The first fortnight in March was a notably busy time for Spirited Bodies. Within the space of two weeks, Esther – Artistic Director of Spirited Bodies – held a women’s workshop, an older women’s workshop, a mixed gender event, and a women’s event with theatrical elements. All featured multi-models – some first-timers, others more experienced – and sought to help individuals find empowerment through art.
The events for women, including those who identify as women, were naturally out of bounds for me, but I was given the opportunity to model within the mixed event. This formed part of the Telegraph Hill Festival, and was presented in collaboration with the Telegraph Hill life drawing group, for whom I have modelled solo on several previous occasions.
A flurry of late drop-outs meant that, perhaps uniquely, we kicked off with no first-time models, just five of us with previous form: Esther herself, Cy, Ian, Leonora and me. On the plus side, despite several artists also dropping out, we still had about as many as could comfortably be accommodated within our space at the Telegraph Hill Centre. Frances – the regular life drawing group’s organiser – called our pose times.
To begin with, models were divided into two groups. Frances suggested an opening 5-minute pose that separated girls (Esther, Leo) from boys (Cy, Ian, me). I paired with Esther for the next 5-minutes, after which Cy joined her in two 10-minute duo poses, initially standing beneath his umbrella, and later sitting on the floor. In each instance the other models arranged themselves as a threesome.
15-minute poses came next. Ian sat next to a reclining Cy, the latter holding his fine snake-carved walking stick, whilst Leo, Esther and I worked the adjacent space. Leo sat on the floor, Esther balanced on her knees behind Leo, and I sat beside Esther with my arms around her waist and my head nestling on her ribs. Respect is due for Esther’s pose; it might look simple, but it’s especially tough on knees and thighs.
The final pose before our interval was to last 10-minutes. Ian, Leo and Cy stood with arms around each other’s waists or shoulders, side-by-side like the Three Graces of Telegraph Hill. Meanwhile, I sat on the floor, my back to the wall, with Esther cradled between my legs and our limbs intertwined. It was a cosy end to a very nice first half. After the break, all models would come together as a single group.
Before we resumed, a male artist asked if he could undress and join us in the poses. Frances readily agreed, whilst Esther let him know just how lucky he was – normally strict vetting rules apply but we were all well experienced and, in the absence of other debutants, his involvement enhanced the Spirited Bodies ethos. Part 2 started with a 20-minute pyramid pose: Esther and me standing; others seated around us.
To finish, we all lay down upon the floor to form an irregular river of naked humanity. In many respects it was a 15-minute reprise of the ‘water’ pose from Spirited Sound at Bargehouse last November. Esther lay across my chest and our fellow models also connected, making themselves comfortable. It was a beautiful experience to breathe in time with Esther and allow ourselves to float away in the moment.
All too soon we were done and back in our clothes. As is traditional, artworks were set out upon the floor for general admiration. I particularly adored the red pen work of our friend Lily. Her economic marks were laden with so much energy and personality. Indeed, several artists had produced very impressive renderings of multiple figures in such little time. Spirited Bodies still makes magic happen.
Life modelling is another country. At least, that’s how it seems when one has to produce one’s passport before disrobing. Modelling for academic institutions is notoriously more bureaucratic than work for groups in community halls or pubs, so ahead of my first booking at Morley College I had to observe the ritual of proving my identity, plus form-filling. Students at Morley can rest assured their seat of learning is meticulous in its recruitment.
Once the preliminary paperwork was dealt with, I could begin what turned out to be a thoroughly enjoyable session, for five students and their tutor, Gillian. During our three hours, the plan was to start with a series of 10-minute short poses, then take a break, and afterwards hold a single long pose that would be resumed the following week. For the short work, in the round, Gillian suggested that poses be around, on and under a central table.
To begin with, I stood side-on to the table and twisted my torso to arch across it, holding both edges. Next I stood at the opposite side, with one knee on the tabletop. Gillian had specifically requested one pose be beneath the table; when I obliged, she asked if it could be for 15-minutes. No problem. The final two 10-minute poses – one seated entirely upon the table, the other perched on one side – were also lengthened to 15-minutes midway through, with my consent.
For the long pose, we tried several variations of me sitting upright on the floor before settling upon one that was popular with everybody. As with the shorter poses, they wanted tension and angles, yet only so much is possible when a position must be held for a few hours rather than a few minutes. The final choice was remarkably close to the 2-hour pose I’d held at Lochaber Hall only the Saturday before. It had proved popular there too.
A matter of debate amongst life models is whether it’s ever appropriate for photos to be taken of models at work. On this occasion it seemed the most practical way to record a complex pose, such that I could be guided back into it a week later. Gillian gave me all manner of assurances and I gave her carte blanche. There will be shorter poses next week too; I very much look forward to returning… and handing in the last of my paperwork.
My début life modelling at Lochaber Hall, early Saturday from 9:30am to 12:30pm, was not confirmed until after 5pm the evening before. Late changes to arrangements led to me being welcomed as a replacement for Esther. As the community centre is just a half-hour’s walk from her home, it could hardly have been more convenient.
Lochaber Hall itself is spacious, and the freezing cold outside was able to permeate its walls without much difficulty. Mercifully, I was to be surrounded by three heaters, stood in close proximity, which did their job as well as could be hoped. As a clue to the ambient temperature, however, when dressing at the end of the session, I found that my watch had stopped within moments of me taking it from my wrist.
In the three-hours available, I started by providing seven 5-minute poses, followed by two 10-minute poses. Then, after a five minute break, I settled into a 2-hour pose (in practice it was from 10:35am to 12:30pm with a fifteen minute interval from 11:15am and a stretch late on). I knotted my legs for the long pose, which made the last hour tough but survivable.
The group is usually small, and on this occasion was even smaller; three artists plus the organiser, David, instead of an expected half-dozen. Nonetheless, after the initial shock of finding 6’4″ skeletal Steve would be modelling instead of 5’4″ slinky Esther, they appeared appreciative of my efforts. Upon being asked if I would consider future bookings, I was happy to reply ‘most certainly’.
Of course, a nude photo shoot was never part of the plan. After efforts to organise life modelling and performance events in Bucharest had amounted to nothing in January, Esther and I decided to use our few spare days at the end of February as a relaxing holiday. Somewhere nice, not too cold, beside the sea… so we went to Venice. The weather forecast was for rain throughout, but we would have a good time.
Part 1 – Venice
We’d taken rooms in an apartment on the island of Giudecca, just opposite Piazza San Marco in the Venetian Lagoon. Neither of us felt a particular compulsion to do all the things that tourists are meant to do in Venice but it is a city of romance and a city of art, and when art is a part of your being, then either you will find it or it will find you. Even our landlady turned out to be an artist and former life model.
Another extraordinary coincidence was the surprise discovery, on our third night, that my friend Glynis Ackermann was in town. She co-performed ‘Foil‘ at the opening of ‘Liquid Rooms / The Labyrinth‘ – billed as an “experimental video and performance arts festival” – at Palazzo Cà Zanardi the evening before. I sent a message to ask if she would be repeating her nude art performance the next day.
Come the morning of Sunday 28 February, Glynis hadn’t replied but we resolved to go along to Cà Zanardi anyway and see what we would find. One way or another we were certain to see plenty of interesting contemporary art. First, however, we would engage with some altogether more historic Venetian Gothic splendour, visiting the magnificent Doge’s Palace at Piazzo San Marco. Poses were tried and spied.
Part 2 – performance
We made it to Cà Zanardi around four o’clock in the afternoon. Although able to enter unimpeded, it was apparent that staff and artists were midway through preparing for a performance that evening. They advised us to come back at 5:30pm, so after admiring some of the art on the walls, we wandered around the back canals, the walkways and bridges to kill time with coffees at the Tortuga pub.
Back at Cà Zanardi we had no sooner arrived than the performance began. Not Glynis this time, but some mesmerising improvised dance by Marjolaine Uscotti and a male partner against the backdrop of her ‘Tangenze‘ video. With complimentary prosecco, we watched two performances. Just as a third was about to start, Glynis entered the room. She was as delighted to see us and we were to see her.
Sadly we learned that Glynis’s performance had been a one-off, but we had no regrets that such a lovely unexpected convergence had brought us together at this place. The three of us went for dinner together, chatting about life, art, and a world of possibilities. When Esther and I eventually waved Glynis goodbye and ran home through the rain, it was with feelings of joy and inspiration.
Part 3 – Lido
Next morning, we found the weather had much improved. Sure, it was overcast, chilly, with clouds foreboding rain, but our moods were bright. We had a late brunch, left our Giudecca apartment, and took a vaporetto across to San Marco from where we would get a connecting service to Lido di Venezia. Glynis was already on her way back to Switzerland, but Esther and I were going to the seaside.
We walked directly across the narrow width of the island to its long eastern shoreline buffeted by the Adriatic Sea. This was very much the Lido out of season, with all its grand old hotels shuttered, and with banks of sand piled high to protect sun terraces from the elements. With winds and lightly spitting rain at our backs, we strolled hand in hand along the near-deserted beach.
Apart from the occasional dog walker and a handful of surfers in the distance, we had the place to ourselves. So I thought: why not have a spontaneous nude outdoor photo shoot? We rolled the idea between us as we walked further. Yeah, let’s do it! First we glanced around for somewhere to leave our clothes. We let a jogger pass by. Nobody else was in view. I said, “I’m doing it.”
Part 4 – nakedness
On a concrete groyne down by the water’s edge, I started to undress. Heavy coat first, then shoes and socks. I handed Esther my little Canon Ixus camera and looked in all directions; still no-one else in view. Jeans and boxers came off next, and finally fleece and shirts. It was bitterly cold, with wind and rain raking my skin. We would be quick: first I stood at a distance, then came nearer, then turned as if gazing along the coast.
This was not fine art nor great photography, but it was raw, and it was real, and it was exhilarating. I speedily dressed and took the camera from Esther. It was now her turn, yet she had even more clothes than me to fight herself free from. Still no-one else was in view, and soon enough Esther was naked. She took the same positions as me and, being a true professional – even when on holiday – put everything into the poses.
It occurred to us subsequently that, in this weather, under cloudy skies, with nothing recognisably Venetian in view we might just as well have bagged these images back in England. But we didn’t; this was Venice and we were well pleased. Only when the last of Esther’s clothes were back on did a passer-by appear and stand watching us. They were too late… the job was done.
Part 5 – Giudecca
That evening on Giudecca we had pizzas and wine at our local restaurant. It was our last night in Venice. What was meant to be a straightforward vacation – a change of scenery away from our beloved London – had turned into something magic that whet our appetites for more artiness in a variety of forms. We wanted to perform, to model, to play, and to be at large in the world.
Next morning we wandered along the waterfront and partook of leisurely coffees before setting off to the airport. For the first time since our arrival, the sun was out in a sky of brilliant blue. Venice had never looked more beautiful, yet now it was time to go home. There are futures in which we return and immerse ourselves further in this unique city. Let’s see if we can make them happen.
Only upon arriving at The Star by Hackney Downs was I told that this evening’s life drawing was an anniversary event: it was one year since the group was founded. Well, actually it may have been one year and one week, but this was the first session since the true date that co-founders Catherine Hall and Carla Nizzola were both available to celebrate.
This was my sixth time modelling here, and the busiest I’d seen it. Usually there are around half-a-dozen people drawing, plus Catherine and Carla – all good artists – but tonight there were fully eleven present with the two organisers. To accommodate the extra people, I was meant to be posing in the round rather than facing a semi-circle, but in practice it was something in between; artists settled into a three-quarter circle.
I was to be modelling upon a high stool, a mid-height chair and a low stool, switching positions on one or more of these throughout. The pose sequence was: 5-minutes, 4, 3, 2-minutes, then three of 1-minute, three of 30-seconds, and two of 10-minutes that brought us to an interval. After our break for refreshments, we resumed with poses of 15-minutes and 10-minutes.
As is the tradition, works were set out upon the floor at the end for general admiration. Everyone seemed pleased with the evening’s efforts, and I joined most of the artists in staying afterwards for a swift drink. Having posed here just three weeks before, I didn’t expect to be invited back so soon, but it’s always enjoyable modelling for a group that appreciates a particular style of dynamic pose. I’m happy to oblige.
Life model bookings continue luring me to ever-more exotic corners of London. On this occasion it was Penge, deep in the capital’s south-eastern hinterlands, accessible via the London Overground branch – or should that be ‘root’? – to West Croydon. Not that I managed to explore any of Penge; I was to model at Bridge House, less a minute’s walk from Penge West station.
The territory may have been new but the group organiser was reassuringly familiar. I’d posed many times for Tatiana Moressoni at The Cambria and The Pigeonhole, both in Camberwell, but this was my first time at her new venue for Anerley and Penge Life Drawing. I was to pose within a lower-floor area of this multi-tiered, many-room’d pub, in the company of 10 artists.
As soon as Tatiana had partitioned us from the rest of civilisation by taping large white sheets across the entrance to our room, we were set to begin. The whole session was to be a sequence of short dynamic poses, which suited me down to the ground: three 2-minute poses, four 5-minute poses, three 10-minute poses up to a break, and finally three 15-minute poses to a finish.
It was another session where instead of applause at the end, I had the joy of individual artists approaching me to offer kind words of thanks. One said he wished only that the poses could have been longer. Well, alas, it is the nature of dynamic work that poses are more interesting, but equally more difficult to extend. Nonetheless, I would happily settle down longer for this group, plus Tatiana who created the fine works below.
Just four poses for me today: 15-minutes, 15-minutes and 30-minutes up to a break, then 35-minutes to the end of the session. As with my previous Sunday morning booking at Wanstead House, Esther came along to draw me – always very much appreciated – taking the total number of artists present to nine. It was a good crowd for this space.
On the mistaken assumption that the first pose would be five or ten minutes long, I’d resolved to attempt my own version of Esther’s trademark poses on one leg. It was a cheat, however, because the artists sit in a semi-circle and I could lean back onto a wall, whereas Esther can balance unsupported in the middle of a room. I was grateful to be propped up when I found it would be for quarter of an hour.
After that opening pose I decided to keep it simple. The next 15-minutes was spent in a semi-reclining position with my upper body raised and resting upon my left forearm. Our group organiser, Patrick, then suggested that I be seated upon a draped chair for the half-hour pose. I decided to ride side-saddle as it would vary the directions that I’d faced each time.
The final pose length is determined by the amount of time spent chatting and drinking tea during the interval. It’s a friendly group, so on this occasion only 35-minutes was left for art. I whiled it away in a signature pose, seated upright on the floor with one of my knees raised and supported in the crook of an elbow. Straightforward work for very nice people. I’ll be back here for a Wednesday evening next month.
steve ritter 