Saturday, February 3, 2007
On Artist's Models
El Caballero just woke me up from a nap with a telephone call. He wanted to make sure I was working on Fat Camille, or blogging, or doing anything other than frittering. I rolled out of bed slowly and started to clear a space on my table and I found a sketchbook I had drawn in recently. I was delighted by the lovely things I found.
On the Model Here
Life drawing should be a collaboration. Sometimes they just sit, and the artist has to compensate with her imagination. That is how fat camille's body was born. I was drawing a bored, overweight model. She was not engaged at all, and for hour after hour, she sat, lumpen, in the middle of the room. Her head got smaller and smaller as her body reached enormous proportions, and soon I was drawing the fat camille body, complete with the featureless face and buns.
These drawings, on the other hand, are of Paul. I have drawn him a couple of times over the years, and one time I actually hired him to come to Flip Flop. He always brings a bag of toys. The contents vary. Sometimes he's got a phone, or a ray gun. This time he had a cigarette, a turban and a toy pistol. He makes faces. He tells stories. I hadn't seen these drawings since I did them, and it was a pleasant surprise to see Paul gracing the pages of my book.
For the last few months, my private student and I have been drawing the trunks of old Muttonham wisteria vines. She is 13, and embraces the dynamic membranes of the twisting plant with unselfconscious gusto. We usually draw together, and this is one of mine.