“Our last session for 2016 is on Saturday 10th December and I have a special treat in store for you (and I don’t just mean mince pies!)” This enigmatic teaser was posted on the Facebook event page of Croydon Life Drawing Group by its organiser, Francis Wardale. His treat? For the first time in their nigh thirty-year history, the group was to face the challenge of two nudes in duo poses. Specifically, me and Esther.
It could also be a challenge for models. At 3-hours, this would be the longest session in which Esther and I had worked together. An hour of short poses was to be followed by a single pose of 90-minutes. Our ability to sustain balance and intimate closeness without aches and numbness would be tested. The opening three poses of 5-minutes were a good start as first we stood entwined and then varied our relative heights.
Short work was easy: 4-minutes, 3, 2, 1-minute. Our favourite was a domestic scene in which I sprawled flat and Esther stood with one foot on my chest, arms triumphant. Two relaxing poses of 15-minutes took us to a break for tea, coffee, mini stollens and, of course, mince pies. Soon it was time to prepare for our long pose. Happily, we had the option to be seated on a couch with our backs to a wall – so much better for us.
We nestled into a position we’d tried before and knew could be held in relative comfort for long periods. I sat far back on the couch, allowing Esther to slide between my legs and recline onto my chest whilst my arms wrapped around her body. We had a couple of stretch breaks, and occasionally Esther would lean forward imperceptibly so I could breathe a little deeper.
Artists rose to the challenge, whilst we remained pain-free and cosy throughout. Two electric heaters kept us warmer than was needed – even for mid-December. A couple of artists left early, either to start their festive shopping or perhaps we were a little too much for them, but those who stayed to the end seemed well satisfied with Francis’s special treat. Merry Christmas, Croydon – hope we see you again in the new year.
Evening life painting – session 4 of 4
It was the final week of term at The Conservatoire, Blackheath, and the last of my four weeks modelling for their life painting classes. On this warm December evening, an end-of-year pre-Christmas feel-good mood was all-pervasive: fairy lights entwined the wide-stretching tree outside; light lilting jazz lured smart young people to a party at adjacent Blackheath Halls; comings and goings at The Conservatoire itself were breezy and jolly. Every step seemed to have a spring in it.
Upon entering the art room I found tutor David Webb in characteristic good humour, midway through the familiar chore of arranging easels and tables. Artists were close behind me: in week one we’d had eight; in week two it was seven; in week three we dropped to six; now we were back at seven. Such was the extraordinary ambient warmth that I could almost have done without the two heaters provided. I took off my robe and adopted the now-familiar stark standing pose.
Despite the warmth, this was probably my least comfortable session for strains and numbness. I thought less of it, though, as by now the symptoms were familiar, and I took comfort from knowing the end was near. Maybe a few artists felt that way about their own struggles but I believe they could all take positives from their effort with the materials. These sessions were as much for learning as they were for pleasure – I’m pleased to have experienced both whilst in pose.
I was offered this booking the night before by text message from Aless of The Moon and Nude. She would be facilitating an informal life drawing group at the offices of a communications company near Paddington, for their employees, when they finished work at half-past five. Having established that I could get there on time after finishing my own day job, I checked in at reception with five minutes to spare. Aless arrived a couple of minutes behind me.
We were led to a pavement-level room with one long wall of fifty-fifty clear and frosted glass facing onto a busy main road. It took Aless and her four artists about a quarter of the session just to fix paper over these windows, but enough glass remained clear to permit some splendid views from outside. I’m long past caring about such matters, however. Once everyone had settled I began with poses of 6-minutes, 3-minutes and 1-minute.
I stood twisting to my left, then stood holding the ceiling, then knelt. Next I sat down for 10-minutes, leaned back on a buttock-level shelf for 15-minutes, and sat again for 20-minutes more. All the while, artists were sketching and dipping into a large tub of chocolates. At the break, I too dipped liberally before closing the session with hands upon my head in a final 20-minute standing pose. It was a good gig and nice to have my first workplace booking of 2016 with just days of the year remaining.
Evening life painting – session 3 of 4
Two weeks ago at The Conservatoire it had been a level playing field for everyone. Eight artists stood before blank canvases, scrutinising the upright pose I was to hold throughout four two-and-a-half-hour sessions, and contemplating where to make their first tentative marks. Once underway, a few devoted most of the week to drawing and redrawing my figure, whilst others were quickly mixing oil paints, capturing the basic composition and blocking in colour.
Seven artists returned for week two and made fine progress; some were sufficiently satisfied to declare their works finished. When our third session was ready to begin, with easels, canvases, materials, and me all restored to consistent positions, it was decision time for the six returning artists. Four continued their original works – albeit one focused exclusively on the background detail – while two started new canvases, one from a new vantage point in the room.
It ought to be getting tedious for me by now, but I’m enjoying the group dynamic; the characters, their struggles, guidance from tutor David Webb, the growing self-belief. On the downside, plummeting outdoor temperatures combined with a malfunctioning partition between studios meant that even an extra heater couldn’t prevent this being the chilliest session so far. In a heart-warming moment at the end, however, an artist kindly gave me his finished canvas. Now, where to hang my beautiful bare behind?
“On a bus outside Wanstead Park station. I should be with you between twenty-past and half-past seven.“
I’d felt bad in October when London transport delays made me three minutes late for a booking. It was the first time I’d ever been late. Then, as now, I left with time enough to be more than twenty minutes early, but it was not to be. Whilst I was still caught in traffic, Patrick himself posed clothed for portraits. Upon arrival I hastily undressed in a side room and emerged ready to take over.
I offered to make up time by working during the tea break or staying late, but Patrick remained phlegmatic – “it happens” – and instead he asked for poses of 10-minutes, 10-minutes and 20-minutes to complete the first half. I made sure they were suitably strong. After a surprisingly long interval, I concluded with a 30-minute reclining pose, which included a shallow inversion and a numb left hand.
None of the nine or ten artists voiced any complaints about my tardiness – not within my earshot, anyway – and a kindly few were enthusiastic with praise for the poses. I asked not to take a fee for the time I hadn’t worked but Patrick wouldn’t hear of it, so instead I donated it to The Samaritans – as the cause of my delay was a ‘customer incident’ at Holland Park, it seemed possibly a pertinent gesture. Honour satisfied.
“We’ll start with 5, 10 and 15-minute poses,” said David. Evidently he would be calling the pose lengths for this booking. Most of the groups for which I model are led by one person, but at Toynbee Art Club there’s a more transparent sharing of responsibilities; be they for acting as treasurer, making the tea, or hiring life models. There were eight or nine artists surrounding me during this Sunday session and it seemed at least half had some kind of role in its organisation.
I started in a standing twist, progressed to a tendon-tensing crouch, and followed with a reprise of the seated pose I had held for 2-hours a couple of days previously at Mall Galleries. A much simpler standing pose filled the 25-minutes that remained until our tea interval. Afterwards, a 60-minute twisting recline completed my afternoon’s work. I had made a couple of poses slightly more uncomfortable for myself than was entirely necessary, but the overall range was appreciated by these experienced artists.
The Dellow Centre itself is home to Providence Row, a charity dedicated to tackling homelessness. When not hosting weekly life drawing sessions, its art studio serves primarily to provide workshops for the homeless. Broad windows face other rooms in the complex, and sometimes I wonder the extent to which models can be seen; a long howling yell from outside during this session, however, reminded me that some residents have more troubling preoccupations. Donate to Providence Row.
In a darksome, red-hued back room of The Book Club basement bar in Shoreditch, the green Snazaroo was running low. Unsurprisingly, maybe, as it had been used to colour me all over from hairline to toenails. I was just applying the finishing touches of paint to my penis and scrotum when the poor barman walked by – it was a sight that he can never unsee…
This was Art Macabre: The Mighty Boosh Special. The rest of my green layer had been sponged on by Nikki – Art Macabre supreme director. I’d been quick in offering to take over before the matter became delicate. Here’s a top tip for life models: if you work with body paint, don’t make a laughing stock of yourself by expecting – or even asking! – someone else to paint your genitals. It’s a tad indecorous.
© Art Macabre
Matilda
Time for work. First to pose would be Nikki’s long-time friend Lorraine (‘of Terror’). She would be Matilda – shell-covered wife of seashell artist Ramsay in The Mighty Boosh episode: ‘The Legend of Old Gregg’. She was a blink-and-you-miss-her character, but then this was a series with very few female characters at all. Judging by our full-house of artists, however, it surely had a predominantly female following.
© Art Macabre
Old Gregg
After Matilda’s two 5-minute poses it was my turn to be Old Gregg himself. In addition to green skin, I had dark eyes, dark moustache, red lips, red tutu, pearl nipples and a green plastic seaweed wig. With a bottle of Bailey’s and a shoe from which to drink it, I posed for 10-minutes, 20-minutes and – by popular demand – an extra 5-minutes. In between, Nikki wove the storyline, and played Boosh extracts while artists sketched.
The Crack Fox
Next on stage was Raquel as The Crack Fox – furry-faced, faux fur stole and syringes for fingers, but otherwise fully nude. Whilst this exotic facsimile of the Julian Barratt original entranced our artists for 20-minutes, Nikki set about adjusting my greenery in the back room. Off came the seaweed, off came the tutu, and off came the gratuitous pearl nipples as I was transformed into another Noel Fielding creation.
The Hitcher
The combined body warmth of more than forty busy artists could not quite permeate to where I waited, so I hugged a coat tightly around my shoulders as Raquel’s pose came to an end. At the appointed moment I emerged once more, resplendent in red wig, top hat, a white sticky-tape triple cross on my chest and a giant Polo-mint over one eye. I was… The Hitcher! My friend Louise loaned a cane to perfect the look.
© Art Macabre
Nikki asked me to pose in a proper bandy-legged Cockney style to start, so I obliged for 5-minutes. Next I perched on a stool for 15-minutes, a tad more relaxed until Nikki burst forth as the evil screeching Nanatoo – a very noisy granny – to pose with me for another 15-minutes. But the poor old dear only lasted halfway till her back packed up and she needed a stool of her own. A final 5-minutes standing, and I was done.
© Art Macabre
Artworks
It had been a fun session. Nikki garnered applause for her models, and I reciprocated. Then came the chance to admire the artworks and attempt to photograph them in the dingy mottled light of the bar. After the artists left, we sifted through a pile of drawings that remained abandoned. We were rather taken aback when the one below surfaced. Ahh, maybe it was by the barman who walked in on my preparations…
This event was staged to coincide with The Boosh Club – an exhibition of previously unseen photography from designer, photographer and cast member Dave Brown aka Bollo, with selected works by: Noel Fielding, Ivana Zorn, Andy Hollingworth, Mr Bingo, and Jake. Catch it for free from 20 October 2016 until 29 January 2017. Thank you for joining us, Boosh fans!
steve ritter 