“Are you the life drawing tutor?” I passed through the doorway at Fairkytes Art Centre and was immediately quizzed by a very portly gentleman of advancing years, who was loitering in the corridor. “No,” I said, “I’m the model.” “You run the group?” he tried once more. “No, I’m the model,” I repeated for the benefit of his reticent hearing aid. He held out a LeNu Life Drawing leaflet upon which was scrawled ‘Life Models Wanted’…
His contact details were on the back… written in the same handwriting.
London is awash with would-be life models. Those hoping to get started can try either auditioning through RAM (for a fee), or simply asking around local life drawing groups. The individuals who make it will be the ones who understand it is a profession of value based upon a contract of trust. Sending unsolicited nude pics, offering to work for free or behaving in other overtly dubious ways are all likely to ensure you won’t be booked.
My friend Natansky, who runs the group with her sister Estelle, took the gentleman’s details and said she would be in touch if an opportunity arose. Meanwhile, I would do my best to hold the fort for the next couple of hours. A large heater was provided, but the unpleasantness of its smell was greater than benefit of its warmth, so instead we put our faith in radiators and the body temperatures of our ten artists.
I began in a 5-minute crouch – a pose that I’ve used a lot lately – then cycled through 1, 2, 3 and 4-minute poses, before finishing the half with 10 and 20-minutes sitting on the floor. Votes were cast after the break and, rather than divide the remaining time in two, I ended with a single reclining pose of 45-minutes. Afterwards the enthusiasm of artists made me even more grateful to be one of Nat’s genuine ‘Life Models Wanted’.
I hesitated before entering. The Conservatoire in Blackheath is a prestigious centre for music and art, yet the grand building façade that rose before me seemed more for the former than the latter. One is always cautious of approaching unfamiliar premises and announcing, “I’m your life model“, only to find it’s the wrong address. Tentatively I crossed the threshold, made halting enquiries, and was greeted warmly.
I was escorted along a short corridor, through a café area, and into what their website describes as ‘one of the last remaining purpose built Victorian Life Drawing studios in the country‘. They say, ‘it is incredible to work in‘, and they do not exaggerate one bit. Certainly it is the finest life room I’ve ever modelled in. I would love to pose in it during daylight hours, but for now I was here for the first of three autumnal evenings.
In tutor Victoria Rance, I found infectious enthusiasm for thoughtful, pleasing, natural poses. In this two-and-a-half hour session, she asked if I could start with two poses of 5-minutes and one of 10-minutes, then hold a single long pose to the end. Inspirations were varied; for 10-minutes I would recreate an ancient bronze sculpture, whilst for the long pose I would mimic a drunk she’d seen crumple from sitting to lying face down.
I started with a dynamic standing posture and followed it by crouching low. My bronze was altered to make it more naturalistic, and the drunk pose was flipped as the group preferred to see me twisted onto my back. That made it a tad more uncomfortable but I got a couple of breaks for a stretch. Overall I loved the space, thoroughly appreciated Victoria’s approach, and will look forward to working for this group again.
Nine days after my short pose session at Anerley and Penge Life Drawing, I was back working for group organiser, Tatiana Moressoni, at her venue in Camberwell. The sequence of pose lengths at The Cambria would be identical to those at Bridge House so in theory I could recycle the same set of poses. In practice, however, that’s not what happened – for three very good reasons..
REASON 1: life modelling is about the moment. How comfortable is this space? What vibe am I getting from the group? What is my body telling me? What is my mood? The infinite permutation of factors means that, like snowflakes, no two sessions are alike. I may attempt to recreate individual poses, but across the evening there is certain to be variety and originality.
REASON 2: quite simply, I forget. The opportunity for spontaneity and creativity is part of what makes life modelling fun. How dull it would be to limit myself to just a dozen or so well-rehearsed postures. Tatiana would tell me a pose must be 2-minutes, 5, 10, or 15-minutes long, and within that constraint I had licence to be as inventive as I wished so, of course… I listen to my body and invent.
REASON 3: specific to The Cambria is its famous bright red couch. I didn’t make use of it for every pose but, certainly within the latter half, I incorporated it into all my work. Many models have been drawn on it, so it introduces the new challenge of how to find a posture that might not previously have been tried. Impossible to know if I succeeded but this is a warm, friendly group and I was happy to have done my best for them.
Fourteen poses in two hours. Upon commencing a session it’s common for me not to know the number of poses, or of what length, I’ll be asked to present. On this evening in Hoxton, I knew my first pose would be 10-minutes and those immediately following were likely to be shorter but after that anything could be possible. I stepped out of my robe to stand naked and slender, one foot tilted upon the other, with arms angled high and hands wrapped behind my head.
I occupied a small, square space at the centre of a well-lit room with a lone ferocious heater for company. Empty chairs around me gradually filled up during that first pose until eventually I was being drawn by 20 to 25 artists seated round the four walls. My opening pose was followed by dynamic standing and kneeling poses of 3-minutes, 2, 2, and 1-minute. As always, I alternated my direction to ensure variety was available to everyone on all sides.
The first half closed on 5-minutes, 10, 10, and 15-minutes. I’d been offered the use of pillows and a small step as posing aids throughout, but I waited until the first pose of the second half to sit upon the step for 10-minutes. About halfway through, I asked if the heater could be turned as I was being delicately roasted in its firing line. 2-minute and 1-minute poses followed, after which I finished up with 20-minutes in a crouching squat, and 22-minutes reclining.
I rarely plan more than one specific pose ahead, yet usually have an idea of how I will spread standing, kneeling, sitting and reclining throughout the session. The danger is that I get wedded to the idea of a particular pose, and then stick with it even when the pose length called for is much longer than I had anticipated. By the end of 20-minutes squatting I had firey tendons, numb calves and purple fingertips. On balance, however, it was another comfortable session for an appreciative London Life Drawing group.
Sometimes bookings line up perfectly. When Catherine Hall asked Esther and me if we would model together at The Star by Hackney Downs on 4 October, we knew we would both be free. Indeed, come the evening only London transport held us back; the Overground was delayed indefinitely, National Rail dawdled horribly, and even our tube train terminated prematurely.
From intending to arrive 20 minutes early we were ultimately about three minutes late. This was doubly upsetting as it was the first time I’d ever been late for a booking. We got underway as soon as the artists were ready for us, presenting a set of poses that alternated between intimate and dynamic. With commendable courage, co-organisers Catherine and Carla Nizzola did not shy away from requesting quickfire work.
We began with 10-minutes and 5-minutes, forming connections whilst sitting upon two chairs. Then came the fast stuff: three 2-minute poses, and three 1-minute poses. We intertwined mercilessly yet this group of talented artists represented us well. Poses of 5-minutes and 15-minutes took us to an interval, then a single half-hour reclining pose ended the session. We overran by five minutes to compensate for our late arrival.
Esther and I knew this evening would be free in our diaries as we’d deliberately kept it clear. It was our one-year anniversary – to be marked with a modest celebration – and what better way than by sharing closeness in the work that had brought us together in the first place? Our duo poses are becoming ever more confident and comfortable, as indeed are we. A nice meal at La Lira in Dalston ended a quirkily special day.
Life modelling is good for you! At least that’s the conclusion I reached after this 2-hour session at the end of a day in which I had been sorely afflicted by the common cold. It seemed like I couldn’t last two minutes without blowing my nose that afternoon. Upon arriving at Bridge House in Penge, I immediately self-medicated with a large red wine then checked-in for my evening’s work at Anerley and Penge Life Drawing.
I exchanged warm, contactless greetings with group organiser, Tatiana and chatted at what I considered to be a safe distance for her. Meanwhile the room was filling up with more artists than I’d ever seen here before – including a high proportion of newcomers. They would not want their first experience of life art to be with a sickly lethargic model. Luckily, this was a short pose session so a degree of dynamism was assured.
Short poses, it seems, are the perfect cold cure. There’s no time to be self-indulgently snotty when every moment calls for energetic stillness and focus. My only concession to symptoms was a frequent tilting-back of the head. Three poses of 2-minutes, four of 5-minutes and three of 10-minutes filled the first half, with three of 15-minutes to finish. Rather than socialise afterwards, I left with my germs… but I felt very much better.
Describing itself online as “London Fields’ neighbourhood hangout bar and restaurant“, Wringer and Mangle has ample spaces. The broad expanse of its ground floor is for diners, whilst the concrete cavern below is ‘Mangle’, a live music venue and nightclub. Mangle is also the latest addition to Adrian Dutton’s portfolio of London life drawing venues. It would be the fifth in which I’d worked with him.
I opened with a 15-minute standing pose. The floor mat here is much spongier than at Adrian’s other venues, which makes it perfect for sitting and reclining at length but its push-back requires extra effort to balance upon when upright. Once accustomed to it, however, I proceeded nicely: 1-minute, 2-minutes, 3, 5, 10 and 20-minutes to a break, then 10, 3, 2, 1, 20 and 20-minutes to a finish.
It was a comfortable session with a pleasing postscript. When I modelled for Adrian’s long pose session at the beginning of the month, I had left my umbrella backstage in the Garrett Centre. Happily, Adrian looked for it when he next visited the venue and, lo, he found it and returned it here. Maybe my luck with umbrellas is turning. Certainly I count myself a lucky and honoured man to be booked for these groups.
steve ritter 