I was cream crackered, shattered, washed out and weary, my legs felt like jelly and my arms like spaghetti, banjaxed I was a shadow of my former self, a weakling, a mere stripling, my bulk masking the limpness of my soul, the last thing I wanted to do was life drawing.... and yet with my head hammering and hands trembling, legs aflame and ankles aching, I ploughed onwards, first one mark reluctantly followed by another, then a few more, slowly, slowly the flame spluttered into life, energy returned, first frustration and then enthusiasm, I might actually make something of this. Joseph has a twitch and suddenly the metronome of that flickering cheek becomes the rhythm of my hand holding a tremulous brush, stab, dab, mix and parry, the colours are smeared and smudged each piling one on top of the other, cancellations and revisions, how can one cheek hold so many challenges, up and down it flows, in and out the incremental changes model the nervous terrain and gradually a synonym of Joseph appears, it looks right but it's not right so the duel continues cheek to jowl until finally the merciless clock calls time gentleman please and once more I slump absolutely cream crackered.
Hadyn provides a master class in the drawing of an arm in perspective, economy of line and delicate modelling, it's a really lovely drawing in my opinion
Paintings and drawings by Barry, Cathy, Dick, Ian, Isi, Ivan, Mati, Roger, Steven, Sue D-Y, Sue, Tom, Tony and featured artist Hadyn.
There has been a seismic shift in the life room, a velvet revolution and I can pinpoint the exact moment it arrived. Watching the SkyArts, ‘Portrait Artist of the Year Award’ one of the contestants silently slipped out their i-pad and began taking photographs, no word was spoken and then quite shockingly they placed the i-pad next to the canvas and quite simply began to copy the photograph, the live model was now all but redundant. I think there was an audible gasp across the country as artists nationwide witnessed this blatant breach of one of the fundamental pacts between artist and model. The pact can be summarised as, ‘I will remain very still and you will record me to the best of your abilities’. This elemental agreement forged through centuries of art making was now broken, the model had become merely a temporary vehicle, a convenience to be referred to now and again instead of the lodestone forged in the crucible of ferocious looking and passionate recording.
So now we have to think, what of the classics, the squinting and measuring, the thumb assiduously sliding up and down the beleaguered pencil like a deranged slide rule, the huffing and puffing as line after frustrating line was rubbed out to eventually create a glistening patina, a delicate palimpsest of fragile dots, dashes, scribbles and scuffs, marks plotting a unique journey of discovery. Knowledge hard won, the life room used to be the sacred space in which you joined that select club of those who could draw stretching back centuries. You were communing with the ancients, touching the hem of Rembrandt, grasping the sleeve of Michelangelo, walking hand in hand with Leonardo, quite literally in the footsteps of giants. The life room was one of the few places left where past practices barely unchanged for centuries informed the present. When Michelangelo picked up a piece of chalk and drew a reclining man in order study the alignment of muscle, bone and limbs so as to better understand his figure of the Libyan Sybil whilst painting the Sistine Chapel he was using life drawing to inform his practice. When Ingres was looking to inject authenticity into his sensuous tondo of the Turkish Bath he drew from the model incessantly having her twist and contort to realise the full extent of his erotic dreams. For generations the model / artist relationship has been sacrosanct but now there is an insidious interloper, the i-pad.
I feel something of a hypocrite, as the Americans say, I’m conflicted. I love technology, I accept shortcuts, I can see how for some the use of the i-pad has made a tremendous difference, giving confidence, allowing more time for detail, supporting failing eyes, I use binoculars for heaven’s sake, so what’s the difference I hear you say. I suppose it’s the shift in priority from working drawing to finished piece. I always thought the life room was a place of study, an experimental space but now it appears to be drifting towards a place of finished goods. The completed, resolved piece seems to be in the ascendency and I’m worried that experimentation, individuality and downright eccentricity will be downgraded, basically I’m worried we’ll stop learning and having the confidence to express ourselves as individuals.
Let’s hear some opinions on this issue, I want to hear your voice, i-pads in the life room, good or bad and more importantly why? Use the comments link below to share your views.
by Tom Wood
Paintings and drawings by Jane S, Jane, Judi, Sue, Tom, Tony and selected artist Hadyn.
With time and frequent practice I realise I am becoming more familiar and therefore a little less daunted by the various and often conflicting mental and emotional phases which occur in the development of a piece of art work.
I welcome the initial stages. I relish those early and then secondary steps of applying the ground, whether this is just a layer or two of paint or a more complex application of materials. This is when I become friends with the work and enter into a relationship with it. This is where, with any painting or construction, there is the opportunity to forget and not even think about the finished product but see this period as preparation and groundwork. This is the time where there is no pressure and I can be carefree and enjoy the process of stretching the imagination, be as outrageous, unconventional and as crazy as I wish. Pour and splatter it, collage and stick it, obliterate or graffiti it, this is where the subconscious can be liberated and ideas can be formed and articulated by images rather than dialogue. A talkability that can express itself without words.
The previous stage can take as long as I like except in the life drawing sessions which are limited by time yet it is still possible. Then there is an intermediate stage which continues to be relatively stress free. This is where I look at and find meaning in the marks already made and the colours and materials which have been applied and I respond as I would to a conversation or even a dance. This rudimentary piece can provoke many further actions and reactions leading me consequently on to a slowing down and to a steadying and contemplative juncture.
Then, after my art piece and I have travelled so far, comes the really scary bit. I hit the wall. I do not know what direction to take next or what marks to make and the piece is stonewalling me, the relationship is on the rocks. My confidence is seeping away, depression looms and I wonder whatever made me think I could make this work. Previous encounters with this stage really floored me but now I recognise it when it appears. It still affects me but I know it is something to be gone through however long that might take and I have to stick with it. This is a point where after struggling I may need another experienced eye to help make decisions or I may need to make drastic and bold changes under my own steam.
After the wall is conquered the last decision has to be made. When is the work finished? Well I need time and distance for this last.
On Thursday as I strolled around the life drawing session at half time I saw some lovely marks and colours in the partly completed works. Looking at the life drawing gallery this week I wish there were photos at the half time point so that we could each take our time to decide which of our own works had more potential, the half finished or the more finished works.
by Sandra Cowper
Paintings and drawings by Barry, Dick, Haydn, Jane, Mati, Roger (plus finished drawing), Sandra, Sue, Sumi, Tom, Tony and featured artist Alex
Yesterday I arrived at Redbrick dog tired from days of concentrated activity, ticking off urgent items from a seemingly endless list; family, housekeeping, business and artistic demands, no different in nature to everyone else’s agenda for a typical week, but I forget too easily the advancing years and the medical repair work which require careful husbanding of my resources. I had also, against my best intentions, attended Redbrick on Friday for printing, and the lengthy journeys, to and from the east coast, are, in themselves quite tiring. They are also currently infuriating, as the promise of Spring growth is soured by the depressing indictment of litter, from Batley to Snainton. The comic self- aggrandisement of we Yorkshire folk throughout last Summer’s cycling frenzy does not appear to include either the spreading of, or the collection of litter from our trunk road verges. You may be able to assess my mood from the above, and understand why I was happy to find a quiet corner in the life room, hidden behind Tom’s substantial canvas, but it cannot excuse my intemperate reaction to Dick’s innocent lunchtime observation that eating food in a cinema is a legitimate activity in a civilised society. I do not withdraw my remarks, but regret having been quite so beastly to Dick, and offer my sincere apology.
I tell you this, not to salve my conscience, but to illustrate that part of life drawing which struck me most forcibly yesterday; there are numerous influences on a lfe session, many of which can be anticipated and engineered for best results, and many more over which we have no control. The latter influences were weighing heavily as Kay belatedly took her position, and my prospects for a productive day were minimal. The initial pose provided no more than a rear, three quarter view which seemed appropriate to my dark mood, but no, wait a minute. Kay was not comfortable, shifting her position to offer a typical, uplifted profile, whilst draping right shoulder and arm over her chair back. What a transformation; whilst I did not skip around the studio in excitement, I was shocked to find that I had the sort of model, pose, lighting, and proximity which I always envy when viewing great paintings in galleries. If only I had that degree of control, my work would be so much better.
Well, my acrylic and charcoal painting does not quite prove this theory, but, considering the negative portents which had to be overcome, I am surprised to have made a painting which I did not expect at the start. Of course, it isn’t a painting in the sense of Tom’s work and was made too quickly to acquire any intellectual weight, nor did this change in fortune prevent my immoderate outburst at lunch, but the physical tiredness could not be erased, and so I am content, this time, with the “sketch” quality of this piece.
For the most part, the ten paintings produced were typically of the Saturday timescale; well-composed and resolved, although strangely dark considering the bright Spring sunshine which moved the shadows around so that one constantly felt to have misjudged the modelling. Sandra, Jackie and Gerry made the loosest, most expressive images, with Gerry showing again that he is making serious progress in parts. Sue appears to have felt as tired as me but had not had my location advantage and had not really got into her painting, whilst Hadyn transports us to another continent with his enigmatic ladyboy in chiffon colours; an odd view of Kay but a strangely satisfying image. Tony made another intricate and precise pattern of colour and tone, pinning those fleeting shadows across Kay’s features like a CGI still, whilst Dick and Isi made powerful, painterly portraits of the same tough broad from a Damon Runyon novel. Tom complained that he was struggling with gender all afternoon, but his incessant nattering about football and power tools appeared to place him firmly on the boys’ side of the studio. Anyway, tolerance is my new watchword.
Paintings and drawings by Dick, Gerry, Hadyn, Isi, Jackie, Sandra, Sue D-Y, Tom, Tony and featured artist Russell.