“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.
The automated announcement at Blackfriars station cut out part way through and an exasperated human voice took its place: “I’m switching those messages off because they all say the same thing – basically the trains are buggered.” This did not bode well for my chances of completing the 11-minute journey to Herne Hill on time.
In half an hour I was due to be posing nude at The Prince Regent pub in Herne Hill for SketchPad Drawing. I phoned Lisa, the group’s organiser, to explain my situation and give the pledge that if needs be I would jump in a cab. I’ve never been late for a life model booking and I didn’t intend to start in these circumstances.
Fortunately the problem – a broken down train at City Thameslink station – was fixed within ten minutes and services began slowly trickling through. I made it to the venue with four minutes to spare. A noticeable shortage of artists for this normally crowded group suggested I wasn’t the only one to have been caught up in the trouble.
Loulou Reloulou was my co-model for the evening. She would be wearing strikingly flamboyant costumes in one room while I posed nude in another. We swapped rooms at half-time. In the first half I started off with a 15-minute pose that ran to 20; followed it with a 5-minute pose that ran to 10; and ended with a 25-minute pose bang on time.
A single pose of 45 minutes occupied the second session. At my previous visit Lisa had been keen to put me in poses that would accentuate my long limbs. Despite her being – in her own words – “two foot shorter” than me, she demonstrated a sprawled, slouched, spread-eagled pose that she wanted me to try. I gave of my best.
Excellent artworks were produced in both rooms. In the second half I was fascinated by artist Gemma Cook, who worked on four giant sheets of paper, laying each on the floor when she was satisfied with it. I couldn’t see exactly what was going on whilst in pose but, when finally free to look, I was astounded by her superb work.
I left The Prince Regent a happy man. My journey home was beset by rail engineering rather than train failures, but the important part of the evening had worked out just fine. I’ll always be pleased to travel for this group.
Postscript
As Gemma ran out of time before she could complete her gigantic work, I allowed her to take a photo of the missing left side so she could finish at home. Within three days she very kindly sent me images of the final masterpiece, plus her photo from the night itself, which captured some beautiful Caravaggio-like light. Here they are:
Invite a group of creative friends – photographers, painters, posers, performers – who are each willing to cover a share of the cost.
Converge on said studio one sunny September Sunday.
All get naked.
Make art.
Arty Shoots
This was Arty Shoots, a fully collaborative venture between artists and models, dreamt up by Natansky and Phil L. Its central concept was that like-minded individuals could come together in a clothing-optional environment, develop their ideas, create images and freely share the results.
There was an agreement to be signed but essentially our basis for collective working was one of mutual respect and trust. Most of the images created on the day would be photographs, although for some the ultimate intent was to reproduce them as fine oil paintings.
Photographers (togs) Darren Swindells, James W, Phil L and Scott Hortop arrived at Belt Craft Studios laden with gear and props. Painters Adrian and Morris also had their cameras and a sketch pad. Natansky and Violette Rose came as both models and photographers. Betty Rogers, LeeRex PaintMe, Louise, Sharon and I were there simply to model. We brought only our bodies.
Meet the models
© tog: Scott / model: Steve
© tog: Morris / model: Louise
© tog: Natansky / model: Betty Rogers
© tog: Phil L / model: Natansky
© tog: Phil L / model: Violette Rose
© tog: Darren / model: Sharon
© tog: Scott / model: LeeRex PaintMe
We posed solo and sometimes in combination: duos, trios or even large groups that included the nude photographers. For me, it was lovely to work with Louise again. We had previously posed together at the Babylon photo shoot just three Sundays before, and found an immediate professional rapport that we carried into Belt Craft.
© tog: Scott / models: Steve, Louise
© tog: Violette Rose / models: Steve, Louise
© tog: Scott / models: Louise, Steve
Sunlight and shadows graced our bare skin as we ranged across the studio’s brushed leather sofa. Angles and contrasts were interpreted uniquely by each photographer. when I posed solo on the same sofa, it was with shoulders arched down to the floor. The stark images captured by Violette were among my favourites from the day.
© tog: Violette Rose / model: Steve
© tog: Violette Rose / model: Steve
Photography
As models in situ, we had little way of knowing how our poses were being perceived and recorded. Similarly we couldn’t know which finished works the photographers would choose to express in colour, and which would be monochrome. It was fascinating to see the final mixture of styles.
© tog: Morris / model: Louise
© tog: Phil L / model: Steve
© tog: Scott / model: Sharon
© tog: Darren / models: LeeRex PaintMe, Violette Rose
© tog: Phil L / model: Betty Rogers
© tog: Scott / model: Natansky
Yet it wasn’t just the photographers who called the shots. Models could suggest or adopt poses and, if they captured the imagination of anyone with a camera, a shoot would begin. When Louse and I next crossed paths we took the initiative with a series of tango-influenced postures.
© tog: Scott / model: Steve, Louise
© tog: Natansky / model: Steve, Louise
© tog: James / model: Steve, Louise
The informal freedom with which anyone could interact meant that sometimes models were photographed off-guard while relaxing. This resulted in some wonderfully natural shots. I was taking time out on one of Belt Craft’s many sofas when Scott and Nat glided towards me, their cameras at the ready…
© tog: Natansky / model: Steve
© tog: Scott / model: Steve
Props
Opening the door to Belt Craft had been like uncovering a treasure trove of bric-a-brac. Studio props lined every wall. Put alongside the pieces we’d brought ourselves, there was much to play with: a tin bath, furniture, a rocking horse, a pommel horse, punch bag, pick handle, lamp shades, acoustic guitar, bicycle, crash helmets, gas mask, balaclava, giant Rubik’s Cube, cargo net, suitcases, to name but a few.
© tog: Natansky / model: Louise
© tog: Natansky / model: Violette Rose
© tog: Morris / model: Louise
© tog: Natansky / model: LeeRex PaintMe
© tog: Phil L / model: Louise, Betty Rogers
© tog: Natansky / model: LeeRex PaintMe
© tog: Phil L / model: Betty Rogers
© tog: Natansky / model: Natansky
One of the more challenging items was a length of rope that Darren secured tightly between two ceiling beams. He and I both attempted to hang from it crucifix-style with outstretched arms, but found it horribly strenuous, lasting only a few seconds. Then Louise tried, and within moments was swinging as light as a butterfly.
© tog: Phil L / model: Louise
Being a minimalist at heart, I tend to prefer the simplicity of just a nude human body shot in sympathy with its surroundings. Very few, if any, of my own poses involved the use of props, which perhaps limited my range on the day. Even so, Nat and Scott managed to make fair use of my unadorned form in a variety of settings.
© tog: Natansky / model: Steve
© tog: Scott / model: Steve
© tog: Natansky / model: Steve
© tog: Scott / model: Steve
If the simplicity of a nude human body is to be embellished in any way, then the ideal compliment is a second nude human body. Whether harmonious or contrasting, the duo poses always provided an extra degree of dynamism, maybe even suggesting a subtle narrative – in sympathy if not exact symmetry.
© tog: Morris / model: Louise, Steve
Serendipity
Occasionally the magic of a great shot would about by pure chance. For instance, during the development of a floor pose in which I would appear gently to lift Louise’s limp body, an unknown person picked up Phil’s unattended camera and captured the image below. It was an opportunist act that found the perfect angle at the perfect moment.
© tog: unknown / model: Steve, Louise
Another tender tableau was caught towards the end of our time at Belt Craft. Violette was to be photographed laying on bare floorboards, her skin decorated from head to toe with freshly cut chrysanthemums. While Natansky and I worked meticulously to balance small flower heads across her taut body, Scott quietly photographed the three of us in what turned out to be the best ‘behind the scenes’ shot of the day.
© tog: Scott / model: Steve, Violette Rose, Natansky
Even when we were all done, back in our clothes with gear and props packed away, good things could still happen. With his very last shot, James used manual settings to focus close-up on the paint cracks of a door frame while three of us conversed, casually unaware, in the blur of his background. With chill-out music playing, it was the perfect image to send us home.
© tog: James / models: Morris, Louise, Steve
More besides
The images here are merely my personal top 40 selected from hundreds taken on the day – many of which remain unseen by anyone but their photographer. Elsewhere we have shots of nude models hanging from beams and girders, leaning out of windows, sitting on the lavatory, and even being hosed down with cold water – all for art’s sake.
With seven models came seven different body types, each worn with magnificent confidence and personality, each applied to poses that expressed their individuality, exuberance and character. The photographers brought ease, energy and enthusiasm that struck a common chord with those in front of the lens. We had a lot of fun.
All these things came to pass on 28 September 2014. There had been Arty Shoots before and there have been Arty Shoots since. So far this is the only one in which I’ve taken part. In the right circumstances it would be a pleasure to repeat the experience, but some days are just that little bit special. To recreate the format may be practical; to rediscover the spirit would be divine.
steve ritter 