The Model

An artist's model is a different thing from a fashion model.
A different thing! Have you objected to my objectifying the poor creature, naked in front of one person or a classroom of people? Not always naked, of course. Sometimes in full regalia of costume and jewelry and divinely resting on a settee. Notoriously, however, the model is known for being naked.

I used to sit for an artist who had long since married a very religious woman. She had decided that he could no longer draw or paint from the nude female form. His portraits were perfect depictions of statuesque elegance. The painstaking detail with which he painted kept everything visible, the shades in each strand of hair, the shadows as the clothing rippled attire, everything but personality was presented. We all wondered what she must fear since we took for granted that the model's nudity was impersonal.

In a figure drawing group, the model is a living object. At least in my experience. I may pose from every angle but when the timer announces the break, I put on my robe. I do not wear it because I am cold; there are usually heaters in the cooler months. In the summer I wear a lighter robe, but nonetheless wear one. The reason being that as I chat over a cup of tea with the artists, I suddenly appear as a person and I am disinclined to have a conversation about Milton, even Milton, in the nude. Once I am posing again, the conversation may continue, but my mind, expressing assorted opinions, is separate from the naked body that is being drawn or painted.

This separation of the mind and body is one of the reasons I enjoyed modeling when I was in college. Deeply engaged in my philosophy studies, busy running various school activities, the moments of quiet as pencils scratched across the drawing boards allowed me to still myself. Later, when I became interested in meditation, I never found the stillness sitting that I uncovered during those poses. I understood even better why more advanced meditative techniques would require certain postures to achieve particular states of mind.

In a one minute pose there is not time to capture the "spirit" of the person. Nor is that the intention. Rather the shape of the arm, the leg, the angle of the head must be quickly sketched as a brief warm-up. Building to a fifteen minute pose, the body of the model offers a view of a human anatomy. If he is grimacing, it is not his pain that is being portrayed, but rather the form of a figure grimacing that is being presented. If I thought it was me, I might be a little upset at the ugly renditions I see as I walk through the room later. Even when I sit for a portrait that takes months, as a model, I am rarely what is being painted. I am an actress, in a sense, pretending to be a fine lady in an elegant green hat or a mythic character fallen from the moon.

A Penny or Two

When I was modeling in Santa Fe, I had the great joy of working with Lyndall Bass. I was recently in contact with her and discovered that she won the design contest for the new penny! That is right. Look in your wallets and pockets and her design is there. The prize is a two-sided joy. On one hand, she worried, she might forever be known as the penny lady. On the other hand, it provided her with the ease to work on her own pictures.

Lyndall is mostly known for her flowers and still-life pieces, but when I was working with her she was working on a series of mythic women. We used to call me the moon-faced girl because any photographs she took to use when I was not sitting made me look so flat, like some chubby lady squashed in the moon. She would take them nonetheless. Sometimes there was something she could work from. Sometimes, I returned later that week or the following week to find out she hadn't been able to do anything and we could not converse because she had to keep working on my chin.

I really enjoyed working with Lyndall because though we were sometimes silent, we also talked about our families, mythology, the steps to figuring out life. One of the joys in working with someone over several sittings is the relationship that develops. I am glad that Lyndall won the penny contest, but mostly because now she can do her own work without worrying about scrounging for pennies.