It takes more than sub-zero temperatures to deter the artists of Crouch Hill. More than 30 of them crammed into the function room at The Old Dairy pub for life drawing last Wednesday – certainly the most I had seen there. We started a few minutes late as it took so long to filter them all in.
The more the merrier, and indeed this is one of London’s merrier groups. There always seems to be a warmth about its vibe. Of greater importance, however, was the warmth emanating from two small heaters stationed next to the sheet I’d spread over pillows at the centre of the room.
We opened with the traditional 5-minutes, 4, 3, 2, 1-minute pose times, then followed with 10-minutes, 10 and 15-minutes to a short interval. I supped water and partook of chocolate biscuits while the artist hoards migrated to and from the bar in a hubbub of laughs and banter.
After the break I finished with 20-minutes reclining and 10-minutes standing. Same space, same heaters, but for some reason I failed to find the same warmth and thus shivered to a conclusion. It was no less an enjoyable evening for that. I’ll look forward to more work for The Moon and Nude next month at their other venues.
My first life modelling of 2016 saw me return to Bethnal Green for Adrian Dutton. It being a Thursday, this was particularly pleasing as Thursday are his cheese and wine evenings. Only four weeks had passed since I made my first appearance at just such an occasion; this rapid re-booking was to pair me with a new model making his début for Adrian.
Carlos had life modelled a couple of times before, but never for a group on the scale of this one at Eastbourne House. As we chatted before the start, more and more artists poured into the hall. Whilst not daunted, even I was a little surprised to see we would be posing for a crowd of 40 to 50 people. Carlos chuckled a little nervously but held his composure.
The two-model format presents possibilities for maximising the space with a model at each end, or to have both models in a duo pose at the centre of the room. With regard to the latter, I had said to Carlos we needn’t do anything he would not feel comfortable with, but he was admirably open-minded. We started in opposite corners, however, for the traditional 10-minute opener.
Four 2-minute poses followed, and we made the last of these our first duo pose. Two subsequent 5-minute poses were also as a duo: one with me seated on the floor and Carlos kneeling beside me, our hands upon or across one another; the other standing side by side facing opposite directions, arms around each other’s midriffs. 15-minute and 10-minute poses to us to the cheese and wine interlude.
After the break we recommenced with 10-minute, 2-minute, 1-minute and 30-second poses. The next 15-minutes saw our final duo pose, seated back-to-back on the floor. We finished as we’d begun, at opposite ends of the hall, closing the session with a 20-minute pose. Carlos had done well; he’d shown a professional attitude and been natural in his approach throughout.
Before heading home, I checked out the evening’s art that had been laid out around the floor. As on my previous Thursday visit, the most eye-catching works were large characterful studies of the upper body that seem to be one artist’s speciality. But it’s a pleasure to pose for the full range of abilities in such a large friendly group. Cheese and wine is icing on the cake.
Happy New Year! Esther and I stood among the crowds gathered at Hilly Fields Park in Brockley, clutching glasses of wine and watching wave after wave of fireworks surge in arcs from the distant London Eye. It was a simple start to what we hoped would be an extraordinary 12 months of modelling and performance. The next day we began our preparations…
Over the last three months of 2015 we had acquired a taste for life modelling together; we shared poses twice for Art Macabre, in Oxford and Birmingham, once for Mall Galleries, and twice for Esther’s own Spirited Bodies events – at Bargehouse and Tanner Street. To help keep this going through 2016, we decided to get a portfolio of duo-posing photos taken.
In truth we also wanted pictures simply to celebrate being together. Our photographer was the artist known as Lidia. She is best known for her work with film and video but, as a friend of Esther’s who’d worked with her on Girl in Suitcase at Dandifest 2015, she kindly offered to help. Esther identifies strongly with Lidia and was keen for me to see why. After large Riojas at The Eagle, we made our way to Lidia’s Hoxton flat.
Inside we were quite moved by all the trouble she had gone to on our behalf. An entire room had been given over to the shoot, with a huge black sheet draped along one wall and spilling across half the floor. A ladder stood in readiness for shots angled down to our reclining bodies. It was my first meeting with Lidia and I could not have been more warmed by her thoroughness, commitment, kindness and hospitality.
Before starting the shoot we chatted a while in the kitchen, with insights into Lidia’s current project concerning the horror of female genital mutilation (FGM). It would be wrong of me to explain too much about her works in progress, but the completed pieces I saw were so exquisite as to be both astonishing and ghastly. Her art, when finally realised, will be richly deserving of a large audience.
Returning to the process of our shoot, Esther and I stripped naked in Lidia’s bedroom then slippered back to where we would be photographed. We’d become accustomed to observing our bodies together and the shapes they make in close contact, but had practised nothing specific for this moment. Compact poses seemed to be the way to go, however, so we lowered ourselves to the floor.
I sat with one leg crooked flat and the other knee pointing upwards; Esther nestled in to my space, mirroring the upward knee and hooking her other leg back around me. I curled one hand around her breasts and placed the other arm across her belly. Before Lidia could take the first shot, I realised that by lowering my elbow just a little I could make the image social media-friendly. And so we began.
From this opening position we proceeded to lean and twist and fold and curve around each other. Limbs accommodated and supported, bodies pressed and caressed, but without ever crossing the divide into overtly sexual territory. Our objective was art, not obscenity, though it has become a matter of discussion whether the resulting images are inherently erotic, or even soft porn.
For each pose, Lidia captured us from two or three angles and was ultimately able to present us with a collection of 123 fine images. We were truly delighted. Back in our clothes, back in the kitchen, we settled down to salmon on toast with cheese, plus a few bottles of red wine. Lidia kept clicking away, trying to snatch close-up portraits of us looking natural. The results were mixed but the food was superb.
In time we were joined by Lidia’s partner, Ollie, and the laughs and banter continued to flow. We were sad eventually to leave but the fog of wine was intensifying – in me, anyway – and we had to depart back to south London, leaving our generous hosts in peace. The full set of photos were delivered to us just two days later, and the pick of them are now below.
Thank you, Lidia!
Esther and Steve
My year in life modelling – 2015 – ended as it had begun: posing in group tableaux for Art Macabre. The unique Death Drawing salon specialists have enjoyed their busiest year yet with an ever-increasing, diverse range of theatrical offerings. Correspondingly, I’ve been blessed with many opportunities to pose:
January – A New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball : Conway Hall, London
January – Mediæval Monsters : The Book Club, London
February – Eros and Death : The Freud Museum, London
April – Odette Toilette Aroma Ritual : Andaz Hotel, London
April – Commedia dell’arte, April Fools and Clowns : The Book Club, London
April – 50 Shades of Pathology : Barts Pathology Museum, London
May – The Dying Art : Round Chapel, Hackney, London
May – Library Fest : Woodley Library, Woodley, Berkshire
May – Watercolour Revolutionaries : Kingston, London
July – Shuffle Festival : Tower Hamlets, London
August – Drawing from the Unconscious : The Freud Museum, London
October – DeadFriday : Ashmolean Museum, Oxford
November – This Mortal Coil : Vivid Projects, Birmingham
My last booking of the year, on 16 December, was as Sherlock Bones. I didn’t get an immediate invite to take the event’s title role, however. This was partly because I look nothing like Benedict Cumberbatch, partly because I’d perhaps been over-used, but mostly because there are so many perfect alternative candidates within our modelling community. In the end, however, it seemed I was last man standing and got the nod.
First to be cast was Jon, who I’d posed with at my very first Art Macabre event; he would make a superb Watson. Joining him as The Abominable Bride would be the glorious Molly Beth White, who I’d worked with in April’s Commedia dell’arte. Art Macabre supremo director, Nikki, aka Raven Rouge, was narrator; her partner Linsay, the Baker’s Boy; and I completed the ensemble in vintage Basil Rathbone style.
The event was originally scheduled to take place at Barts Pathology Museum, and had even sold out in record time but, for reasons still unknown to me, the museum pulled the plug with just three days to go. A new location had to be found and all the tickets put back on sale. By some pre-Christmas miracle, Nikki pulled it off, and transported Sherlock Bones to Satan’s Circus at the Wenlock and Essex pub.
The nature of the venue had changed substantially, and so had our artists – I peeked out and could see no-one I recognised. Art Macabre regulars were all absent; in their place it seemed we had attracted an audience of Sherlock Holmes fans. To put them at their ease I started my poses wearing a dressing gown, slippers and a deerstalker hat, plus briar pipe in hand – alas, no meerschaum.
For the first pose I was seated alone on a comfortable chair beside a table, gazing at a book as if lost in its words before bedtime. In the second pose I was still sitting but now having nodded forward, asleep, with the nightmarish vision of The Bride standing behind me, her hands gripping my shoulders. For now, we were playing our own mini period costume drama.
The next scene was Linz’s cameo appearance, turning up in street urchin style to tell Sherlock that foul deeds were afoot. She froze in a moment of animated gesticulation whilst I stood motionless before her; impassive but attentive. After this it was time for Watson to make a smart entrance in jacket and pants. Meanwhile I was now wearing just a top hat and roughly fashioned cape. Costume was rapidly decreasing.
In the last pose before our break, Sherlock and Watson ventured outside to scrutinise the evidence with their magnifying glasses – naturally having taken off all their clothes before doing so. Victorian respectability was maintained as I kept my top hat on, and Watson had donned his bowler. We hadn’t really focused our lenses on anything, but we stood together in great earnest.
Our two poses after the interval saw The Abominable Bride take centre stage. For the first, she was seated as if upon a throne in the depths of an overgrown cemetery. For random embellishment, Sherlock and Watson sat like bookends at the corners of the stage. Originally from this point Nikki had imagined further narrative complexities, but in practice we were left with time for only one more pose.
The final tableau saw The Bride standing, supporting a tower of three skulls with one arm while the other was raised and slightly outstretched, leading Sherlock Bones by the hand to some unspecified doom – whilst Watson grabbed one of his legs to haul him back. It was a 25-minute pose, and quite taxing for Molly, so a couple of times I let go of her hand so she could shake some life back into it.
We were all done. The Sherlock Holmes fans were generous with their applause and eager in setting out their artworks on stage for our admiration. After-show drinks and laughs were shared before the time to depart inevitably came. After a bumper year of Art Macabre work, I’m expecting leaner times in 2016 as they search for fresh blood; whatever the future brings, I’ll look back on fun nights like this with great affection.
Life drawing at Hackney Downs Studios has moved! Since March 2014, I have been modelling for the group led by Catherine Hall at the A-side B-side Gallery, but now they’ve relocated a few paces across Amhurst Terrace to The Russet café.
It’s a bigger space that could comfortably accommodate many more artists, yet when I arrived and found Catherine sitting outside she seemed in some doubt as to whether there would be any artists present at all. Only a few days were left until Christmas, so it was understandable that people might be preoccupied elsewhere.
With a couple of minutes to go until our 7pm start we had one artist join us. This was all we needed to go ahead as intended. Not long into the first pose, our second artist arrived. Catherine would also be drawing, so it felt like a comfortable session – albeit perhaps not the most profitable from an organisation point of view.
Poses in the first half were 10-minutes, 5, 4, 3, 2-minutes, then three lots of 1-minute poses, three lots of 30-second poses, and finally a 20-minute pose up to the interval. There were just two poses after our break: 15-minutes and 23-minutes. Seated poses were favoured for the longer work – which suited me fine – whereas the shorter poses were a good winter warm-up.
I will always have an affection for the A-side B-side Gallery as I’ve modelled at some thoroughly enjoyable sessions there. This new space feels good though, and I’ll look forward to the chance of returning one day, hopefully in busier times.
| 11:39am | “Please bring spare fuses! Easily bust“ |
| 11:40am | “Will do. And screwdriver” |
| 12:14pm | “Have you left? We might also need a 13 amp fuse! I think I have one in the kitchen“ |
| 12:21pm | “Not left yet – in about 15 mins. Do you know where in the kitchen?” |
| 12:24pm | “Cupboard under the sink“ |
| 12:26pm | “Got it” |
| 12:26pm | “Are there 2 fuses?“ |
| 12:30pm | “I’ve found an adaptor plug with a 13 amp fuse in it – I’ll bring that along as backup” |
| 12:35pm | “If you can bring me a sandwich that’s amazing too!“ |
Part 1 – short fuses
Esther was messaging me midway through her Spirited Bodies women’s workshop at 47/49 Tanner Street near London’s Tower Bridge. Aside from the inconvenience of a few blown fuses, everything was working out superbly. She was in a good space with old friends and new enthusiasts. I felt both happy for her… and relieved.
Any tension that had preceded the successful Spirited Sound at Bargehouse event a few weeks earlier was as nothing compared to the turmoil immediately ahead of this one. Some of it concerned the planned activities – chiefly, whether models and artists would attend in sufficient numbers – and some came from other situations. Through it, however, Esther’s dedication had ensured everything was in place.
Part 2 – cometh the hour, cometh the woman
Power derives from resilience, strength from supportive friends. When fully immersed in running her women’s workshop, Esther was once more restored to her magnificent best. From 11am to 1pm, she led her group of models and artists, collaborating with close comrades on both sides of the drawing boards. When I arrived after half-past, I was moved to find her smiling and energised in the midst of organising the afternoon.
The session from 2pm to 5pm was to be mixed gender in a larger space. It would also see the return of Sarah Kent to provide a sound bath accompaniment. I was there to provide whatever extra support I could – which could be modelling, or maybe drawing, but at the outset it meant simply changing fuses. Meanwhile, fears of a poor turn-out were rapidly disappearing; come the start, there wasn’t a spare seat to be found.
Part 3 – lungs and kidneys
Our inspiration for this session, and the women’s workshop, was the zàng-fǔ organs of traditional Chinese medicine. Focus would be on the five yin organs, and the triple burner of the yang. Six models – two men, four women – were set to pose, including Esther herself. She introduced the practice with short dynamic poses centred on the lungs: 1-minute, 2-minutes, 3, 4, 5-minutes, expressing sadness through to joy.
My role became timekeeper, calling midway and at the end of each pose. Sarah used her own timer to ensure the resonant waves of each sound bath were synchronised to the pose lengths. After lungs came kidneys – fear and courage – to be represented by 25 minutes cowering on ground or standing strong. Esther stepped from the group and together we retreated to a quiet corner for comfort and sandwiches.
Part 4 – heart
The next piece was originally supposed to be half an hour of liver, but performers on a different floor of the building had asked if the sound bath could be suspended between 3pm and 3:30pm. Esther looked to her plans and found there was just time to fit in 15 minutes of heart, so those two organs were switched. After this section would come a half-hour hushed break for refreshments.
Heart would be a movement pose. Four of the models lined up in pairs behind Esther, who had returned naked to the group and would be spearheading its action. As Sarah drummed a rhythmic heartbeat, the five upstanding models slowly, slowly raised their arms high, then lowered them to their hearts. This was repeated over and over for the full quarter of an hour whilst artists captured their transitions.
>Part 5 – liver and spleen
The session was going nicely, with warm positivity felt throughout the space. After the break it was my turn to join in with the models, beginning with our rescheduled liver. In this 30-minute segment we were invited to express anger, and were given free reign to change pose whenever we felt like it rather than at specific timed intervals. I wondered if we might not hear artists expressing anger when a pose changed without warning.
Esther and I posed together; it was wonderful to reconnect with her in this simple way, doing what we both love. We made our poses as dynamic and expressive as possible, pulling faces and having fun. The next organ was to be spleen, in which models would spend 20-minutes either seated on the floor or standing, directing sympathy or blame towards the artists. I sat with my arms outstretched in an ambiguous gesture.
Part 6 – triple burner
The ‘triple burner‘ is not a physical organ – within traditional Chinese medicine, it is primarily energetic, the passage of heat and water through the body. In Esther’s nude interpretation, four models lay down feet-to-feet in two lines of two. Another four stood over them in pairs, connected palm-to-palm. To make our numbers up to eight, Sarah joined in and would be leading us through chants of ‘eee’ or ‘ooo’ sounds.
Sarah had hitherto been fully clothed, but when the moment came to begin our triple burner she lifted off her dress and stood beside Esther in naked solidarity. I touched palms with Esther, Sarah reached across to another female model, and together we started our intonations. Halfway through the 15-minutes Sarah dropped her hands to her heart and we all followed suit; it was a beautiful, unplanned moment of sharing.
Part 7 – road to repose
Our final pose was to be 15-minutes freestyle. Sarah returned to her gongs and bowls, another female model decided to try drawing, so the remaining three women and three men paired-up and settled down. Two of the couples were in genuine relationships; the others simply seized the moment. I leaned back into cushions, cradling Esther gently in my arms, and we lost ourselves as one in time and space.
A day that had begun with tension ended in peace and happiness; all had enjoyed the experience. Ultimately Esther felt the event had been even better than Spirited Bodies at Bargehouse. Artworks were laudable too, including some extraordinary wire models of individual poses. An hour after we had finished, a taxi returned us to Esther’s flat. It had been an intense 24 hours of emotion; now, at last, we could relax.
“Hi!” came a call from the middle of The Mall. I’d been waiting three or four minutes outside the Mall Galleries when, at the very moment I had straddled a lamp in the pavement to begin idly taking selfies, Esther swept beneath Admiralty Arch on her bicycle. She wheeled across to my side of the road and we shared a moment before entering the galleries together.
Esther is allowed to take her bike inside – she’s well respected round these parts.
Part 1 – hello Hesketh Hubbard
We were present as two of six models booked to pose for Hesketh Hubbard Art Society in what would be their final life drawing evening of the year. Within the Main Gallery there would be a clothed portrait model at one end; a nude model providing 15-minute poses at the other; with Esther and me composing half-hour nude poses together in the middle.
Beyond our sight in the adjoining Threadneedle Gallery, two more nude models would sit for the single ‘long’ pose. Sessions usually last two-hours in total but, it being Christmastime, there would be just an hour of art on this occasion with a buffet and wine to follow. Esther showed me around the public spaces, and the storage rooms for life drawing paraphernalia behind the scenes.
The difference in our prior experiences at Mall Galleries could not have been greater. This being my début, I entered with a mixture of enthusiastic excitement and a tinge of trepidation. Esther, by contrast, is a veteran here and was greeted with genuine affection. It was quite moving to see artist after artist welcome her with such warmth; the profession of life model is not so detached as sometimes it is portrayed.
Part 2 – pose and predicament
With time to spare before our 6pm start, we set about practising two poses – one standing, one sitting – that would offer respectable views to all in the circle around us. Some artists stepped forward to offer suggestions and make requests. For example, we’d intended to be wrapped around each other for the standing pose, but deferred to a request for slight separation so the full lines of our bodies would be exposed.
We made our space comfortable and began the first pose promptly at six. Esther stood on a bench while I was beside her on the floor. As I nestled close beneath her armpit we savoured this rare reversal in our physical relationship. Inevitably over the course of half an hour there was some infinitesimal swaying between us. I thought I detected some muttering from one observer but generally we made a favourable start.
Time calls came after 15 and 30 minutes. Upon the latter we changed position. Esther was seated upright with her legs tucked under her on one side while I curled my body around her, knees bent towards her back, and eyes meeting her gaze, with my head propped upon one hand. It was a pose we’d tested with ease before the start, yet one small misjudgement was to make it a veritable ordeal of prolonged discomfort for me.
My simple mistake concerned the arm that carried the burden of my up-tilted head. I’d inadvertently set it such that its elbow was overhanging the cushions upon which I lay, rather than being supported by them. Consequently, the combined weight of my arm, skull and supposed-brain was borne by my own biceps. Neck muscles stayed taut in an attempt to relieve the arm, and even my legs were tensed as a counterbalance.
For the first five minutes, Esther and I were beaming indulgently at each other. Then the physical stress began to assert itself…
As the minutes dragged and the pain increased, so my expression went from smiling to blank, to strained concentration, and finally an etched grimace. It was unpleasant viewing for Esther, whose own face reflected concern and empathetic distress. We whispered words of consolation to each other. When at last the hour was called, my trembling arm collapsed and I slumped backwards in relief.
Part 3 – mingle and munch
For a time afterwards we sat in a warm embrace whilst artists approached in turn to thank us for our efforts. It seemed the suffering was not in vain – our exertions were received with broad enthusiasm, and there was some keenness that we be booked again next year. When ready, we dressed and made our way to the buffet table for snacks and wine. We were indulged to slip ahead of the queue, and were grateful.
A little networking followed as we bantered with fellow models, artists and organisers. Esther circulated more widely with postcards that promoted her forthcoming Spirited Bodies event, while I sat in conversation or flitted back and forth, harvesting the buffet. People began drifting into the night and in time we followed, wheeling Esther’s bike to Charing Cross station in search of a southbound train. Job done.
From an evening of pleasure and pain, pleasure had won through.
steve ritter 