Upon impossibility

 

As with Andrew Marvell's poem The Definition of Love, capturing the model as she turns from one position to another, verges upon impossibility. 

It has taken me a lifetime to say what I have to say in that never to be repeated split second with the minimum of lines and washes.

I can't remember which of my models was the subject of the painting that illustrates this post and my models are usually equally at a lose in identifying themselves in my work. But that in itself speaks of the universal and timeless beauty of the nude. Andrew Marvell's poem dates from the 17th century; my painting from the 21st.

The essence of romance

 Annabelle reclining.

The essence of romance is uncertainty. (Oscar Wilde)

And that relates to the uncertainty of painting from the live model. The chances of both model and artist simultaneously reaching a creative high are a thousand to one. But when it happens nothing can compare. In all the years that Annabelle was my model, she never once failed to inspire. 

Whereas the last painting on my previous post was a failure, my painting of Annabelle goes someway towards capturing the profound beauty of the nude.

Frustrated first sittings

The model's nervousness at her first sitting.

Charcoal on faded newsprint (17" x 13")

All first sittings are memorable, some for the promise of inspirational sessions to come and others for shear frustration. Recently, I have had more than my fair share of the latter. 

A first sitting lasts for one hour but only 15 minutes of that time is spent painting or sketching from the model. The remainder is spent explaining how I work with a model and the message that I hope to convey through my paintings. 

The opening drawing is of a young lady I had known for years, first as a student at my life classes. I was surprised when she expressed an interest in modelling. At my classes she had always appeared embarrassed at even viewing the nude figure. Other than that, she had all the attributes I need in a model: a lithe figure and natural charms. But on the day she arrived for her first sitting nervousness had crept in and although I did manage the one brief sketch, it was clear that modelling was definitely not her forte. 

At my most recent attempt at painting a first sitting, it was not the model's nerves but the frustration of cancellations and a late arrival that threw me. My muse went out of the door and laughed at my painful attempt to capture the subtleties of the nude. The model also laughed, she thought my painting was an hilarious joke. 

The painting the model thought was an hilarious joke. Watercolour (15" x 21")

Perhaps in her mind my model was echoing Yvette Guilbert’s response to a painting Toulouse-Lautrec had made of the cabaret performer: “You horrible little man”. But maybe I should be flattered that my work excited ridicule and hilarity, for after all this was the fate of the artists from past that I admire. 

Yvette Guilbert by Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901)

First sittings

Alice. 1st Sitting 1989

I could mount an entire exhibition of the sketches and paintings I've made of my models at their first sitting. The first sitting is the artist's first perception of the model and the model's first perception of the artist. First impressions are important, and for that reason I spend more time preparing for first sittings than I do for regular sittings. 

Alice's first sitting led to her working as my studio assistant for a year. That year marked a turning point. Throughout the 1980's my work had been at an impasse. With Alice's gentle support I was able to create anew.  

The only first sittings that disappoint are the ones where the model fails to show up, as happened to me yesterday.

When viewed through a different lens

 

Today's picture is the first painting that I've photographed with my "new" camera. I say "new" whereas actually it's a fifteen year old Olympus E -500 SLR. It has interchangeable lenses and a host of settings that I have yet to get used to. 

The background to my figure paintings is the white of the watercolour paper, and this is something that gives digital cameras a problem. Fortunately the Olympus E -500 SLR has the means of getting around this - when I've figured out how to set its sophisticated "white balance" features.  

With lenses and accessories, it is not the camera you would want to carry on a twenty-mile hike - I took my son along to help me carry it home from the shipping company - but on a tripod in the studio it's size and weight is not a problem. 

Since writing this post I've been able to delve deeper into the camera's 216 page Users Manual. The picture below is of a painting from eight years ago. It has been restored since suffering water damage in the hurricane. I photographed today without having to remove it from its frame. The challenge it to avoid reflections.

Jessica reading

 

My Olympus E - 500 SLR