Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Quiet, Model Posing



 

Alan Beeton, Artist’s Model Marguerite Kelsey, 1936, Private Collection

Not all artists’ models are created equal.  Those who work at art schools and sketch groups don’t need any prior modeling experience to get a job.  They just have to be willing to disrobe and hold a pose, without moving, for up to 25 minutes at a time in front of a group of rapt artists who consider sketching from the live model an enjoyable and necessary part of their work routine.

The perfect-body police are not allowed in the inner sanctum to muddy the waters for applicants.  Come one, come all, fat or thin, short or tall, beautiful or plain, handsome or ugly, perfectly proportioned or not even a bit--it doesn’t matter to us one whit.  Just be able to inspire us with your posing attributes and you will be accepted gratefully into this slightly offbeat, truly egalitarian alliance of models and artists.  That alone is something to shout about in this culture of ours, which is so insanely obsessed with physical appearance.

Holding a pose for extended periods of time, though, is not easy by any means.  Nor is the ability to maneuver one’s body into artistic poses.  Because of their own disciplined training, dancers and actors tend to make very good models.  Student artists, who know what poses artists like to draw, are generally good at modeling, as well.  Some neophyte models are naturals, and it’s wonderful to see a shy, awkward, novice become an inspiring model in just a few short months.

Other models never inspire artists with their poses no matter how many years they get paid to do it.  The inner radiance of a human soul emanating from the best artists’ models is inexplicably missing.  But the art schools have charitable hearts for the lifeblood of their existence, so they keep booking some of these models, who are dependable and often find it hard to get other work to help pay their bills.

I often speculate that there are deeper issues beyond the modest paycheck that motivate certain people to pose nude for artists.  Some models seem extremely shy about their work, while others are just the opposite.  I’ve drawn and painted quite a number of models, male and female, who are very comfortable “in their own skin,” unlike, I might add, many of the artists who depend on them.  Some male models probably take to the posing stand because they enjoy showing off their muscular physiques.  I’ve also drawn models who take on the work for a few sessions just for the unique experience, including one well-known woman author, who was an excellent model, as a matter of fact.  Whatever the reasons may be, artists who want to continue the ancient tradition of drawing and painting the “human form divine” are forever in debt to our models, without whom we would be forced to copy photographs or concentrate solely on still life and landscape painting.

Today’s artists’ models usually do this work for only a few years to help pay for their college tuition or the rent while they pursue their own passion, be it in dance, theater or some other career.   Modeling jobs are available seven days a week, morning, noon and night, offering plenty of opportunities for models to continue to audition, rehearse, perform and attend college classes.  And popular models are able to get quite a bit of private modeling work from artists who can afford their hourly fees of $20 and up for the many hours it takes to complete a painting or sculpture from life.

Not many artists’ models view the work as a lifelong pursuit, but some ex-dancers, under-employed actors and others take up modeling again later in life as a way to earn extra income. 


 

John Everett Millais, “Ophelia,” Artist’s Model Elizabeth Siddal, 1851
Tate Britain, London
Things were a bit different for the profession in former days.  Artists’ models were divided into two classes – those who worked at the art schools and those who worked only privately for successful society and academic artists, who often shared their favorite models with their fellow artists. The Pre-Raphaelites immediately come to mind.  Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal (1829-1862), for example, was a red-haired model, poet and artist who was painted and drawn extensively by the Brotherhood and became something of a celebrity herself, like a number of other models favored by famous artists throughout history.

In her book titled “Painted Ladies,” Muriel Segal gives a witty but irreverent account of famous models for famous artists, beginning with Phryne, the model for many Venuses in 4th Century B.C. Athens, and ending with Kiki, the once famous “Venus of Montparnasse,” who died in squalor in 1953 at the age of 51.  An interesting first-person account of modeling for artists appears in “The Naked Civil Servant,” the autobiography of Quentin Crisp, who worked for three decades as an artist’s model in England before gaining fame as a writer, actor and raconteur.

One possible explanation for this caste system in 19th and mid-20th Century England and France is there were a lot of famous portrait and figurative painters and sculptors whose lives were considered so interesting that the newspapers wrote stories about them and, sometimes, the models they favored.  The newspapers no longer write about figurative artists, other than Lucien Freud, who died two years ago at the age of 88.

By the way, we all know that there is quite a gender gap in this business of modeling for artists.  The model as muse is a woman.  There are a lot of drawn, painted and sculpted images of men, but they have patiently flexed their muscles for artists in relative obscurity, the self-promoting Quentin Crisp notwithstanding.  It has been my observation that 99 percent of the artists who attend the sketch groups, both men and women, prefer drawing female models.  It’s a bit strange, because the male nude is the centerpiece of many of the Old Master paintings we all revere.  A retired illustrator I knew would walk out of one sketch room at The Art Students League to try his luck in another as soon as a male model walked in.  “I never sold a drawing of a male nude,” Sol would explain defensively.  His drawings always made me laugh, because whether the model was fat or thin, she ended up on his sketch pad looking like an amply proportioned Barbie Doll.


Meredith Frampton, Artist’s Model Marguerite Kelsey, 1928, Tate Modern
One of the very last of the red-hot muses was Marguerite Kelsey (1909-1995), who was very much in demand in London during the 1920s and 1930s.  She would be booked months in advance before the important art shows at the Royal Academy and the Royal Portrait Society.  A former dancer, she could apparently hold her pose for up to four hours at a stretch!  “We’re going to make you tops,” Sargent reportedly said upon first meeting her, telling his friends at his club later that day, “I’ve just met a famous model.”  She became a celebrity model due to her “gracious form,” as one artist said.

Kelsey first began posing at the age of 15, and her enthusiasm for the bohemian art world she was so much a part of remained undiminished throughout her long life, according to those who knew her.  Richard Ormond, Sargent’s biographer, wrote that: “Kelsey's life as a model was a demanding one, requiring her to pose for hours on end in chilly studios, in return for a pittance, but the art world had been her life and she would do anything for those artists for whom she had given her devotion. She was a romantic, a woman of rare warmth and simplicity, who even in old age retained that immutable quality of beauty and radiance which had inspired (Meredith) Frampton and (Alan) Beeton,” both of whom created gorgeous paintings of Kelsey.

Kelsey preferred working with older male artists like Frampton and Beeton.  “She was a friend and confidante of these older painters, with whom she conducted intense, but platonic relationships,” Ormond wrote in the London newspaper, “The Independent.”  But she did eventually marry one of the many artists who painted her.  It was well-known that there were numerous liaisons between successful older male artists and their young models in years gone by.

Kelsey was once quoted as saying: “Alan Beeton was my god.  I was the only model he ever really used – he painted me for ten years, and educated me at the same time.  He taught me how to read and write, took me through the classics, showed me how to use a knife and fork in restaurants.  I owe him everything.”

She continued to attract artists as a model in old age, posing for a seated, full length painting by Peter Edwards that won a top prize in 1994 at the National Portrait Gallery competition in London. 
 
The abbreviated information about her modeling career is gleaned from Ormond’s newspaper obituary and a fascinating exhibition catalogue titled, “The Artist’s Model, from Etty to Spencer,” co-written by Martin Postle and William Vaughn, which traces the profession in England from the early 19th Century to the late 1930s.

The late Aviva, a Popular NYC Artist's Model
for Many Years
Vaughn writes that models like Kelsey “had a strong sense of their own status.  Kelsey took pains to stress the difference between such stars as herself” and what she referred to as “the art school model.”  That distinction no longer exists.  And generally speaking, artists’ models of today, like the artists who paint them, are well off the radar of public opinion, for better or for worse.