That junk mail that comes into your inbox…you know, the thing you signed up to because you might just win a weekends shopping or dinner for two at Martin Bosley's…the one you forget to unsubscribe to? Well sometimes it’s worth reading; like KNOW
Let me backtrack a little… Design School 1978, Wellington Polytech (now
“Here, let me,” he’d say and I’d dutifully give him my seat and he would proceed, in three or four deft strokes, to capture the model perfectly.
“There, now try it like that,” and with ash finally falling (mostly onto your work), off he’d move to the next student. I’d come away profoundly depressed, screwing up my feeble attempts and binning them, so no-one would ever see my failures. Had I been forward thinking, I’d have kept Ron’s work scrawled so cleverly over mine. He was truly gifted.
There followed another year at ‘tech, another tutor similarly despairing of my work (sorry Roger) and I really thought by the end of two years that I should give up drawing altogether. But my photography and film making skills were equally lacking, and I couldn’t get the hang of typography (you mean there’s more to it than Helvetica?) so up life drawing popped into my timetable for a third year. I was bored with it, bored with the naked models in boring poses and uninspired lighting. No sound save the scratching of pencils and the occasional cough. Ground hog day for art.
“I don’t want to see you drawing with anything thinner than a lipstick and white paper is banned,” she ordered.
“Get off those donkeys (the wooden seats with easels attached that we sat at) and onto the floor. I want you to kneel, stand, lie down if you like, anything but sit at a desk.” We were shocked; deliciously.
“You will take turns to set up the model with props, music and lighting.” This woman was smokin’ - not smoking.
“And draw BIG.” And we did. Considering the class was held in the evening after a long day grappling with major projects and life drawing was not a subject that made any difference to an overall pass or fail, you might expect that tired students would skip class. But we didn’t; Dr Sue cured us of our apathy. I found the artist in me and produced the finest life drawings of my entire career in those sessions.
Over the years I have said, as we artists all do, “I must go to life drawing again,” remembering times we drew wonderfully and trying to recapture those days before digital media took over our lives. So I do and always, there are desks and a model who looks like she would rather be at the Kirks sale than stand naked before a bunch of mostly old farts. The lighting is harsh, and a church-like hush smothers the room. And I am a first year student again with the ghost of Ron hovering over me sighing with despair.
But not at Mighty Mighty, not with Dr Sketchy’s
‘Dr. Sketchy is a life/figure drawing session with a twist. The concept is simple... Artists draw glamorous burlesque dancers and performance artists, compete in contests, and win wonderful prizes. And can enjoy a drink too.’
So, having seen it advertised in my inbox, I rocked up to one of my favourite bars in
Then all too soon (could it really have been 3 hours?) it was over. We all looked at each others work, packed up our pastels, pens, paper and inks and headed away, with huge smiles back up Cuba St. Thankyou Dr Sketchy, you saved me, and I’ll see you again next month. Best $14 bucks I’ve spent in a long time.