Richard by Russell
APRES MOI . A tale of depravity and liquorice allsorts, by Edgar Alan Lumb
I have long wished to draw a model with an animated expression, rather than the standard boredom, and last evening at Redbrick, we were treated to an unsettling, silent solo haka by Richard; fighting stance, thrusting chin and bulging, piercing eyes; only the tattoos were absent. Fortunately, I had been warned by Tom and Tony, and had positioned myself out of the direct line of the withering glare, although these wide-angle lenses still caused considerable difficulty in establishing the facial proportions.
Sue, almost within the zone of maximum damage, worried, at the finish that she must have got the eyes wrong, whilst Steven and Sandra, who played on the wings, were taken aback when they viewed the other work, without Richard in position for corroboration. Their profiles tell a different story.
The assembled group fell immediately into its customary, hushed concentration at the start, and there was a Saturday Session feel to the long summer evening, with the Solstice so close. The first hour flew, working hard to establish the composition, proportions and tonal massing of my portrait before the crucial break, at which point one becomes aware of the other work and the thoughts of fellow travellers. That opening hour, alone with your materials and a model is, for me, the tightrope walk where cold sweat and limp relief tug and drive you on to tea and biscuits on the firm ground of the always- empty stage. The second session allows manipulation, refinement, damage limitation or overwork, but the drawing or painting was made in the first hour.
And it proved fortunate that this is the case, as, over the next half hour, the light dwindled and seeped away through the floorboards to the silent cemetery of unloved furniture below. Richard’s eyes remained fixed on distant prey, but a faint wash of acid green highlighted his features as his entire being summoned the storm. It was now dark enough to render colour selection pointless, and the pathetic spotlight, arranged to define his form, swung stiffly toward his massive brain as he bent every volt to his will. I heard Tom croak those dread words, “ the deluge” before any further communication was drowned by the gathering rattle, then hammering of ten thousand tiny fists on the fragile north light of the darkened mill…………
Tune in next week for the concluding episode.
Russell (Artist)
The View from the Other Side by Richard
Modelling for Redbrick is a tough gig. To put it in perspective, a two-and-a-half-hour single pose is the equivalent of staying stock still all the way from Leeds to London on an East Coast train journey, with only a 15-minute walk to the buffet car somewhere near Grantham to offer relief. Also, 'languid' and 'sensuous' don't often work for male models; we're usually (and quite rightly) expected to be a bit more dynamic, as the artistic appeal of 'middle-aged bloke sitting in chair' is limited. So having broken me in gently last year with a swivelling sitting pose and a fairly simple stander I could see a gleam in Tony's eye tonight as he toyed with the idea of suspending me from a beam by one ankle.
Eventually he suggested, more modestly, would I like to stand for two hours with my hands behind my head? Not really, was the honest answer, but the client gets what the client wants. I countered with a suggestion of a stepping pose. He liked that, and could I add a left arm stretch to stop the figure being too 'up and down'? Deal done.
People often ask what the model thinks about during a long pose. It varies - but often, as tonight, I'm counting in my head. Last week I was impersonating Giacometti sculptures for a group in Bradford; five minute highly dynamic poses with a lot of arm-stretchy pointing and falling over. Five minutes requires a count to 300, and just about any amount of discomfort can be endured for a count to 300. Tonight I was counting to 300 twelve times in the first half. I lost count part way through (pigeons can be very distracting) so by the time the DNA in my left heel was seeking to bond with that of the podium in ways never envisaged by nature I asked how we were doing for time. That was the first hour, and Tony called a break. I must have been doing OK as he brought me a chocolate biscuit to go with the very welcome coffee.
Part two of a Redbrick session is always harder than part one. The aches have set in, but surprisingly it wasn't pain in the -er- buttock that I'd expected from the step pose.. The worst bit was holding a hot and sweaty ball of bubble wrap in my left hand. If I've lost the high score on Tom's still-ometer it's because that's a really, really unpleasant sensation. I'll put a cloth over it next time. Quick comfort break after half an hour to restore blood flow - and we're into the home straight. I'm starting to anticipate a hot bath at home, but before that comes the thrill of seeing the work the group has created. It's no exaggeration to say I'm always blown away by the quality of the images, and it's not for the hired help to have a favourite.That said I do like Sandra's portrait. I'm told the paint was applied with a credit card. I love the three-dimensional qualities in Peter and Steven's full-length interpretations, which capture the mood I was trying to convey in the pose. The vivid colour in Sue and Roger S's work is striking, as are the radically different approaches to portraits from Roger H, Russell, Tony and Tom. All the work is amazing. After the rigours of the day job it's always a pleasure to work as a model with creative people. Ideally, I'd like to do about one session a month and there's space in the diary at the moment. If anyone know any other group that could use someone willing to stand, sit or lie still in the name of art (and which doesn't use bubble wrap) please let me know. Otherwise I'll get naked for you again in October.
Richard (Model)
Paintings and drawings by Barry, Ivan, Neil, Peter, Roger H, Roger S, Sandra, Steven, Sue, Tom, Tony and featured work by Russell.
