It’s always a shade disconcerting when, quarter of an hour into a 25-minute reclining pose, one cannot be fully certain whether one has just woken oneself with one’s own snoring, or whether some external sound had impressed its illusion upon a wandering mind, or whether perhaps the whole thing was merely an improbable dream.
Only very rarely have I lapsed into sleep whilst life modelling, but this may have been one such occasion, at The Beehive pub for Tottenham Art Classes. I’d left myself susceptible with just four hours’ sleep the night before after an evening that included, amongst other things, trying some life drawing of my own. Life drawing, life modelling, life catches up with us all in the end.
Nonetheless, aside from the one possible drowsy aberration, this was a good focused session for fourteen artists. We began with three dynamic 1-minute poses followed by 2-minute, 5, 10 and 15-minute poses. The last pose before a break was the 25-minute recliner. In the final session, I passed 10-minutes standing on one leg, and 30-minutes seated upon the floor.
After this evening I faced the prospect of two intense days travelling up and down the country for some extraordinary life modelling and much splendidness in between. The likelihood of sleep seemed more remote than ever, but it’s a glorious way to burn out. Even as I made my way towards Tottenham, I received two further bookings by email. These are the days…
Two large glasses of dark wine. Upon invitation, I conveyed them to the table of three artists who’d been drawing me earlier. We were in the main bar area of The Cambria pub. Having provided short poses upstairs the previous week, I’d returned for the long pose session and – I hoped – a nice little drink to round off a pleasant fortnight.
Within a minutes the second glass was held by Tatiana – organiser of Camberwell Life Drawing. She’d been packing away and, whilst it had been moot whether my earlier attempts to help had been more of a hindrance, we certainly reached a point where the most useful thing I could do was get the drinks in. We all clinked glasses and bantered.
The session had been comfortable, which is never taken for granted when the poses get longer. My only affliction had been one numb arm during the final pose. In truth, none of the poses had been tremendously long. We warmed up with three 2-minute poses, then went 15-minutes (seated frontways), 20-minutes (seated sideways) and 15-minutes (standing) up to an interval.
The final pose after the break lasted precisely 37 minutes – all the time that was left until our 9pm finish. As pose times increased, so had artist numbers. When the first 2-minute pose began, we had but one artist in attendance. Fairly quickly this rose to six, but it was nonetheless briefly a matter of concern for Tatiana. Artists seem to be evaporating across London.
Downstairs everybody could relax. For Tatiana it was another ‘job done’; the artists for their part had produced fine work and seemed rightly content; I was pleased simply to have my freedom of movement restored without a legacy of aches and pains. Together we enjoyed our cups. Aside from the satisfaction of creativity, life drawing can provide a grand night out. Have you still not tried it? You really should, you know.
“I’ve never tried it that way round before, in all the time I’ve been drawing.” Thus spake Catherine Hall who, with Carla Nizzola, co-organises Drawing the Star – Tuesday night life drawing at The Star by Hackney Downs. We were sitting with beer or wine in hands at one of the pub’s outside tables, preparatory to our 7:30pm start.
We would be tinkering with the fabric of time. The established order of pose lengths here begins 5-minutes, 3, 2-minutes, then three of 1-minute and three of 30-seconds. The plan this evening, however, was to reverse that order entirely and begin with the super-quick 30-second poses. How would the artists cope with being thrust in at this pace? We would discover.
At the appointed time, the three of us and six artists took our respective places in the pub’s small function room upstairs. Catherine put on her Kronos Quartet soundtrack, and I took off my clothes. So… 30 seconds. I got down on one knee, twisted my body round and reached both arms upward towards the ceiling. I reckoned I could hold that for 30 seconds.
Amusingly, what ensued instead was a 30-second debate about whether to start with 30-second poses after all, or if would be best to put the 1-minute poses first. The call for 1-minutes carried the day, and this became official with the announcement: “Right, this is a 1-minute pose.” Time is a fickle companion for life models.
What followed was a mixture of standing (dynamic or passive) and seated (on a high stool, a low chair, or the floor) poses. The session in its entirety only lasts for an hour and a half – including a break in the middle – instead of the more common two-hours, so no pose exceeded 15 minutes. The preference of the group was for shorter work.
Afterwards I dressed and, as is customary, all works were spread upon the floor for general admiration. I love it when groups do that, and I believe that artists generally find it a positive act of sharing too. We took photographs and then retired downstairs to resume at the outside refreshment tables. I’m in a good place right now, and this was a good evening in good company.
The night air outside was milder than I expected. On the platform at Loughborough Junction, I greedily devoured a large tray of chicken fried rice with sweet and sour sauce, bought from the Wang Fa takeaway just outside the station. I felt warm and satiated inside. My train arrived on time and my journey was smooth. It had been a good evening.
The occasion was a return visit to The Cambria for two hours’ worth of short poses. Artist numbers were down slightly on previous visits, with just nine here to draw, but the ambiance was engaging and relaxed. As always, it was a pleasure to work with Tatiana, organiser of Camberwell Life Drawing – one of London’s long-established model-run life drawing groups.
I began with three dynamic standing poses of 2-minutes each, followed by a further two of 5-minutes. For the next 5 minutes I dropped to a kneel, then tried a 10-minute inversion draped over the front of a sofa. This was immediately counter-posed with a forward-folding 10-minute seated pose. Finally, 15-minutes standing with elbows up took us to our interval.
After the break I settled down for 10 minutes squatting like a frog upon the sofa, then held 15 minutes in casual standing stance, and closed with 15 minutes sitting on the floor, my limbs intertwined. I hoped these would offer sufficient angular variety to keep the artists suitably challenged, and incorporate enough restful balance to maintain my comfort throughout.
It’s quite the usual thing to join some of the group afterwards for a drink downstairs in the main bar, yet tonight everybody seemed to need an early night. Instead, while we packed away, I chatted with Tatiana variously about our shared enthusiasm for travel and the London life art scene. I would be back for long poses next week and perhaps would partake of a large red wine then; for now, a fill of Chinese food would suffice.
More than ever before I feel appreciative for everything that participation in the arts has brought me. Not only the internal satisfaction and outward self-expression that comes of life modelling, but also the joy of being in company with creative people. Whether it be from the simple sharing of common interests or the profound pleasure of realising a deep-seated connection, there has been – and is now – so much to cherish.
Five days after my booking for The Moon and Nude at The Old Dairy in Crouch Hill, I was posing at their sister venue in Clapham – The Sun. So much life had unfolded between these life modelling dates, yet here I could relax into familiarity if I so wished. Familiar space, familiar pace and indeed a familiar face, as group co-organiser Aless welcomed me back.
As at Crouch Hill, pose lengths during the first half were 5 minutes. 4, 3, 2, 1-minute, then 10 minutes, 15, 20 minutes. Extra time is available here after the break – it is a standard two-hour booking instead of an hour and three-quarters – so we followed with 35 minutes and 4 minutes. I could relax into familiarity, yet still preferred a challenge.
I tried to make all the short poses a bit stressful, either with tense or extended limbs that encouraged me to focus on the body rather than the mind. Even a semi-reclining 10-minute posture incorporated strains and stretches. The cumulative effect of these mild exertions clearly had an impact as my legs seemed to shiver beneath me while I stood for the next 15 minutes.
Sitting upright on the floor during the 20 minutes that followed, I intertwined my limbs for added stability. After the break, Aless encouraged me to lay down for the longest pose; not to take my ease but because apparently it’s popular with the artists. Even so, I raised both forearms and one knee to give the pose fully three dimensions, and hopefully create a more original challenge for those who were drawing me.
The final 4 minutes standing raced by in a blur, as did the subsequent packing away and exiting. Artists disappeared so quickly that I had no time to see any works from the second half. Indeed, within five minutes of finishing I too had dressed, bid Aless farewell and was heading home. Such efficiency, so easy in the telling, and yet still beneath it all there remain the preoccupations of the mind.
Two hours is a long time to be a motionless invisible human being, lost under intense visual scrutiny devoted largely to the physical. No matter what might be experienced at that level, the mind will always discover its own spaces. In stillness it can process, settle, absorb. Often I am aware of spontaneous smiles; private smiles in a crowded room. I take them to be a healthy sign, and these to be good times.
As October arrives, so life modelling effectively enters its winter season. Those of us set to spend hours posing naked and motionless in a sunless room naturally turn our attention to whether or not a heater will be provided. Venues without them soon earn a poor reputation in the community of models. How pleasing, therefore, to discover The Moon and Nude at The Old Dairy making an extra special effort:
“Got the hot water bottle ready for you Steve.”
I didn’t know exactly what this meant when Julia, the group’s co-organiser, posted the message while I was on my way to the venue. Upon arrival, however, I was shown her simple stroke of genius: she’d filled a hot water bottle with boiling water and placed it amid pillows under the sheets on the floor. This was in addition to a traditional electric heater standing to one side. So thoughtful – and it worked!
Having thus been spoiled, the onus was now on me to deliver an interesting sequence of poses for the 21 artists that surrounded me on all sides. Timings would be as per the usual format here: 5 minutes, 4, 3, 2, 1-minute, then 10 minutes, 15, 20 minutes to a break, followed by half an hour to finish. It’s possibly my favourite arrangement.
For the short poses I stood, sat in a lotus position, stood again, cowered and planked. For the medium poses I stood, sat on the floor and lay down. Finally, I set a bar stool centre-stage and sat upright with a slight body twist for the closing pose. That twist is important for a longer pose as it means at least three-quarters of the room should see (hopefully) an interesting profile, whereas a front-facing pose may serve only half.
Time flew. It is a lovely group organised by genuinely nice people. Within myself I am enjoying life, so I was posing with a becalmed body and a mind swimming with happy thoughts. We switched on the heater during the second half, and the hot water bottle served me well throughout, but ultimately on this night it was the positivity in the room and in my own spirit that warmed me most.
Where there’s life there’s hope…
After a break for the summer, life drawing had returned to The Pigeon Hole café in Camberwell, but the full complement of artists had not. An art group with insufficient artists cannot be an art group for long. The week before my booking, one of the most outstanding models in London had been drawn by just two very lucky attendees.
I arrived at a quarter to seven and was met by friend, model, artist, photographer and traveller extraordinaire, Tatiana Moressoni. Close behind me was our first artist. As I wandered through to the back room, a couple more arrived; this was looking positive. Two more joined us, then another, and then another. When the last came in midway through my first pose, we had eight in total. Excellent!
The Pigeon Hole is possibly the smallest, most intimate venue in which I’ve modelled. Artists can be so close-up that they focus on body parts rather than the body whole. With eight artists, we had practically a full house. Tatiana could scarcely believe her sudden change in fortune. Attendances have been down in life drawing groups across London, so it was marvellous to behold an upturn here.
My work was all atop the café bar. Poses of 2 minutes, 2, 5, 5, 10, 15 and 15 minutes occupied the first half of the evening. After breaking to partake of a most agreeable red wine, poses in the second session were 10, 15 and 15-minutes. I love the challenge of trying to present as much variety as possible in such a confined space.
All done, everyone seemed pleased. It had been a pleasure to see Tatiana for the first time since March. Her breadth of experience means she understands her models and artists and the needs of each. I should be modelling for her flagship Camberwell Life Drawing group later this month at The Cambria – local artists: come along, support, sustain, create and above all enjoy.
steve ritter 