‘formal’. “Would you like me to make it more open?” I asked. Yes. So I widened the stance, bent one knee, raised one crooked arm to my neck and angled the other from my stomach.
Not the most comfortable position I’ve ever taken, but it met requirements. I only had to endure it for 50-minutes at the end of this session, with short stretch-breaks at the 20 and 40-minute marks. The next two weeks will be more challenging as I expect I’ll have to hold it for anything up to two-and-a-half hours, with breaks. Still, it’s a friendly group, considerately run, and I know I shall enjoy watching the artworks develop.
My first London Naked Bike Ride was in 2009, my second came in 2011, and 2012 was my third. Like my blogs for those first two rides, I’ve written this fond recollection in early 2017. When 800 would-be nude cyclists gathered at 3:30pm on 10 June 2012, it was by Wellington Arch – traditionally our finish. We made an impressive spectacle and could make a clean start, but were again easy pickings for voyeur photographers.

Anticipation at Wellington Arch

The procession down Piccadilly

Around Shaftesbury Memorial Fountain at the Circus

In the pink at Trafalgar Square

At the National Gallery – it’s a Naked Planet
It was a nice sunny day and a joy to be on the road as we made steady, if somewhat staccato progress along Piccadilly, then down to Trafalgar Square. I’d undertaken my first life model booking only a month before and whereas on earlier rides I’d hidden my face, this time I swapped my scarf for a loud whistle; I was nearly out as a public nude! We went on: Whitehall, Westminster Bridge and south to Waterloo Bridge.

Emerging from Parliament Street

A glance back from Westminster Bridge

On Westminster Bridge, sans scarf

Pedal power on Concert Hall Approach
Our staccato opening had become increasingly stop-start, with an emphasis on stop. Later I learned that organisers were deliberately halting us at frequent intervals all the way round so we would stay together as a group rather than become fragmented like last year. It meant we had more time to enjoy the sunshine but also made the overall ride rather frustrating as we could never build momentum.

Law abiding citizens outside the Royal Court of Justice

Another pause, on the way to Ludgate Hill

Natansky… before we knew each other

A poser strikes, outside the cathedral
As in 2011, we went as far east as St. Paul’s Cathedral before turning and taking our time to reach Lincoln’s Inn Fields for an even longer stop. From there we meandered through the back roads around Covent Garden and beyond, to Trafalgar Square. Still we were stop-start, stop-start but we usually encounter good-humoured crowds here so it wasn’t so bad. Certainly we brightened the afternoon of one hen party.

Shop window selfie on High Holborn

Hen party in Great Queen Street – they couldn’t be happier

A familiar figure amid the throng
South around Trafalgar Square, through Admiralty Arch, and on to The Mall; I always take particular pleasure in coasting along The Mall with complete naked freedom yet even here we stuttered. It was frustrating but I don’t blame the organisers – they had to make a call, and on this occasion it wasn’t quite right. But they are all volunteers, doing it to protest car culture and celebrate body freedom. I, for one, am grateful.
And so we completed our circuit at Wellington Arch. It was past 7pm when we made it back, after three and a half hours on the go; a lot longer than 2011. This year’s ride also had one more starting point than last year, as a feeder ride comprising 12 bikes and a scooter set out from West Norwood. There would be multiple start points in all the rides that followed – and I haven’t missed a year: 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016.
I hope that all the while I’m able to pedal, I will continue to be part of the magnificent part-protest, part-celebration that is the phenomenal… London Naked Bike Ride.
This is part two of my look back at the first three London Naked Bike Rides in which I took part. Having made my debut in 2009, I elected to miss the 2010 ride in favour of watching World Cup football on TV – such were my misplaced priorities in those days. On 11 June 2011 around 4pm, however, I was leaving Hyde Park with a thousand other cyclists… bare except for my camouflage hat and the scarf wrapped around my face.

Ready to leave Hyde Park – many still in underwear to thwart photographers

Underway, with me re-wrapped in my scarf – still not ready to go public

Tigers in the sunshine on Piccadilly

With Earl Haig on Whitehall – like the 2009 photo, but sunnier
Having broken free of the ubiquitous voyeurs with cameras, we made steady progress along Piccadilly – one of my favourite parts of the ride – then via Trafalgar Square and Parliament Street to Westminster Bridge where tourists merrily photographed us. We then looped south of the river to Waterloo Bridge. This being a less crowded crossing, many of us got off our bikes there to have our own souvenir photos taken.

South of the river, on Westminster Bridge Road

Exotic tandem riders on Concert Hall Approach

Have your photo taken on Waterloo Bridge..?

And, of course, the ever-present lady with the red bob
Back on the north side of the river, we rounded Aldwych to continue along The Strand and further down Fleet Street to St Paul’s. It was exciting as we had not gone this far in 2009. A little beyond the cathedral’s south side we looped up and back to start our return via Cheapside. We’d enjoyed pleasant broken sunshine thus far, but now cloud cover began to thicken slightly, although conditions remained cool and comfortable.

North of the river, in Fleet Street, taking photos of…

Starting one of my bike ride traditions – the shop window selfie

By Christchurch Greyfriars Church Garden on Cheapside
Our return journey towards Hyde Park continued along Holborn, High Holborn, around Lincoln’s Inn Fields – where we paused for a loo break – then through Covent Garden, to Trafalgar Square, beneath Admiralty Arch and down The Mall. I love the jaunt along The Mall; it joins Piccadilly and the two bridges as being my favourite parts of the ride. Past Buckingham Palace and up Constitution Hill, we finished under Wellington Arch.

Outside Rosewood London, on High Holborn

On the west side of Lincoln’s Inn Fields

Swinging around Trafalgar Square towards Admiralty Arch

The end is nigh – Wellington Arch
It had been superb fun; even better than the ride two-years before. As always on these chaotic occasions, it was impossible to get a sense of overall progress whilst we were out on the road, but it emerged afterwards that the ride had become fragmented. Most riders reached Wellington Arch by 6pm, with rain arriving 30 minutes later, but by then my hired bike was back with London Bicycle Tour Company. Job done. Happy.
It is early 2017 and I am a veteran of seven London Naked Bike Rides. I’ve stripped naked many times as a life model, art performer, street protester, photography model and charity fundraiser but on 13 June 2009, before any of those things, came my first London Naked Bike Ride. On this warm breezy Saturday I joined 1,200 other cyclists on a long leisurely loop around central London, from Hyde Park to Wellington Arch.

Maps data © 2009 Google – from Hyde Park to Wellington Arch
I remember, it was around 90 minutes before the 3:30pm start that I wheeled my bike past Wellington Arch, into Hyde Park. I’d expected to find the formative gatherings of soon-to-be-naked cyclists but, no, not a sign, so I sat down on the grass and waited. Duly a few people arrived with bikes; at 2:30pm, some began undressing; by 3pm I’d done likewise; come half-past three we were lined up, naked, ready to hit the streets.

Arriving at Hyde Park – these people don’t look like naked cyclists

Moving to the start – that red bob would become a familiar sight at future rides

Lining up in Hyde Park, ready to go
I had no idea whether I was towards the front or back of the group, who was doing the organising, or what would be the signal to start. While we waited, voyeurs surrounded us and feasted greedily with their cameras. This was a time before I’d stopped caring about being photographed naked, so I wore a camouflage hat with a scarf tied around my face. How times change! With a tingling thrill we started along Piccadilly.

And we’re off – leaving Hyde Park on my first naked bike ride

Briefly northbound on Park Lane before turning right onto Achilles Way

Leaving Piccadilly Circus via Coventry Street and Haymarket

Passing Earl Haig’s memorial on Whitehall

Naked bike riders on Whitehall
In sensuous spring sunshine, our surreal spectacle crossed Westminster Bridge for a short sojourn south of the river. This was where my day had started, as I hired my two wheel transport, plus a pannier for clothes, from the London Bicycle Tour Company at Gabriel’s Wharf on the south bank. The ride never made it that far east, however, as we returned to the north side via the very next crossing – Waterloo Bridge.

South of the river on York Road, waving to crowds overhead

Unicyclists on the slip road up to Waterloo Bridge
I was having a wonderful time. All around me were hundreds of people either wholly or partially naked; some with bits of costume, others in body paint, some playing music, others blowing whistles. It felt like utter freedom – except I’d chosen to cower under a disguise. How I wish I could have my time again and be fearless from the start. North of the river we continued on The Strand, Chancery Lane and Holborn to Oxford Circus.

Starting the arc around Aldwych

Outside The Law Society on Chancery Lane

In Maddox Street, passing through Mayfair

Yes, that really is me on Grosvenor Street
We completed our circuit via Grosvenor Street, Upper Grosvenor Street then back to Hyde Park, where we veered south along Park Lane and finished triumphantly below Wellington Arch. More cameras awaited our return; organisers and police alike were keen for us to get dressed quickly, and the seething scrum of damp-palmed voyeurs gave many of us greater inclination to do so. Others, of course, revelled in it.

“Oil spoils” on Upper Grosvenor Street – protesting against oil dependency

Wellington Arch – our final destination
Such glorious, hedonistic madness. I knew it couldn’t end here, that this would not be the last time I took part, but how little I sensed when departing Hyde Park a few hours earlier, that I was embarking on a profound personal journey destined to transform my life in unimaginable ways. A group photo shoot the next day at Prested Hall became the very first nude art project in which I participated. The rest – this blog – is history.

























































