life modelling

When Life Models Gather ~ A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 3

In a small seaside town on the coast of England, was an ambitious, older female model. She was quite large and working class. She loved her work and had done it for many years in her region. A dream of hers was to bring together life models in a group or gathering, and not just from close by to her. She had an idea about those models already, and was keen to stretch her net further and meet models from far away. From places where there was a huge variety of models and lots of younger ones too. When Facebook came along, it was an answer to her prayers, and soon she realised she could make a group there, at the end of 2009. She called it Life Models Only, and it was private – it needed to be, since some models wouldn’t join otherwise. In any case, they might be sharing nude drawings of themselves.

Drawing from the same workshop by Mike Flight; several models posing simultaneously

It was small to begin with, not reaching very far, but even this was a big step, simply joining up the models most local to her as well as a few of the more trusted artists. Some of the models were artists as well or married to artists so there was an organic way that people fitted into the group.

It wasn’t really until a couple of years later that some models from different counties and London had been grasped, and then the purpose of the group began to grow too. The conversations became more lively and you could tell that the contributors were really excited to be talking to one another for the first time. The leader, the woman who originated the group – let’s call her Leslie since I have lost touch with her – was extremely delighted by everyone’s interest and would tell the group how happy it made her to bring them together. What had begun as a handful of people, then settled at around 50 for a while, and now was over 100 and growing. It was 2012 and she had some of the most well known models in London there, who were also in the business of bringing models together. They knew lots of other models and kept adding people. For me there was a peak perhaps during that year when it was still very fresh, as well as 2013.

Leslie arranged gatherings at a venue local to her where a group of models from all over the country would pose together and be drawn by artists. Something similar had been organised in the North of England, though it wasn’t model-led. London Drawing were holding ‘The Drawing Theatre’ regularly which would involve a few models in theatrical tableaux in bigger venues. Art Macabre, originally ‘Death Drawing’, offered a gothic variety. Draw in Brighton held ‘The Drawing Circus‘, along similar lines but perhaps with more models, some being musicians, and on more of a collective-run basis. Spirited Bodies was in its heyday, organising multi-model extravaganzas including experienced and totally new models, mostly in London though we did also venture to Scotland. We held smaller workshops as well, such as the pictures are from, which were really for newcomers to try and learn how to model.

So there was this thriving, exciting, creative energy across the UK for experimenting, expanding and reaching new people with life drawing, and I have possibly missed out some projects! Certainly more emerged over the years, but these are what I remember from that time. Big events would attract models who travelled long distances to take part. It was a bit like the thrill of participating in a Spencer Tunick event, for that kind of person. We loved modelling per se; and we loved it even more in large groups. It was euphoric; like a rave, but with no drugs or loud music; just something purely natural and artistic. It was primal. All these different bodies feeling equal and accepted. Disabled people; their carers; people of all or as many ethnicities as possible; all genders; all expressions of humanity, all shapes and colours and ages; and on a common wavelength of art and body acceptance. It was glorious.

I remember the delight I felt at discussing matters of our modelling work with the Life Models Only group. This would also happen with ‘The List’* email group, where one found oneself eagerly awaiting others’ responses when something significant was under the models’ microscope of analysis. It made me feel empowered I think, with regard to my work and my rights. If something happened at a job which didn’t feel right, I could immediately let one of these groups know, whichever was most appropriate. I could receive others’ take on it and perhaps encouragement towards questioning whatever wasn’t sitting well. It gave one power to be able to say to an organiser, “This isn’t how other groups operate”, to be able to tell them real examples of how other places dealt with situations.

* see A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 1 and A Story of Life Modelling ~ part 2

When exactly Life Models Only became so large that it ceased to be a place where conversations felt intimate and safe, I can’t recall now, perhaps around 2014 – 2015. It felt out of control so I stopped tuning in. Other groups had emerged on Facebook and sometimes for a while that initial excitement would be there if something juicy came up. Leslie enjoyed having created an empire and all the attention it brought her. It would attract different jobs and opportunities to her and the group. Art projects which might not be paid but were fun. She met lots of new people. There was a cross-over with people who were naturists, and some of those were also into sexual freedom. This was a new arena for Leslie and she was a very curious person, open to discovering new avenues to explore.

At some point, her judgement seriously lapsed, because some of the men in the group had a predator nature that needed to be managed (and kicked out). Their inappropriate advances were not what other life models appreciated, and exactly the sort of thing, experience has shown us has to be kept in check in such groups online. The delicate matter was, for Leslie, these men represented a fun opportunity, while for other women they were a pest. I have to say, her naiveté aside, and inability to dance such a nuanced line, I also have compassion for how her experience as an older, larger woman exploring her sexuality later in life was her priority. Didn’t I get the chance to do that when I was young? Did I take for granted being found attractive? Hadn’t I known in my bones since I was a teenager that it was imperative for me to try lots of things out. To have different partners and see what was possible and push my boundaries. I salute anyone choosing that journey at any time in life, and even more so when they are older. That’s how you find out what you like, or it’s a way to do so. It’s not for everyone, but if it calls you, go follow. Nothing is simply good or bad, and while many of us would readily banish those pesty men, for her, they were her chance. Surely such unions ought to be encouraged where all parties are happy to be at the party.

That said, the group became a car crash, taken over by what to most people felt like a sleazy cartel. Not a pleasant place to be, certainly not what it had originally been. It was entertaining at best, if you looked on in detached incredulity. It may or may not have worked for Leslie in the end, it was hard to tell since matters spiralled way beyond any sane intervention. Such was the demise of Life Models Only which went out in a fiery blaze in late 2017, along with at least one other group, also infiltrated by the wrong people. This is a cautionary tale which I share because it is easily forgotten yet contains important messages. It’s not about Leslie’s folly, or all the bad people. It’s about when our passions exceed our awareness of others, and how overall, the experience of being part of what she created, allowed some of us to learn from it.

So a new life model group on Facebook was created which still goes, (though it is only London wide) and led by someone who had experience of all these forerunners, thus the aforementioned mistakes are mitigated against thoroughly. It seems it is quite a rare person in the scene who has the time, awareness and inclination to manage one of these groups. The group feels safe, but where we are now in 2025, and how many years it has been running, it contains 3.5 thousand members, so long gone are the days of natural, easy, intimate connection. For that I tend towards the people I already know. Maybe one day I will rediscover a smaller space as well, where people can connect in a safe group of optimum size.

The complexity of Leslie’s circumstance sheds light on the very sensitive matters pertaining to the holding of groups of people who practice nudism in some form, even as life models. They can be a magnet for men or people who seek sexual fulfilment/connection, or intimacy, and that may be hidden behind their front as a model or artist. While the full blown manifestation of this is generally inappropriate in the life drawing scene; in essence, it isn’t strange or wrong. By that I mean the energetic impulse of attraction and connection. It is actually natural; what is a problem is when it manifests in a predatory manner.

It is normal that we want to explore that part of ourselves and find others to do so with who may share an artistic interest. The nakedness in life modelling is an access point for sensing sexuality; we literally display our sex. Very often, the way these energies may be explored in the life drawing scene, is extremely subtle and in fact entirely unspoken. It may be a flirt but not necessarily with an individual; rather with a whole group, or platform. The response may be a drawing and a friendship. Truly it’s an incredibly healthy place to experience and share creative energies, where nothing physical beyond the posing generally takes place.

It’s a positive, uplifting feeling of sharing our naked selves with others, and being appreciated. It engenders moods and sensations of all manner of human experience, which goes much further than sexuality alone. This extraordinary exchange of energies can go a very long way; and for some, it takes the place of intimate partnership. It’s a favoured alternative. It means they can enjoy multiple attractions, without the complications of deeper entanglement! I think it’s pretty advanced as a life strategy, if that’s your thing. I also think it’s important to say that how we conduct ourselves is very pertinent. We must behave impeccably, or it will be detected easily, amongst such a sensitive crowd. Intent that crosses a line, even if it is only felt, will be noticed. Our true essence ideally resonates harmoniously with the others in the group. It’s about self awareness, and not projecting our desires onto others unduly.

There’s also the matter of distinguishing between very different scenes. There may be some nudity in common; but the norms, behaviours, vibes and expectations are completely different. It’s true that scenes can vary and encompass a variety of shades – like the swingers among the naturists; or erotic life drawing within life drawing as a whole. But these sexier strands are clearly demarcated subcultures.

I have shared drawings from a Spirited Bodies workshop in 2013 which was held at a community centre in Holborn, central London. Several people were learning how to model, practising different poses. There was an older couple among the group who were coming to terms with the woman’s loss of eye sight and mobility. They were very sweet as was the whole group who were wonderfully supportive of each other, and diverse. Artists captured them in a variety of ways. Beautiful memories.

These ‘Story of Life Modelling’ posts began on the Newington Green Life Drawing site.

Story of Life Modelling ~ part 2

It might have been Pratts (most excellent name for a life drawing group ever) in Twickenham where I saw Lucy first, if not The Mall Galleries, as we posed from opposite ends of the hall. I saw her before I spoke with her. Across the room, the largest model I’d ever seen, by far. A completely different animal to me, sprawling majestically along the bench. She was quite loud too; I could hear her negotiating her pose with the artists, or explaining it. And she laughed, she was jolly. I could tell she meant business and had plans for me, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be involved so I didn’t come forth at first. She was approaching with a notebook and pen and I sensed that she wanted my contact details and to do something awkward like connect! Although I was about 30 I was still pretty shy socially in certain settings, my work place included. I could give it all in the poses, but I didn’t need to make friends yet… We were surely very different and I was trying to write a play.

As I spelt out my email address to her she was adding it to a list. There were quite a few already on the scrap of paper which was nestled in her pad. Where did she find them and how long had she been collecting them? What was she going to do with it? It might have been a few months later I received her newsletter. It was long and rambling and I think she’d suffered from a lengthy uncomfortable pose with a dubious organiser. She wanted to share her experience with us, random models who probably didn’t know each other. She was gathering us in person too, only I couldn’t make it. These emails would appear and she would offer up tutors’ contact details, though I don’t remember following any of them up. I was already well booked, and learnt early that jobs which approached me directly tended to work out better for me than when I wrote to them.

Over time however, the value of this list resource became apparent to all of us. If one became ill, or needed to attend a rehearsal, a quick email could solve one’s inability to fulfil a commitment personally. You could tailor it – ‘slim dynamic female model needed to cover me!’ Luckily for me this category is well catered for amongst life models, and I came to know who was best suited. The trick was finding someone who the artists wouldn’t prefer… as that was something the list couldn’t legislate for. Not only have you let the group down, but also the stand-in is better! That probably happened to all of us at some stage, as well as conversely being the favoured stand-in. Equally important was that the stand-in was reliable and didn’t upset the group (unless you didn’t really like them of course). So the list had to be quality controlled. Tricky situations included being ill and the only available model is nothing like you. They go along to the job, and they receive a comment which could be racist. Obviously being white, I hadn’t experienced that from those people (though could imagine it, it’s not totally out of place). It becomes necessary to ditch that group, but the racism isn’t clear-cut enough that you can easily out them publicly. It was a flavour of what other models may more often encounter.

Round the corner from Heatherleys was a tower block estate on the edge of Chelsea. There was a squat inside where Brazilian circus artists and migrants who did not have the right to work in the UK lived. They made excellent models for the ladies who lunch, and Chelsea folk refining their drawing technique. A French male model was supplying drugs to the rest of the models, and one Autumn there was a climax of models breaking down and spinning out. The models were absent, collapsing and in a state of chaos. This energy of disruption was affecting the whole school, and while some students were deeply infatuated with their exotic muses, the uncertainty of the models’ presence pushing their artwork further, it couldn’t go on. Outside of the models’ clique who could tell who was behind it? A change in the system took time to embed in the school, necessitating longstanding models to reapply for the job, submitting various forms and official documents (actually this happened at all the colleges over a number of years). By the end of that process drug sharing was no longer so rampant, and the model pool was less interesting; more limited. Even among those who were legal, the job became less desirable. To maintain the former edge required finding different work, as yet unscathed by an increasingly intrusive bureaucracy.

This description of that earlier cohort of models (predating ‘The List’ in fact) highlights how applying excessive red tape to art schools and departments affected life on the ground. I was around just early enough to experience the different species we used to be. When we were edgier and less acceptable, we came from underground, on the fringes of society. We were unafraid to be strange, in fact committed to it. We were exiles and runaways, freaks who embraced our eccentricity. What became a nice job for people who were already quite comfortable, once nudity wasn’t so demonised, had previously been the domain of the brave and the unusual. Some of the pool hasn’t changed; we’ve always been actors and dancers or artists ourselves. And I am not being negative about the changes; I helped to create them. I think it’s good that more people have the chance to try our profession and explore themselves that way. I like that nudity becomes more acceptable – and we still have a long way to go.

Different currents coexist; while many of us are more comfortable with our bodies, others are swept up in pursuing an eternal youth, fed by late capitalist overdrive, if not sunken in self loathing, very distant from loving their own form. Multicultural inclusivity in fact threatens areas of our liberation, whilst a real fear of perverts escalates the problem. The hope is that we realise part of what makes our land so desirable, is our cultural freedom and openness to accept diversity. We welcome you in all your magnificence, and reciprocity is the only appropriate response. Of course I’m not speaking of the cruder elements encroaching – the far right becoming popular. However naïve I have faith in the light and will always follow it. The news does not have an interest in how many of us are waking up to love ourselves more, and it is this powerful drive which may turn the tide on the negative influences still besetting us.

Regardless of the bureaucratic shift, our culture permits personal exploration and individuation. This is really important. I don’t fully know why, but in some other countries it seems people are less willing to stand out and evolve themselves. Perhaps their laws and systems reflect this, but it’s also part of their national psyche. The possibility of pursuing art in later life, whether you initially trained in it when you were young or not, is so vital for growth. Freeing ourselves from the idea that only people who are naturally gifted may create art, is also key. Letting go of judging ourselves too harshly comes into it, and actually pervades an awful amount of our lives. Being open to making a mess and having fun is vital, whether through an artform, cooking, or walking in the woods. Leaving behind the straitjacket of social convention needs to happen if we are to expand into our greatest version of ourselves. Extricating ourselves from herd mentality and instead being ready to follow our individual callings is where the magic happens. To know what that calling is you oftentimes have to slow and quiet down, listen inwards. That voice is there but you must give it the right conditions.

lines drawn on Lucy’s face whilst posing for sculpture at Kensington & Chelsea college

Long before the rise of fashionable life drawing in recent years, there were ever groups of older (and sometimes not so old!) people round the UK meeting up to draw nudes. On a Tuesday morning in suburbia, or a Wednesday afternoon in the home counties; wherever it is be it church hall or community centre, someone’s garage or above a pub… this has been going on for decades! It crosses the class system I was delighted to find. Working class artists are at it just as much, even if fewer of them may afford the likes of Heatherleys or other traditional art schools. In these groups, the social aspect is valuable too. It’s about community and what makes life worth living. Older members die off and new ones must be recruited, so the group is open to those who haven’t done art before but would like to try now. Not always, but I do see that.

The models have always been very international, it’s part of our pedigree and makes us more interesting. We bring more relaxed attitudes, or escape authoritarian ones. We feel freer to express ourselves on foreign soil, away from family judgement. Being secular is what makes British life so available. Over the years I have been friends with several models, British and from elsewhere. Sometimes an assumption pervades that being born British life must be easier for one, but I don’t think it’s so simple. Often those who make it here from elsewhere are strong to have made that move. Whether they escaped, or chose a culturally advantageous location, there is strength in upping roots to make a new life in another country. Many people can’t, and I know I was limited in my earlier years by such predicaments. From addiction to being caught in abusive relationships, these circumstances hold one back, wherever you are.

Being a model can be a leveller, a means by which a new arrival to the UK may obtain work easily, without knowing much of the language, and purely by the magnetism of their character, ability to turn up on time and hold still, play on a reasonably level playing field with their British sisters and brothers. Most of my model colleagues have been foreign, and from the EU, which has not become distant as was feared, since Brexit. Many pass through modelling on the way to something better paid and more specialised, as well as Motherhood. More arrive and emerge. We are constantly renewing!

This series of posts about my life modelling journey is also featured on the Newington Green Life Drawing group’s site.

A Story of Life Modelling – part 1

Portrait of me by Celia Montague at Heatherleys School of Fine Art in 2008

Back in 2007 I began life modelling for a handful of artists my sister put me in touch with. She had modelled as a student and handed her contacts over to me when she emigrated not long after leaving college. Peter Hall was and still is an artist and model who ran a few groups and his small friendly Vauxhall session was my first. After that I knew I could do it and was pretty good as well, even as a brand new model. I had trained in physical theatre and was working as a jobbing actor. In the past I’d worked in various states of undress in adult entertainment shall we say. I’d also learnt how to meditate a few years before. So making shapes whilst nude and holding still for an audience of artists was not a problem in the slightest, in fact very enjoyable.

Another contact was a watercolour life painting tutor at the CityLit college, so I got employment there, and also at Heatherleys School of fine art. Once I got acquainted with Heatherleys I realised this could be a full time job. It was very easy to quickly be booked there all day everyday and possibly evenings too, plus weekends. It wasn’t in one’s best interests for mental health to be there that much however*, and in any case there was plenty of other work coming in too from all sorts of directions. I hadn’t fully appreciated at the time how it happened that I became a life model just before an enormous upsurge in the popularity of life drawing was about to take place. It was intersecting with a few cultural zeitgeists all at once. The British taboo/fascination with nudity; a trend in the art world swinging back to embrace the tradition of life drawing; and a soon to be emerging movement for body acceptance as well as personal empowerment. Little did I know those last ones would be very significant for my career in a few years.

Other factors affording the incredible proliferation of the life drawing scene in the UK since about 2009, include a flexible bureaucracy enabling people to easily start up their own groups – to hire spaces and book models. Such a system does not exist in France or some other places on the continent for example, so even though they have very important art centres, there are curbs on innovation and the pursuing of individual projects. I have always valued that relatively relaxed state of play we have, making it possible to realise one’s dreams in quite simple ways. It was even more relaxed when I first began as at that time, an undocumented migrant could work as a life model in many of the institutions who still paid cash. That has changed. There are also more safeguarding procedures now in art centres making it incumbent on organisers and models to have certain certificates, whether DBS for working with children or vulnerable adults; or public liability insurance; sometimes for first aid; as well as getting any electrical equipment safety checked.

From 2010 life models began to get together in a Facebook group called Life Models Only. It was very exciting, the first time we were connecting with each other not only with other models in the same city, but across the UK and sometimes from other parts of the world. A tandem group for life drawing artists and models which is still going is called LifeArt. That was always a very international space, but more artist led. Prior to and alongside the Facebook groups some of the London models had been gathered together in an email group by model Lucy Saunders. I met her at The Mall Galleries (Hesketh Hubbard) since they would book 4 models each Friday evening. She was keen that we should join up, share jobs, and organise to raise the pay and improve conditions. A union!

She arranged meetings in person as well, and shared life model news via her newsletter. We would offer jobs to ‘The List’ as it was known if we couldn’t make them ourselves. It was extremely helpful, and we could warn each other too, if an artist had crossed a line, which was generally an experience that female models faced. It wasn’t commonplace, but it did happen sometimes, and then having these groups was instrumental. Once we were on social media, it was possible to effect change almost immediately. It wasn’t such a big scene, so if someone was misbehaving, soon everyone would know.

More often it was to warn of a venue which was particularly cold, or didn’t offer enough breaks! Or the changing space was unsafe, or the artists demanded very challenging poses unsuitable to the model. In this way we would learn about each others’ circumstances, and how the job was a bit different for another kind of model. For example, some gigs were only booking female models, and some were only booking dancers or slim young female models. Others loved more variety. There were fewer fat models so they could be more in demand, but some places didn’t want them. There was a scarcity of models of colour, apart from a few main players including Morimda and Matthew who were both long time black models. It was very difficult to find Asian models.

It was towards the end of 2010 I received an email from Morimda, who was creating an art project where life modelling would be used as a tool to empower women regarding their body image. She wanted Lucy to be on board since she was a big networker, and she invited me as well, as I was also very experienced and articulate, and importantly online (at that time some of the old school models eschewed social media). We were going to put on an event at The Mall Galleries and invite 20 women to take part as models for their first time. The artists were up for the challenge. We would guide the new models regarding how to pose. In the end only 9 women took part, but even that was a considerable number of people to have modelling simultaneously. It was a wonderful sight to behold and I felt very proud of our achievement. We had prepared all the women in advance, and monitored their progress afterwards by staying in touch. Some became regular models. It was an overall success, only Morimda had had to back out of much of the organising in the run up. I did a lot of it myself and with Lucy. Truly it brought out something in me which hadn’t previously had an outlet; some kind of ability to lead and guide. I immersed myself in the project and it felt very rewarding. Morimda had to let go of it after the first event for personal reasons and she asked me to take it on, which I gladly did. The project was called Spirited Bodies and it is not exaggerating to say that it changed my life. That is another story for another post!

Sketch from the first Spirited Bodies event in November 2010 at The Mall Galleries, by John Sutton

This post also features on and in fact was requested originally by Newington Green Life Drawing group for their blog.

Reflections

This term I am modelling a fair bit at Hampstead School of Art, which is a lovely art school in north west London. A super friendly place which feels like a family under the enthusiastic and loving care of Anat and Isobel. I am there all day on Thursdays for sculpture classes with Patricia Barker who makes beautiful stone carving work (the classes are in clay). On Saturdays I model for a life class with art writer, speaker and artist Estelle Lovatt, and a portrait class with artist John Murphy-Woolford. After half term my schedule changes, and I will get five classes a week.

The following drawings are by students in Estelle’s class. She set up the pose with a mirror (and skeleton) for an interesting reflection. I love the variety of responses, these are just a few. It was a meditative pose as I look through the window at the big tree in the garden, becoming greener and fuller each week of the emergent Spring.

At some point in the winter, I think half term in February, I called into the school after swimming at the pond on Hampstead Heath, to ask for work. My mobile phone no loner makes (or receives) ordinary calls which definitely constitutes a reason for replacing it. The truth is I kind of enjoy being creative about getting round this matter (it otherwise works). Anat welcomed me – after several years’ absence. I had been put off by the long journey in rush hour, however under the correcting influence of universal credit, I was thinking ahead to the summer term, which can be quieter for modelling. Plus, in the intervening years I have developed a passion for regular cold water swimming, particularly on Hampstead Heath. This alignment was bound to zing in Summer when the ponds are open late enough for a dip post work. Anat snapped me up, happy to fill in diary blanks with someone the tutors know well.

Hampstead School of Art is a short walk from the West Heath with the beautiful Pergola raised walking platform looking over the landscape between hanging flowers and branches twisted around the stone structure. Further on the animals in Golders Hill park call from their cages, but I continue my walk through the woods to the East Heath to get my pond fix. As I arrive into the woodland after a long day of six hours modelling plus the morning journey and lunch, I can feel my energy expanding into the sprawling foliage, relaxing in all directions. Into the curling, reaching branches, fluffy blossom, dense lower bushes, tangles of roots under foot. The birdsong eases a tension I have been holding yet was unaware of, so I slow down. I feel like I have arrived home. I don’t always swim; sometimes I prefer simply sitting and walking or lying on the heath. It is my medicine.

Like a good school child I feel reassured after my universal credit six month interview in Forest Hill. He says I’ve done well; he can tell I’m making an effort and increasing my workflow. He is my work coach and we have a comfortable, friendly rapport. I’m relieved by his reaction; and I get a sense I am making his life a bit easier, giving him a chance to show his warmth. He got a bit embarrassed at our first meeting, asking to see my website. Instagram I explained, is really where it’s at, but it’s full of naked drawings of me so we bypassed that option.

This time he tells me many of the arts professionals he sees are really struggling, but I seem to be on track, doing fine. He wants to see my receipts and is impressed by all the train journeys to jobs many miles away – Guildford, Wokingham, Harpenden… I let him know I am using this universal credit experience to my advantage, that it’s helping me to focus. To notice what is working in my life. That I even applied for a completely different job which I didn’t get, but that I tried and I did want it. That would have been working at my beloved pond, a pretty ordinary job, yet at a place I love. My CV however shows that I haven’t done anything outside of the arts for well over 20 years. When asked questions at the interview about tricky situations with the public, I was really searching way back for examples of my response. My hesitation spoke loudly, and I could imagine the hot irritable crowds, and my art brain trying to be creative, when sheer decisive action may be required. It’s surely nicer to keep the pond as my swimming haven, not muddied by internal politics and cleaning duties… My work coach made his kind assessment in under 15 minutes though the appointment was for an hour.

During the week I met with my friend Limor to help her rehearse her show, ‘Mermaid in the Heart’, and that was a very sweet exchange which reignited my love of collaboration. It can get lonely working on one’s one person show, filling out all the applications, being alone in rehearsal. It dawned on me to invite Limor to perform her show at my next gig – at The Crypt Gallery in a month, since I would need help anyway, and this way we can help each other. The gig won’t be confirmed till a week before so selling advance tickets is a bit squeezed. Having two of us can make it more fun.

Here is Limor amidst her outdoor dressing area; and the pond at Twinkle park.

Her show is about mythical creatures as archetypes within her, and she has many simple costumes to distinguish them, as well as voices and physicality. We rehearsed in the Twinkle Park in Deptford and Limor hung her costumes on some branches. Being in nature I noticed, suits her performance, and remembered that the Crypt also has a garden. She made me laugh and I loved her lightness as she played inside the different characters occupying her head. It made me aware of how serious I can be! I need this. We’ll meet regularly to prepare. Last year we were here in this park in the Summer, preparing an application which didn’t get picked. We need each other – we need fellow wacky middle-aged theatre/art buddies who make performances that only we perform. A strange unique breed.

‘Enchantment at the Crypt’ will be on Saturday 24th May from 5pm – 7:30pm with two performances, each of an hour, one from her and one from me. If we are bumped from the Crypt and the weather is good, we’ll find somewhere outdoors near us in Brockley or Deptford, south east London.

Here is Limor as an angelic butterfly fairy during her recent performance at Russia Dock, close to where she lives by the river near Surrey Quays.

Circles of Women

Our recent women’s event was in a beautiful space at the Bargehouse (part of Oxo buildings, Southbank), well heated and well attended – with 5 models, and about 10 artists. Poses from 1 – 15 minutes, some with movement. We began dynamic and expansive, and perfected the art of very slowly opening up from an enclosed pose (3 and 5 minutes). In 3 minutes, they had moved so slowly, that when time was up, I found they had hardly opened at all! So I decided on a second round, longer to allow them to complete the movement.

All artwork from the women’s session at the Bargehouse, 4/11/15

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The artists sat in a circle, some drawing in sketch pads, others leaning a board on a chair in front, one or two with their own mini easels set up. Within this circle, the models had a sheeted and cushioned area in which they created their own circles from time to time as they posed.

In daylight before we began

We created 5 minute poses for each element – Fire, Air, Water and Earth. Beautiful ensembles with flames, blowing in the wind, waves, and the solidity of Earth.

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Hands reached up in a blaze of flames

There was a mix of experienced models including Ursula (a full time model and performance poet), and Claire (professional model, writer and feminist artist from the 80s, returning now with mastectomy), and Paula (relatively new). New models included an opera singer, who sang with Ursula in a sonorous pose; also another totally new model.

operatic notes on a page

That was an impromtu inspiration as the singing model was clearly keen, and we have done that sort of thing before at A Human Orchestration a couple years back, so it felt enjoyable to revisit musical models. Really adds to their presence, and in this case, her voice was so powerful that the room shook. I’m not joking, and I wasn’t even next to her, touching her, so I can only imagine the vibrations in the inner circle. At least one artist was moved to tears, and several said they drew differently as touched by her tones.

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Artists familiar, as well as some from the drawing symposium (we were a part of the Southbank Festival of Creativity) made their marks.

sing

A real pleasure to return to my perhaps most passionate area of Spirited Bodies – the sacred women’s space! Though I don’t make much of any spiritual angle, keeping the session within life art/performance narrative, there is an extra element of care and consideration that is about feeling safe, to be all that we are. We are aware, as women together, some of us nude, that we could have body hang-ups, and maybe sometimes we do. But in that space, we are supporting each other to move past that, and enjoy the bodies we are in. We create solidarity, without judgement for ourselves or each other, embracing difference. And that is all that is needed, together with listening to each other, to make a very special warm, shared healing experience.

bending in the wind

We don’t have to have been especially hung-up to benefit immensely; we all gain from the shared liberation, and witnessing each other being and blossoming. Creating a helpful, proactive, responsive community as well, as we connect more, building friendships. In the end, it is the love between us that grows our collective power, beauty, resonance and connection.

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There is space within poses for individuals to practise their own spirituality possibly. Over years of modelling, I believe I have learnt how to very quickly access a meditative state, it is second nature. I smile automatically when discomfort prevails, as doing this alters my mind state to strengthen me, minimising pain. What is more tricky is the muscles reminding me subsequently, that it was not such an easy pose I had fooled myself so well of!

wind

I also talk some of the time, during the session to point out how poses do or don’t work, to guide the models as well as instructing artists, in a different sort of life class! I played a bit of music too, but at the start, I instinctively wanted to let the silence take hold, bringing peace to all of us who had braced ourselves through the city to get there that evening.

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I love circles of women. Last night I danced to the full moon with sisters in a church in Vauxhall. I vary in how much I am feeling it each month, but yesterday was very serene. The DJ, Sarah Davies, gave a little talk on body language which felt very pertinent, it spoke to me. How we hold ourselves affects the way we feel, and vice versa. So we can use this to make ourselves feel stronger, even when we are not necessarily there yet emotionally, or mentally. Create bold, confident shapes with our bodies to empower ourselves.

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I have noticed over the years, that I had to let go of jobs where the artists were too proscriptive about poses, as if I am not in control of them, it can more likely damage my well-being emotionally (as well as physically).

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I love how the full moon women’s dance is run by a bunch of women, tending to be about 10 – 12 years my senior I reckon. They and many of the dancers, are yoga, dance, alternative healing practitioners and artists, so a lot of strong energy in the space, and quite a few run their own women’s spaces. The chairs are cleared from the space and I set to hoovering crumbs, leaves and dust off the massive carpet. It takes a goodly amount of time, especially as I am enjoying being inspired by my moves with the vacuum cleaner! About two thirds of the way through the task, the sound system has been erected, and music begins to fill the church. Housework gets me into my first dance.

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A pair of artists unravel and place items on an altar, immediately in front of the church’s own, which is behind decorated gates. After I have stocked up the toilets with paper, and put the moon pictures up, Sara hands me her palo santo to be burnt, and wafted about to cleanse or smudge the space.

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Low-lit by highly hung chandeliers, the whole church resonates to the ska, hiphop, dance, world, ambient and darkly gothic music. We are moving through waves, rhythms of our feminine expression, of lyrical, flowing, chaotic, staccato and still bodies. I get a lot from this group. I take my friends there, and gradually get to know some of the women I meet there. It is a source of shared knowledge and deeper friendships.

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For me, the instructions through the mic from the DJ about how to move (just suggestions), and what we may be feeling, are often jarring with my own inner journey. I am well habituated to getting into my groove. I discovered at 18 I think, on the dance floor at Slimelight among other venues, how to reach ecstacy through dance, and I wasn’t always on drugs believe it or not! It was a passion, and I knew movement (beyond the everyday) would always be part of my life. I trained in physical theatre at Rose Bruford drama school, in South East London in the early noughties. I wasn’t a great student, but I did appreciate the variety and intensity of some of the outlandish practitioners we immersed ourselves in.

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Still, I do appreciate how having an MC helps to bind the group at times, as well as nurturing some of those who may be newer to dance or being part of such a group. It’s lovely to be in a group that is run by women, repurposing the church of a monthly evening, a church which in fact lends itself to a number of new age groups. At one particular phase of the evening, all the women start howling into the air, for a long long time. So happy to hear their voices, and to be taking up space as Sarah wanted.

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Another women’s space I would like to bring your attention to, is run by Calu Lema, as part of her Naked Movement project. She describes her philosophy, background and intentions very well, and – Details of her next women’s (naked) space, are here.

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I have naturally often thought, how good it would be if the full moon dance was also naked! I wasn’t thinking that yesterday though. The heating was blasting, and we were moving fast some of the time, but it is a big space, so didn’t feel cosy for nudity. Not that that’s really an option here… even in Summer. I also appreciate how it would be highly unlikely that you would get that many women at a naked dance, sadly at the moment. It is very cool to be with so many women dancing though.

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My own next women’s event is on Sunday 13th December, at Tanner Street, close to Tower Bridge, from 11am – 1pm. For trying life modelling and/or drawing, with some gentle exercises to get comfortable with posing, as well as explore how the poses we choose may enhance ourselves and others. Nudity is optional. Naked, we may open up more to each other, face more of ourselves beneath the layers, and appreciate our natural beauty and body shapes. But it’s not for everyone. Artists are usually clothed, and sometimes, after a few years or so of coming to Spirited Bodies, artists pluck up the courage to bare all themselves!

a sea of bodies

Cottage Suitcase

I write from the cottage in my bed. Just 5 more nights in this cosy abode, and 4 more days of modelling, only 2 of which will be the same pose I have been doing since I arrived more than 3 weeks ago. For the final 2 days, we will try something different. “Perhaps a back view,” said Gundula the tutor, “with one knee raised on a stool? Something comfortable,” she tries to sound convincing.

I haven’t had it too bad for the past 16 days, sitting upright on a chair with a cushion. Back unsupported, but one arm resting on chair back. Right shoulder blade (of raised arm) aches if I haven’t had enough sleep. Sleep also very important for keeping eyes open. Some of the students concentrate on my face. I hear hands clapping loudly or my name called if I start drifting off. Enough sleep means I have the wherewithal to alter the pose minimally and unnoticeably (I think) should I start to feel a muscle ache.

Pastel completed by Ted Jacobs who founded the school, in the first 2 weeks

Focussing on the same pose for such a length of time, the students do notice a lot of detail on me. They are training to pick up every nuance of shadow, the different types of shadow – the dark shadows and the light shadows, and every distinction of illumination on me whether from a direct light source – the North facing window, or a reflection from a bright white object nearby (one of my vanguard of heaters). But the light changes every day and sometimes during the day. We have very sunny days and heavily overcast ones, and this causes the most discrepancy. The students are told to work on different sections of their painting when the weather changes, still trying to achieve continuity. Perhaps the background on a grey day.

Trouble is, as November winds on, we get more and more grey mornings. The afternoons often brighten up, but that’s when they do still life, and I am free to roam the countryside.

In the beginning I am utterly taken with this group of people drawing me. They all seem so shiny and healthy, creating a very nourishing environment. Of the 6 students, all from different countries, most follow intricate and healthy diets, veganism featuring quite heavily. The other 2 are French and German; with no unusual dietary habits, just pride in the food they were brought up with. In our village there are no shops, just a bar/restaurant for bikers oddly enough, though you can buy baguettes there if you arrive early. There is a supermarket several kilometres away, and the students fill the organic (bio) aisle when one of them gives us a ride there. I feel a very positive vibe from the group who take their painting pretty seriously. No alcohol during the week, none of them smoke, and it takes me till week 3 to discover the one who is in fact more of a dope fiend than I am. A well kept secret! (And not in France).

My first weekend in the village I am alone – my housemate has gone away, and I get a little depressed. I haven’t yet felt like becoming sociable, I guess partly because I want to maintain my own space so I may achieve the rest here I need (from London chaos), and hopefully get some work done, maybe some writing. There’s something else though, I am still acclimatising and I have not yet settled. I am not used to sharing my home, so being alone is more familiar. I have been enjoying walks around the area, but today feels weird. On the Saturday night I am unable to sleep, and start rereading my book on female shamanism given to me by my sister. It’s the chapter on reclaiming menstruation and it resonates strongly. About how culturally we are conditioned to repress the power and magic of monthly bleeding. I understand this, I actually tend to enjoy my periods as I am more in tune with myself then. I am fortunate not to have a 9 to 5 in an office; I can organise my schedule to some extent as suits me. I can often use my modelling like yoga to create physical positions which open my body, my chakras in a healing way releasing endorphins and harnessing the power of the monthly changes. I know the business of modelling well enough now that I can manage the people I work with to this end if I need, I mean they trust me to do a good job however suits me a great deal of the time. I often get booked for movement poses allowing even more fluidity of posture.

Final day pose I chose myself

Beyond the physical, I feel more aware of what I need to do at that time of the month. It is an optimum time for making decisions, and dealing with problems. I have more clout then and will be firmer if necessary. As I read, my depressive state lifts. I fall asleep very late, and on waking I discover I am bleeding. It is unexpected – 11 days early and I am normally very regular. Evidently the countryside affected me, well it had just been a full moon. Perhaps I was falling in with the women around me, and being closer to the Earth, to nature and farm animals, without massive buildings to block my connection to the sky, I had adjusted. My sadness now made sense, as it is quite normal just before coming on; and Sunday was much lighter, uplifted.

During my second week I felt in harmony with the students, I found the pose more comfortable, and I began to socialise. I am unused to doing such a long pose, but it does allow for a more regular meditation practice, as well as getting to know the people drawing you.

By week three I was missing the potency of my period and something felt out of whack again. I’d been socialising a bit more than is ideal for me, and became aware of not relating to the majority of the students in a certain way. Their extremely privileged upbringings were showing more, and I suspected that half of them had never had a job, certainly never had to struggle at all in order to be able to follow their dreams. Nothing wrong with that in itself, but it can make for naïveté and ignorance. Discussions on global problems revealed their lack of awareness on some issues that are very prevalent in the news these days, such as rampant paedophilia particularly among the ruling classes. We were now at one of their friend’s houses and there were 3 other English people in the room; only one of them was on the same page as me RE Jimmy Saville. Surely being cocooned in an art studio in France for several years was the reason so that’s understandable. What I really missed were ordinary people, friends who I could just be myself with. Friends with normal everyday problems who weren’t rich but down to Earth; no airs, graces or pretences. I was nevertheless extremely grateful for the experience, their generosity and kindness. They always treated me well, it’s simply a matter of a different social world, and one with different values to mine. I had no sense with some of them that they desired change in the world in any considerable way; it seemed to be fine as it was for them. In my world, well getting to live out my dreams may take a lifetime if that, but it is all about the journey. And I do want a huge amount of change!

To clarify, as of course everything is relative and by many people’s standards, even my own at times I am living the dream, I mean be able to spend most of my time making my own art. In a beautiful environment with few distractions is like icing. I am sure I may get there when the time is right.

Week 4, and I have the cottage to myself as my housemate has returned to the States for a wedding. I just want to lock myself away and write. It’s hunting season and every time I go out for a walk I can’t seem to resist going on private property – all the best looking stretches of grass, paths and woods are roped off or signed ‘chasse garde’. I don’t drive but I do have a sense of adventure. Trouble is when you have gone too far in, pushed through an excessive amount of brambles and waded plenty of marsh to go back, but you find yourself locked in by some very spiky fence, deep ditch, stream or impenetrable hedge. Then you hear the gunshots, the sun is nearly down and your phone is on the blink. If you can make it into an open field will you be confronted by an onslaught of stampeding cows? This is the countryside, and it can be scary.

To break my routine a little, at the weekend I decided to take a trip. Inside my mind as well as to a nearby natural beauty spot. I had one tab in my wallet, and took it in halves so as not to come on too strong. It’s not the most visual stuff but it’s definitely mental, I mean you can feel it lighting up your mind. The sounds and colours around me and inside me pulse more brightly. As it rains I cross a rope into a wood and find a natural seat on some bark, sheltered by a tree above. I look a long time at the mesh of mosses, lichens and climbers. It’s a young wood I discern by the girth of trunks, and I regard the trees growing entwined in pairs, singly or in groups attached at the base.

On the way back as the sun is setting behind me it starts to rain again, a massive rainbow crosses my path in front like a giant magical gate I want to walk through but can never quite reach.

The boundaries shift, the rain eases and it becomes a beginning and an end with no middle. I get distracted from the path and make a break into a field. This is the part where I see the village church steeple ahead and think cross country will be a short cut but get waylaid by all the aforementioned trickiness. I find myself running, trying to get somewhere safe before nightfall, stripping off layers in my heated sweat. Adrenaline pumping I wonder where my acid zen went. A farm vehicle passes me the other side of a hedge and I am unsure whether to hide or shout, but after it’s gone, I realise it must be moving towards the road. There’s not much light but I can make out the electricity cables; I am on the right track. Back on the road I swagger in exhilaration, the neon pub light glints on the horizon. I couldn’t understand before why such a bright sign; that’s before I got lost in the dark on acid.

By the end of my visit I come to the conclusion that some of the tensions I had been experiencing with the students were in fact due to the way the group was managed by the tutor. It is up to her to set the standard, and I did not sense that she was fully aware of what opportunity she missed. By regarding the model with a particular reverence, the artists always gain. It is always a privilege to have the presence of a model, and learning to cooperate with them is a huge bonus for all involved. I’m going to leave it at that as sometimes I think it is better to keep things simple.

I really enjoyed that this trip was long enough to be a whole episode. There was a beginning, middle and end. I went off the path a bit in the middle, but I came back and love the whole story. I tend to look for drama where another would find more harmony perhaps, but nevertheless I found a great deal of love and depth in this time from those around me. I was very blessed to meet every single one of them, they all shared so much beauty and friendly times especially by the fireside.

Chateau des Landes

in Cerqueux sous Passavant

Chateau de Beaurepaire

The amazing first post on the Blog of this site! It is about writing and creating the show, plus some art work from a life modelling session.

The show contains life drawing opportunities.

Live musical accompaniment from The Next Room on percussion and strings.

A Christmas Workshop in Highgate

I thought for Christmas, a light hearted, fun event, more like the workshops we used to run, and without the intensity of the interviews. Creating amusing scenes with a group of models, so that with the focus on some abstract drama, there is a distraction from the possible discomfort of being nude. A bit of wine and some music to ease the flow, and we will be transported from a community centre to a Winter scene from popular fiction or a fairy tale. Also a return to the workshop format, where each participant has a chance I hope to try modelling and drawing, if that balances with the numbers. There is always space for those who only wish to draw, and for women who only wish to model; for men to model or do both however may be more over-subscribed is usually the case.

In the Autumn I reconnected with Camilla Scaramanga who runs life drawing classes at Holly Lodge community centre in Highgate, and after a chat she was keen to collaborate. I saw the centre as an ideal workshop venue for the upcoming season. She liked the ethos of Spirited Bodies, and shares a feminist disposition, but agreed that a mixed event would be most fortuitous now, to introduce the idea to the area and her group.

I have some personal history with Holly Lodge estate where the community centre is – in the next road down, my Mother grew up when she moved to London in 1963. I visited the place often where my Grandmother resided for many years until she died when I was 14. Her flat was the first place where I came across life art; she herself was an artist who sometimes drew, embroidered and sewed nude women in her art. Her walls were decorated with female nudes by various artists and I did not quite understand her appreciation as a girl. I preferred her more abstract pieces, or those featuring animals as was more fitting with my socialisation, which little did I know included some inhibition about the naked body.

My Grandmother was apparently more relaxed, and looking back I realise she was a greater influence than I ever had the chance to fully acknowledge during her life. She embodied a woman who lived for herself as well as for her family. Her life spanned several careers and different socio-economic climates as well as 3 different husbands. She always married for love, and husband number 2 was a communist American. The plan to migrate to his home in Seattle was thwarted by the US government’s House of Unamerican Activities Committee, so they tried in vane to settle in London, Paris, Switzerland, Austria… and finally grew tired of being tracked down and blocked by the FBI. They found sanctuary in East Berlin where they remained for the rest of their marriage and the formative years of their daughters. My Grandmother – Mary Wolfard, worked for the communist party at various stages in the early years, became a journalist while they lived in Europe, notably though sadly lacking evidence she interviewed Picasso on a beach in Spain, worked in radio in East Berlin; and when none of her socialist credentials were recognised when she moved back to London, she decided to become an artist. I have often wished she might have lived a few more years, as an adult I have so much to ask her! I unfortunately don’t have any photographs of her work, though plenty of it is on the walls of my parents’ home. I have a few pieces at my home also, but just now I am away in France modelling for a month in the Loire valley so unable to provide images. This however has reminded me that some record ought to be made.

I haven’t been to Holly Lodge estate at Christmas time in 23 years. I very much look forward to returning.

For more details please see the Events page, and for inquiries relating to Women, please see here.

The Warmth of Women

I am so glad we decided to make a workshop at Sh! This is a special environment where women may explore their sexuality in a totally welcoming space. It is much more than a specialist sex shop; it has an ethos to reach women where they have not been touched before! It is an intimate space downstairs where we created Spirited Bodies magic within this new setting. Surrounded by dildos, vibrators, whips, paddles and lubricants we eased into poses on the pink oval couch that had a fetish feel. One of our artists was very comfortable directing poses due to her frequenting of fetish clubs; I took full advantage. Not that I am shy, but when you can see someone flowing with inspiration for ideal use of props and the angle of each limb, it is a gift for all to let that unfold. Thelma and I just tweaked some of these poses according to our knowledge of modelling, and making allowances for the newness of these models who want to try a novel experience more in some cases than have a realistic experience of life modelling.

Here are some pictures from this unusual workshop which hopefully we will try some time again.

I initiated proceedings with a 6 minute pose; the average pose was 5 minutes

I made suggestions to models about levels and relative openness or closedness of the body, as well as direction of limbs, and as well they found their own postures to fit with the other model’s shape.

dynamic and fun

These fabulous felt-tip pen line drawings are by Lily Lemaire

These cartoonesque felt-tip pen line drawings are by Lily Lemaire

Most participants came primarily to try modelling, and a couple preferred drawing, but they too had a go at posing. They said that it helped them understand the models’ point of view.

Collection of underwear models, or a ridiculous all girl band as one of them observed!

Colourful finale pose

Artist Khadijah likes to use oil pastels I believe, bringing out tone more than line

a pink feather boa connected the models

The costumed model presents different considerations for the artist; clothes draw attention to other features and shapes which the nude does not.

A light touch; it is so warming when participants get into the spirit of friendly posing with each other they have not met before

I thought afterwards, coming into this shop for a class, these women would not be likely to be phased!

Pleasing parallel lines and angles

While life or clothed modelling is not necessarily sexy, it can be. Above all we want to promote women being comfortable and confident in their bodies – sexually and otherwise. Often being at ease with one’s form may enhance sexual confidence, in a truthful way that is not about doing what is expected of us, or what we think we ought to do, but by being ready to sense our own desire and act on it appropriately. Being able to appreciate ourselves allows us to appreciate others more, and be appreciated by others. While the body can be a very sacred place, we easily become disconnected from it in our mentally driven lives. But if we take time to tune into what is going on inside, and learn to move our bodies however we can to enjoy them, we begin to intuit more the language of the body.

As I move from pose to pose, especially but not exclusively the quick (and movement) ones, there is hardly any time in between poses when I am working, to recover the body to its natural equilibrium, to eliminate aches and cramps. My body tells me which limbs to work as I form a new shape; more than the alternation of muscle groups (though that is part of it) its language is subtle and beyond logical. It knows I am performing a sequence, that there is a climax mid-flow of muscular tension when I will pass through a pain barrier and I will surpass artists’ expectations of what I can hold. I push myself because I am like a gymnast aiming for gold, I take my modelling seriously because I love it. It is my gym, my yoga and sometimes my dance. It strengthens my core and warms my very being. It takes me to places of trance, of deep joy and wild amusement I cannot possibly describe to you because it is so in the moment, the way it lights my smile challenging the artists to catch it! Sometimes it is tantra too and it turns me on, and if I were a man I would have to master myself quite heroically not to offend people and risk not being booked and getting a tarnished name. As a woman I can hide it if I want though sometimes my sexuality is discerned – naturally I am being closely observed, and enjoying it. That is even turning me on too; part of a pleasure loop of enjoying myself, being enjoyed by others. But it is not deemed offensive; though it affects me physically this is subtle compared with a man. Instead I am likely to wear a translucent glow and my pheromones reach the artists subliminally (or not). I am sometimes booked because I am sexy, though not in an obvious way, because that is not my style. I mean, it is pleasing to artists consciously or otherwise that I am in tune with my sexuality and I know how to handle it. It makes me confident and that is attractive. It is about my physicality and my nature. I know that life modelling has enhanced this for me. It was always there, a big part of me, being very sexy; but after becoming closeted a few years for social and personal reasons, the liberation afforded by life modelling was strong and so welcome. Now I share that as best I can with others.

Working so closely with my body and my beauty daily, I am acutely in touch with my cycle. I bring different energies at different times to modelling, from the highly charged and emotional, to the light and easy going, to the blatantly desiring, and commanding. Through meditation with energy work (visualising the flow and store of energy within the body) I aim to master better the hormonal drives in me. I have become so aware of my enslavement to a feminine cycle of emotions and desires, that I look to overcome this through deeper analysis, to channel all that powerful energy to put it to best use. Not to move beyond sex, but rather reach a higher source of sexual power, which is ultimately more feminine, unbound by time or undue strain.

I will add that there are many different types of life model and I am just one. Our individuality is the beauty of our game.

One of the women who participated on Thursday evening wrote to us the next morning;

“Thank you for a wonderful evening last night. I thoroughly enjoyed the modelling and the theme was right up my street 🙂 I am absolutely interested in modelling again in the future, I think my preference would be all women groups at least for the first few sessions since I am a newbie! I am not so keen on the drawing side as my skills in drawing are so inadequate!”

Thelma responded, “Thank you 🙂 It was an absolute pleasure and to see you ‘warming up’ to the experience. That is why I like SB – there is an indescribable feeling of fluidity, freedom and togetherness – spirited bodies, like minded embracing ‘the nude’, our nude in a practical, loving, flowing into unconscious way – if that makes sense! I fully understand about the drawing side – when I draw I try and do a ‘small bit’ or part of the pose or just try and get the positions to practice perspective.”

Finally the young woman wrote, “I am exploring and learning so much about myself and the world through my body and its empowering and incredibly freeing. I have always been very comfortable with my body, but unfortunately have been surrounded by a lot of people who aren’t! That can really limit who you are when trying to be sensitive to other people’s hang ups.

I am delighted to have been in the space of women who love and appreciate their bodies as they are :)”

Beautiful

Life Drawing Therapeutic for Older People

Today I modelled at Jackson’s Lane community and arts centre in Highgate, North London. The group is for older people, 55+, but most are in their 70s and 80s.

I was touched when Edna, an 87 year old with a dowager’s stoop revealed her unexpected joy at coming to life drawing. A few years ago her spine had suddenly started to crumble, literally one day she felt it go. Formerly 5′ 6″ I think, she lost several inches and now walks with a frame. She said, “It feels like for the first time since my body became broken, I am facing that fact through examining another body. I can see what’s wrong by looking at another body that is functioning. The doctors never show you, and they don’t look at you nude either, (except when operating) though they have to treat you. No one wants to see your body when you are older; relatives don’t even take photos of me any more.”

Despite this sad tale, Edna expresses a lot of happiness on her smiling face and in her twinkling eyes. She has lived a lot throughout her life so far, working as a psychotherapist, travel writer and latterly a photographer. She used to climb mountains and dance a lot. Fellow artist Sheila suggests it is better not to look back because it may remind us what we have lost; better to look forward as life is always full of surprises!

Liz who runs the class has gotten to know the members quite well, and they feel safe talking about painful feelings sometimes connected with families who are unkind to them. One woman describes her children’s greedy interests in her home… and their lack of sensitivity or consideration for her preferences. She says she enjoys coming to the groups at Jacksons Lane where members are ‘pre-internet; they actually sit down and talk, tell stories.’ Her family dismissively say, ‘why would you want to hang around with that bunch of disabled people?’

Sheila and Edna both clearly have some experience of life drawing, and an artistic sensibility. As I photograph their work, they ask what for, so I explain about Spirited Bodies. I mention the 73 year old woman who had had 2 hips and a knee replaced so only posed sitting down, and did not tell her judgmental family. I also recount the recent appearance of 82 year old Arleen who is a life model (who has had a mastectomy), at our Southbank event. Edna and Sheila are all ears, asking where can they find out more? When will there be an opportunity in North London? It is as if I have poured a drop of hope into their midweek afternoon. The class awaits more funding to be resurrected (today is the last session in a series) and I sincerely hope it is.

my 1st pose is about 10 minutes with a bit of a twist

By the 3rd pose Edna has revealed her excitement at confronting an able bodied form, and how it is helping her understand her condition. I decide a spine view is in order

after a break of some coffee and cake, longer seated poses are decided on. It was very cold today, so I wrapped my coat round my shoulders

the coat becomes part of the pose

I love this luxurious final pose!

Some lovely drawings by a very sweet group; rarely does life modelling feel so much like it could help someone.

Continual Rebirth

The negotiation of the model with her destiny; her liberation from karmic bondage dealt pose by pose, breath by breath, artist by artist and stroke by stroke.

A fastidious group in Dulwich. I am confident, go for a long standing twist. They are 320 degrees around me and some spot infinitesimal changes as more or less breast appears in their sight line, a greater proportion of shoulder etc. Their individual wills vie for the pose they want, they see; so they pull me – my profile a tad this way, my right arm back a bit and more weight on my left hip. I feel like a puppet. So I must be strong. By the time they have finished manipulating I feel like I am on the rack. I want to scream “I make the pose – you deal with it! Otherwise there is a mortuary up the road at the hospital…”

I think, when I can make every session smooth, work each one to be bliss for myself, the nirvana it can be, then I will be ready for the next level. Ready to reincarnate!

Running around to far flung pockets of London all in a day’s work is no stranger to a life model.

My session in Muswell Hill is weekly and in a ‘therapy’ room in a sort of neutral facility. Here I will process years of childhood and adolescent torment in a slot on Tuesday evenings. There are four arbiters of my progress drawing results from my posture. They will experiment with wrong-handed drawing and release their inner artist/child while I writhe on the inside as my inner rebel taunts me.

Getting the bus to freedom after feels like I ought to be heading to Feet First at the Camden Palace. I am just missing a can of Strongbow.

Drawings by Simon Whittle from my recent session at the Mall Galleries (see last post: http://spiritedbodies.com/2012/11/06/performance-preparation/)

This water colour by Graham Wood, also Hesketh Hubbard, Mall Galleries

Esther Bunting