Navel-gazing

For the past couple of days I’ve resisted writing a blog post about the latest stunt at the Museum of Modern Art. The “performance piece” can be summed up thusly; Tilda Swinton sleeping in a box. You all know the actress Tilda Swinton? Well it’s her. Clothed. Sleeping in a box. At this point I should mention that the admission fee for MoMA is $25. The title of this piece is “The Maybe”, as in “maybe I can find something better to do with my time and money”.

If you’re curious to see images of Tilda sleeping in the box please click on the above link, or check out the ample coverage of this “event” in a Google News search, because I really don’t want to post them here on sweet old Museworthy. After all, this is an ART blog. <— burn!

So without embarking on a rant-like objection to this kind of gimmickry into which the contemporary art scene has sunk, or going into a lengthy jeremiad about the cynicism and soullessness that has crept into the art world in general, I’ll just say that Tilda’s shtick bothers people if only because it embodies the worst kind of navel-gazing. Since it’s Tilda’s piece, she could have hired a model or any other interesting individual to take a nap in a box. But she decided to do it herself, which makes it very difficult to dispute the sheer self-regard that seems to lie at the root of this piece. And extreme self-regard, to me, is just an inherently boring and off-putting quality. That’s all I’m saying. Tilda can certainly do whatever she wants, and no one is being forced to attend her “performance”.

I may be a professional artist’s model but it’s doubtful anyone would pay to see me sleep in a box, although they have seen me sleep on the modeling platform at Spring Studio. Just a couple of times And I too engage in a lot of navel-gazing in my work, but in the literal sense. So allow me to share the art model’s version of navel-gazing, brought to us by two of my favorite artists who also happen to be very dear friends.

My torso by Daniel Maidman:

Me reclining, by Fred Hatt:

Bones, Flesh, and Harmony

Those who participate in typical life drawing classes do not generally obsess about things like the latissimus dorsi (back muscle) or the anterior superior spine (bone in the pelvis). Artistic anatomy classes, which are required in most graduate art programs, involve intensive, meticulous study of the musculature and skeletal structure of the human body. The MFA students at the New York Academy of Art are fortunate to have a superb instructor like Robert Armetta, with whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with for some time now.

Posing for anatomy is a different experience for the model as well. While students make good use of classroom skeletons and écorché casts for bone and muscle observation, the model is there to exhibit, and sometimes actively demonstrate, those same bones, muscles, and connectors as they appear in a living, breathing life subject. We’re often asked by instructors to flex, twist, rotate, or create resistance so as to emphasize a particular muscle or bony landmark. For the long pose, students will draw on their paper the model as skeleton alongside the full figure. Teachers and students alike benefit greatly when their anatomy model is a seasoned professional, one who is comfortable being pointed at at close range, and who doesn’t cringe when the term “fatty tissue” is uttered during a demo. Fatty tissue???? NOOOOOO!!!!! Just kidding

Here I am in Robert’s class posing alongside my anatomy buddies - écorché cast on the far left for muscles, skeleton (who lost his head!) in the middle for bones, and the sum total of it all, yours truly, with bones, muscles, skin, a messy hair bun, the whole shebang:

It was a marvelous experience posing for this class of first year students at the Academy. The focus and dedication they displayed was impressive, and I was honored to be their model over the past several weeks. They’re well on their way. Keep up the good work guys!

Lovely drawing from the class by Chusit Wijarnjoragij:

Glory to the Figure

In case I wasn’t clear enough in my previous post about preferring figure modeling to portrait modeling, I have some images that might express it more effectively than any words. I had written about the frustration I sometimes feel when I’m confined to sitting in a chair, clothed, when my natural impulse is to pose with my entire body and demonstrate a wider range of movement. From shoulders to hips, from head to feet, from arms to legs, the human figure is ready, willing, and able to show off its “intelligent design”. We can twist and turn, rotate and swivel, extend and contract, balance and shift our weight around, and put on a glorious show that merges both our physicality and our humanity. Muscles allow us to move, bones hold us together, and the whole sublime package provides a timeless source of inspiration to artists throughout history.

Mark Tennant is one of those artists. Recently, I had the great pleasure of posing for him privately. Mark has drawn me many times at Spring Studio, and I have modeled for his class at the New York Academy of Art. Our private collaboration was a marvelous extension of our professional relationship. Mark was kind enough to send along these images of our session together. You can follow Mark’s progress on these and his other works on his Facebook page. Long live the figure!

 

Weekend Blah

You know you’re officially old when you’re falling asleep at 9:30 on a Saturday night. Too tired to go out, too tired to socialize, even too tired to read. I remember when I had unquenchable energy, mental clarity, and often went dancing. Dancing? Do people go dancing anymore? Eh whatever. I’m really out of it and just wanted to say hi. Man, is this the lamest Museworthy post ever? I think so. Why am I even writing this? I’m barely lucid and my chances of offering anything of interest is exactly zero. Sorry guys.

Maybe I can jazz things up a bit with some art. It’s my only hope to salvage this pointless post. This is Sleeping Nude with a Red Shawl, by Zinaida Serebriakova:

De-Cocooning

So now that 2013 has arrived and the “holiday season” as we call it is officially over, my heavenly homey existence of cocooned contentment is also, sadly, over. You’re all wondering, “What the hell is she talking about?” I’m referring to the manner in which I spent my holiday break. It involved staying in Queens and avoiding going into Manhattan, wallowing in the cozy warmth and intimate charm of my house, sleeping late, cooking, writing, wearing sweatpants, taking indulgently long showers, poring over the magnificent art book I got for Christmas, and rarely venturing beyond my neighborhood in northeast Queens. It’s not as if I lived like a lonely hermit, mind you. I spoke to my family every day and, best of all, enjoyed the beautiful companionship of the man I love. It was all quite glorious.

But alas, the art model’s layabout paradise cannot go on forever. Art schools are opening for the spring term and I must crawl out of my snug cocoon and return to work, like most folks already have. The actual modeling, of course, is something I look forward to and have genuinely missed. What I haven’t missed is the commuting – the “schlepping” as we say in NYC – from Queens to Manhattan. The train ride, then the subway rides, then the buses, then the teeming crowds, the harassers, the sneezers, the cell phone yakkers, the panhandlers, the oglers, the  . . . well you get the idea. I’m going to miss the cocoon! I am a Cancer, and we are homebodies at heart. We like to feel sheltered and safe. And protected. And loved.

On the positive side, my returning to work means more drawings and modeling adventures, more blog post ideas and art topics and tales of the city. Much ahead for Museworthy! That’s a promise. I hope you all stick around for more discussion and fun in 2013. Happy New Year everyone. Let’s make it a great one

The Mirror, by Giovanni Zangrando:

Becoming Found

Greetings friends. I hope this blog post finds you well, at peace, and still joyful from the holiday season. Monday night, I attended Christmas Eve services at St. Bartholomew’s Episcopal Church on Manhattan’s east side. Ten years ago my presence at that church, or any church, would have been highly improbable. On several occasions on this blog and in my other writings, I have alluded to, even discussed a bit, the “dark” stage of my life; my struggles with depression and anxiety, my exasperating inability to find peace and personal fulfillment, and my difficulty coping with losses and emotional pain.

As I walked toward St. Bart’s on that chilly, rainy night, my mind, my soul – my entire being – became swelled with thoughts; thoughts of how my life’s journey has unfolded over my 44 years, where I’ve been, where I am now, and where I might be going. I thought also of the grave plight of my fellow Christians in the Middle East and how the Western world is willfully turning a blind eye to their persecution. I thought of people everywhere; the ambitious, the destitute, the brave, and the misguided.  My heart began to ache, and part of me wanted to fall to my knees and kiss the pavement of Park Avenue.

Inside St. Bart’s, a magnificent structure of Byzantine architecture, the pews were filled to capacity with New Yorkers who came to worship. Our voices and the voices of choir members rang out like heavenly bells as we sang “O Come All Ye Faithful”, and the Rev. Buddy Stallings delivered a poignant sermon about hope and eternal light, about being lost and becoming found, and how even though we don’t always seek God, he always seeks us.

I never paid much mind to the notion of being “found” after having been lost, certainly not in the religious Christian sense. But it came to me, gradually, over the past several years. In fact, it snuck up on me and wove its way into my life in the most quiet, discreet way imaginable until I finally became aware of its presence and decided to pay attention. Consider it the slowest, steadiest blindside to ever take place.

Gouache sketch of me by Jonathan, created at Spring Studio:

For those who care to listen for a brief eleven minutes, here is Rev. Buddy Stallings’ Christmas Eve sermon, aptly titled “Forever Light”. And I invite all of you to share in the comments any creation – book excerpt, sermon, poem, article, work of art, piece of music – that holds for you the answers to your spiritual questions, gives you hope, or best reveals your understanding of life’s purpose. I’d be honored to read your contributions.

Abundant blessings to each and every one of you. Let’s meet here one more time before 2012 comes to an end. See you Monday, friends!

Love Sonnet LXXIX

by Pablo Neruda

By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two
together in their sleep will defeat the darkness
like a double drum in the forest, pounding
against the thick wall of wet leaves.

Night travel: black flame of sleep
that cuts the threads of earthly orbs,
punctual as a headlong train that pulls
cold stone and shadow, endlessly.

Because of this, Love, tie me to a purer motion,
to the constancy that beats in your chest
with the wings of a submerged swan,

So that our sleep might reply to the sky’s
questioning stars with a single key,
with a single door the shadows had closed.

Embrace, Egon Schiele, 1917

Model Derangement Syndrome

Hi there Museworthy friends. Hope you all had a splendid week. Before I get to model derangement syndrome I’d like to share my congratulations and tremendous happiness for my friend Daniel Maidman. Daniel currently has a solo art show at Dacia Gallery where his stunning “Blue Leah” series is on display. I attended the opening last night and it was fantastic. The best opening I’ve ever been to and I’m not just saying that because Daniel is my pal. It really was the best

As for model derangement syndrome, I have entered the 2 – 3 week phase of overbooked, overworked, jammed, no day off, mid-semester modeling mania that leaves me pretty much incapacitated when it’s all finished. Honestly, when I look at my calender book and see all the jobs written in back-to-back and on top of each other,  in all different locations, I feel a little frightened. I wonder “How the hell am I gonna do all this?”

I will try to post on the blog if I can but if I don’t, don’t worry. I’m not dead, I’m just in the midst of good old model derangement syndrome. Be well gang!

Photo by Fred Hatt

Silence Under Spring Street

It has long been my favorite place to model. Unique, authentic, true to the spirit of life drawing, Spring Studio is a little hidden gem in a blustering giant of a city. I use the word “hidden” not to suggest that it’s unknown. It’s very well-known in the New York art community. It is hidden in that it resides underground, literally in a basement space. Just feet from the Spring Street stop on the Lexington line subway, artists and models descend a staircase to enter the studio. Except in the very cold weather, the street door is always left open to allow air circulation. It also, for better or worse, allows for the myriad sounds of the city to travel down into our special space. For an operation that demands absolute quiet when model sessions are in progress – cell phones must be turned off, iPod volumes kept low, no talking, no disruptions – this is a very funny paradox.

I can’t emphasize enough how close the studio is to the street, its existence in a basement notwithstanding. The streets of SoHo are small, too small really to handle the traffic and activity. The area is crammed, almost claustrophobic at times. During the day, at our busy corner of Spring and Lafayette, the open street door means blaring taxi horns, chattering shoppers, revving motorcyclists, delivery trucks unloading, banging, clanging, and deafening jackhammers from the endless – and I do mean endless – construction taking place throughout the city. And then there’s the subway itself, which rumbles basically right alongside us. The model on the platform can feel the vibrations mid-pose. And at night, especially on Thursdays through Saturdays, the open door sends down the voices of revelers, tourists, and loitering smokers, often after enjoying a libation or two at the many so-called “hotspots” of the trendy nabe. Sometimes it’s laughter, sometimes it’s snippets of a conversation, sometimes it’s even a lovers’ quarrel.

Remember folks, this is New York City. This town bellows out more noises – some recognizable, some not – than you can imagine. Yet still, amid all the urban cacophony, life drawing persists in Spring Studio, the artists’ eyes and hands remain focused, blissfully impervious. They are undisturbed, unruffled. Noise? What noise? There is “silence” under Spring Street

Created at Spring Studio on Thursday morning, these are my quick poses, my movements and gestures captured in pastel and conte by the delicate, effortless hand of Bob Palevitz:

Happy 5th Birthday Museworthy!!

It’s been five years friends. Five years of Museworthy. I’m actually at a loss for words, which as most of you know is quite rare for me! I could repeat what I’ve said every year on these birthday posts; that I never expected this blog to have such longevity, or that it would accumulate over 150 subscribers, and receive 1,000 visitors a day from all around the globe. Or that I’d have enough topics to discuss, artwork and anecdotes to share, and spirited, illuminating discussions in the comments. All these things amaze me still, after five splendid years.

I was thinking about last year’s post and the concerns I raised about continuing to model on a full time basis. But after a fantastic, very busy year of work – and by some miracle NOT having fallen apart physically which was my fear – I look back and wonder, what the hell was I thinking? Of course I will continue art modeling! And blogging. You guys can’t get rid of me just yet

So Fred Hatt and I collaborated again in his studio and have decided on an image to share for Museworthy’s fifth. A rose-tinted photograph to match my rose-colored glasses perhaps? No. Rose-colored glasses imply unrealistic optimism. I think my optimism level is perfectly real and true and delusion-free. I am a thankful, fortunate gal.

Our music this year comes courtesy of the Beatles. Not one of their more famous songs, but a good one, recorded on the very brink of their breakup. Listen with me to “I’ve Got a Feeling”. John Lennon comes in at 2:05 and sounds adorable. Peace, love, and infinite gratitude to all of you in the Museworthy world . Thanks for reading, supporting, and sustaining this artistic little corner of the Internet.

Your muse,
Claudia  xxoo

Naked in New Hope

Is Pennsylvania in da house??!! Why yes it is, and it’s naked baby! I received a delightful email from my artist friend Tai Lin in which he shared a bit of terrific news. His painting of me, titled Awakening, is among the works on view in the 6th Annual “Naked in New Hope” art exhibition! The group show at New Hope Sidetracks Art Gallery includes local artists from Bucks County and artists from all across the nation. A wide range of media are represented, from oils and acrylics to pencil and charcoal to etchings, pastel, watercolor, sculpture, and collage.

This is Tai’s painting of me. Created a few years ago at the National Academy in Sharon Sprung’s class, I remember it like it was yesterday. In fact, I own the small study that Tai did as practice for his final piece. It hangs on my living room wall and inspires compliments from everyone who enters.

Awakening by Tai Lin:

And a fellow WordPress blogger, artist Chris Carter, will also be exhibiting in the show. See Chris’ blog entry here.

“Naked in New Hope” opens Saturday night, September 15th with a gala reception and runs through November 3rd. Here’s the listing in Fine Art America. Congratulations Tai! So proud of you, friend

Days in the Atelier

Greetings on a Sunday evening! I hope this blog post finds you well. My most substantial art modeling job of the summer has come to an end – five weeks posing for Robert Armetta’s figure drawing atelier at the Long Island Academy of Fine Art. It was a top-notch experience. These intensive classical drawing sessions never cease to amaze me. As the model who sees and hears all, I can’t help but be impressed by the focus and dedication that goes into that kind of painstaking practice. Gosh those people work hard. Almost as hard as the model

The primary goal is to train the artist’s eye. Shapes and proportions provide the visual keys to representing the form, and the light reveals those forms. The human body is all forms, after all. Forms of muscle mass and underlying bone, creating relationships and contours, some of which are obvious, others more subtle. Artists in the classical tradition believe that drawing is the crucial foundation of painting, for it is through drawing that one’s ability to perceive forms – and mold those forms – is developed.

Robert and I set up a pose that would offer the class enough variations in forms without being too complicated. Then, with some perfectly angled lighting, we had a figure study that pleased the class very much. I found the pose fairly easy to hold. Maintaining my posture was the challenge, and I felt only minor lower back discomfort toward the end of each four hour session. Believe me, I’ve done much worse! Most of the class worked in charcoal, but some used graphite.

Three of the atelier students agreed, enthusiastically, to let me post their works here on Museworthy and I am happy to do so. The problem with drawings such as these is that the delicate qualities and detailed workmanship are less discernible on computer images than they are in real life. I’m sure you artists out there know how difficult pencil drawings are to photograph. They are best appreciated when viewed in person. But it worked out nicely that I have three images of the pose from three different perspectives.

This is Gerry’s drawing. She was working the closest to me, just a few feet away behind me and to the right. Very beautiful:

Smadar had a front view that presented a lot of foreshortening. She certainly handled it well. I love the light on the shoulder and collarbone:

And here is my friend Daniel’s piece. I really love the way he did the shadow shape on the stomach and front of the torso:

It was gratifying to pose for this atelier class and I hope I have the honor of doing it again. This week another group of artists awaits me – a figure painting workshop at the New York Academy of Art, taught by Maggie Rose. It will be my first time working with Maggie so I’m looking forward to that. Just one more week of art modeling duties and then . . .  can I say it? . . .

v a c a t i o n

Escape from New York

Only eleven more days until Martha’s Vineyard!! Not that I’m counting or anything I’m sorry everyone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I’ve never felt such an intense desire for a vacation than I do this summer. This restlessness and need to get away is exacerbated, I think, by my lovesick longing for a certain man. A diversion is definitely in order, for my own sanity! Also, I am more than ready to get the hell out of this city. Did I, the born-and-bred native New Yorker just write that? Yes I did. I love New York with all of my heart, but I’m gonna tell the blunt truth here: this city is full of fucking sickos, jerks, and assorted jackasses. Some guy thought that it would be a fine idea to haul a three piece furniture set onto a crowded N train during the evening rush. Yeah that was smart. Sure, crush my foot and smash us all up against the doors why don’t you? We’ll all suffer because you’re too much of a cheapskate to rent a van. That people attempt this crap in an already dysfunctional city is beyond me. Oh and to the guy on Seventh Avenue who asked me to show him my boobs? Bite me. And to the two attitude-laden hipster coffee baristas who couldn’t be bothered and ignored me at Starbucks even though they saw me standing right there, you girls can bite me too

Here’s an art image that’s totally unrelated to anything I just wrote, although I did do something similar at work the other day on my modeling break. Someone left an art magazine lying around the studio so I perused it, in the nude, because I didn’t feel like putting my gown on, and because nobody in that class cares, and because I don’t even care, because I just want to go on VACATION dammit!!

Nude Reading by Alfred Henry Maurer, 1928:

Photos at 44

So it seems that I started a minor shitstorm with my last post. Oops. Well, whatever. I’m not going to think about it today. It’s my birthday. And what a gorgeous day it is! I plan not to breathe any indoor air until the sun goes down. I modeled yesterday, then afterwards my family took me out to dinner to my favorite vegan restaurant because they’re awesome like that.

When I came home from our lovely evening I found myself in a strange mood. Maybe it was the wine Anyway, people often tell me that I don’t post enough pictures of myself on this blog. So last night, in a somewhat bored, tired, and tipsy state, I took a few in front of my laptop. I’m so lazy I made no effort whatsoever to create a real photograph of artistic value, or even ensure that I was fully in frame! All I did was lay down and click the button. Then I messed around with the pictures in iPhoto to give them an abstract look – and by “abstract” I mean gauzy, blurry, and distorted enough to camouflage my disheveled, bedraggled self. All kidding aside, these pictures are a fairly accurate self-portrait, believe it or not, in terms of my current state of mind and self-perception. Take from that what you will.

A rosy/orange tint to conclude my birthday series.

I know there are many comments on the Disclosure post, and I will respond to every one of them I promise. A discussion has developed and, as the blogger, I must participate. Also, thanks to everyone who sent me an email. I will reply to those as well. But I’ll do it tonight, hopefully, if that’s alright with everyone. Right now I’m just going to enjoy the day. Hope you enjoy your Sunday too! Catch you all later.

Love, Claudia

The Photographic Nude

I had the great pleasure of hanging out with a fellow blogger yesterday. Dave Levingston, photographer of Exposed for the Shadows, was in town visiting. He and I were lucky to find a few mutually convenient hours to meet at the Met on a positively gorgeous New York afternoon. Dave was most interested to see the “Naked before the Camera” exhibition and I was delighted to see it with him. The show explores the history of photographic nudes, from the earliest examples of the 1800s to the present.

I’ve learned that it’s advantageous to see a photography exhibit with a photographer. They share with you their passion and enthusiasm, and provide opinions and insights that not even the informative wall texts can offer. Dave was no exception. The man knows his stuff.

Because all the photographs belonged to the Met’s own collection we were allowed to take pictures, which I did. But as I prepared this blog post I found that the images on the exhibition page were really amazing. So the choice was between my crappy pics with glares and glass reflections all over the place, or the superb resolutions on the museum site. Kind of a no brainer. I’ve chosen just a few which I admired for various reasons, but do visit the selected works as there is much more to see.

[Seated Female Nude]  Eugene Durieu

Albumen silver print from glass negative, 1853-54

[Two Standing Female Nudes]  Felix-Jacques-Antoine Moulin

Daguerreotype, ca. 1850

[Thomas Eakins and John Laurie Wallace on a Beach]  Thomas Eakins

Platinum print, ca. 1883

Nude No. 57,  Irving Penn

Gelatin silver print, 1949-50