The Foundations of Form

Over the last six weeks I spent my Sunday evenings learning about and drawing the figure. We broke down the body into parts, first examining the torso, then legs, followed by the neck and head, arms, and finally hands and feet. The most helpful advice I received was to always begin with the part that grounds the rest of the form (which is usually the torso or pelvis) and all else will more naturally follow. I particularly liked this thinking, quite non-intuitive in my initial drawing practice, but very applicable to a metaphorical sense of self as well.

Probably the most important aspect of figure drawing that we seldom give credit to is, of course, the models! Having briefly worked as one for drawing, painting, and sculpture classes around DC, I can attest to the magical peculiarity of seeing versions of myself spread across various mediums, colors and styles. But to delve deeper into the model experience, I sat down with Babs New, a well seasoned (7 years!) art model and cartoonist, to hear more about their thoughts on what it means and takes to be a model.

I asked Babs to start off our conversation by sharing their most memorable class. They recalled one at Georgetown University, where the students were instructed to focus on one part of the body of their choosing. “There was this corner of three or four students. None of them had looked at each other's work, but all of them independently had just decided to focus on my butt. I thought, ‘Wow. That's really flattering... That it spoke to all four of you.’” While I never experienced that level of flattery in my own modeling work, I still relish in the exhilaration I felt the very first time I modeled: The studio lights were surprisingly warm, caressing my body and calming its nerves. As the sea of twenty pairs of eyes danced up and down and across the highlights on my skin, I could not help but feel tall in a way I knew no height could ever amount to. 

These moments of flattery, or exhilaration, however, do not always come easily. I asked Babs what it takes to be a good model and they replied: Stamina. “I don't think you have to be strong to be a model because I'm not strong at all. But you have to be able to hold a pose and not break it. You shouldn't put yourself in pain and stay in pain, but eventually as a model, you have to figure out what you can and can't do in terms of what's going to be a pose you can't hold, because you can't take breaks every five minutes.”

It is physically demanding and a complete mental challenge to work through those consecutive 20 to 25 minute poses, especially as the body fatigues. To make the time pass, Babs said, “Sometimes I'll think about comics, or writing. I'll look around the room. I like to look at people's outfits. It's nice when someone's in a position where you can see what they're drawing. It's kind of rare because they have to be positioned sideways to see but it's nice to just watch. There's a lot of looking around the room and accidentally sharing awkward eye contact.” When I modeled, I would also try to keep my mind busy by staring at people’s shoes, making up stories in my head about where they might have traveled that day or what might be inferred about the person wearing them.

“When I first started modeling, I didn't consider myself nonbinary… But in some ways, becoming an art model helped me along that path, because I was spending a lot of time away from gender-coded clothing.”

Another part of Bab’s experience I was curious about was how their identity impacted their work as a model, or vice versa.  “When I first started modeling, I didn't consider myself nonbinary… But in some ways, becoming an art model helped me along that path, because I was spending a lot of time away from gender-coded clothing. A lot of people would draw me cute and pretty, which felt nice. I don't usually have strong reactions to seeing a drawing of me, but if there are ones that seem masculine, I think, why did you draw me like that? Is that the vibe I'm giving?”

In our discussion about nonbinary identities, I wondered if or how the act of drawing could potentially help artists, or students change this perception of what is traditionally considered gendered aspects of the body. “It’s complicated because modeling is a very gendered job. We're looking for a female for this class or a male for that class and here's the differences between a male body and a female body. I know what they mean, so I'm not offended by it. As long as they aren't saying “he” when they talk about me I think I'm okay. They might reference me in a biological, scientific definition of a traditional male, but please don’t also add ‘man’ to [to the language] because I don't want to be considered a man.”

While I don’t expect to find a solution to the gender binary overnight, I have found some release from it within my own practice. By reducing the figure to simple geometric shapes, lines and proportions, every body begins the same for me: an oval for the chest and a box for the pelvis. These two shapes serve as the foundation to all bodies regardless of anatomy, or even weight or height for that matter: And there’s really nothing inherently gendered about that… If only unpacking social/cultural constructs could be this simple!

But beyond the ovals and boxes, in reality bodies are so complex and layered, figuratively and literally. Babs shared their complex relationship to their body throughout the years. “I was very shy and introverted and part of that shyness was about my body. I didn't like a lot of stuff about me. Before [modeling] I didn't like people seeing parts of me. If I went swimming, I'd feel awkward. I wouldn't let people see my feet, because I used to think they were grotesque.” I was so curious to learn how Babs  then pushed themself to start modeling fully nude. “At some point I just started doing different things like swim lessons because I had to get changed in the locker room and instead of keeping a towel on I just changed. I did a lot of little things like that leading up to modeling. In art school I remember thinking, I couldn’t ever do that. And then I thought, what if I try it? It's either going to help a lot or it's going to hurt a lot.”

“Now I'm maybe too comfortable. It's just another outfit.” 

And it ended up helping them. A lot: “The first time I posed was for a close friend in Pittsburgh. I posed in my underwear and after we did that, we organized a couple of figure drawing nights at their apartment where they invited a bunch of their artist friends. And that's when I posed nude for the first time. And I really blushed, I was completely red. But it only lasted the first few minutes. I was surprised how okay I felt after a minute. Now I'm maybe too comfortable. It's just another outfit.” 

Thinking about Bab’s journey from before modeling to where they are now, I wanted to end our conversation talking about courage. I had to commend them for finding the courage to face their insecurities in what I considered to be an aggressively vulnerable approach . Babs replied: “Obviously, it takes a certain little courage to pull that Band Aid off, but I guess there's a difference between courage and confidence. It's not that I was confident. I imagine a lot of models get into it because they feel confident. I was the opposite: I got into modeling and became confident. It's kind of crazy just how doing something once is enough to know you can do it. So I wouldn't even say it's courage after that. It was only courage the first time. And it was the small steps I'd taken that helped prepare me for that moment.”

Reflecting on my discussion with Babs as well as my continued practice drawing the body, I am oddly comforted by the fact that everything can boil down to a simple foundation: Whether it’s taking the first small steps to face our fears, or breaking down our humanness into basic shapes, it really is the sum of our parts that form the essence of who we are.

 

You can read more about Bab’s experience through their comics on body issues and being an art model:


From the notebook

While not actually in a notebook but on a pad of newsprint, it only feels appropriate to share some of the triumphs and tragedies from my figure drawing class. 

This is what happens when my eyes lose their path on the body. Nothing connects, nothing aligns and despite my incessant adjustments, there is never a path back to clarity. I don’t know how else to describe the frustration other than an itchy aggravation. 

WIP

The Mona Lisa is taking a back seat for now while I focus on other things:

For one, I’ve started another commission. The client came to me with a clear idea and one key word: spaghetti. I thought, how on earth… But I found traditional Italian patterns, which will hold the ingredients of spaghetti (garlic, basil, tomatoes, etc) in an energetic way rather than splatting noodle shapes across the background, which was my initial and unfortunate brainstorm.

Upcoming!

September 4, 5-10pm at Chinatown Park (Mass. Ave. NW between 6th and 5th St NW)

Extended Play DIY dance party DJ collective spins beats along a marketplace curated by SAMASAMA, celebrating BIPOC creatives.

 

September 11, 7pm - midnight at Hook Hall (3400 Georgia Ave NW)

Come experience one of the largest pop-up art movements to hit North America over the past decade. Celebrate +15 years serving FREE PANCAKES and introducing you to some of the nation's leading emerging artists.

 

September 12, 48-pm at Alethia Tanner Park (227 Harry Thomas Way NE)

From murals to music, Color Jam is the grand finale to the annual NoMa in Color Mural Festival and this year’s best Art All Night pre-game.

 

September 13, 4-7pm

Join Lower Georgia Avenue Main Street and District Bridges for Lower Georgia Avenue DC Art All Night! We are so excited to bring this beloved event to the neighborhood with activities including Plein Air painting demonstrations spread throughout.

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