I’ve often wondered what was going on behind the life models eyes. They lay themselves bare to a crowd and yet it’s purely physical, we know nothing of the life of the human being before us. “It’s only a body”, says our model, with a sly smile as she slowly, elegantly stretches her legs out.
This is a life drawing class, set up in the minimalistic, intimate Whitespace Gallery. We surround the model of Lucien Freud and Francis Bacon, drawing boards resting on our laps. Immersing us into the bohemian, drug infused, risqué art world life style of 50s and 60s Soho, Henritta Moraes, played by Sue MacLaine, regales us with stories of lovers, art, artists, poets and the constant uphill struggle for clarity and self-identification.
The pace is slow and serene, and MacLaine gives us plenty of time to just draw in silence whilst she poses. Her presence and composure is captivating in stillness and supple movement, each gesture and pose is carefully considered, worthy of rendition in pencil or paint. Equally her performance of the monologue is assertive and engaging. Her command of the audience is impressive, holding each gaze, marking each person with careful precision and seductive intensity.
Unfortunately the fragmented recollections are difficult to follow, both within the text and broken up by pauses to draw. The introverted reminiscing lacks in context, names and details, and so despite MacLaine’s engaging presence it’s often difficult to get to grips with the dispersed narratives. Some knowledge of the art world might enhance the experience, particularly in order to understand the references to poses in certain works of art, but this isn’t essential. Looking about me I was happy to see everyone in the audience was attempting to draw, enticed by MacLaine’s insightful instruction and gravity.
