The horses mouths

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

What lacuna?

18 months down the track and I'm still humming and hawing about what the hell this is meant to be about.

I was/am/will be (until quite late tonight) writing up a paper I gave last year. It's kind of based roughly on the intro to the tome that will be. It starts with a nice affective story about modelling and then goes one to describe my big fat lacuna of a topic.

And the paper that I have given so far, give a nice hearty 'cheers' to the bright brave approach towards the sociology of art that I think i'm trying to pursue. I go and diss art writing, the impossibility of doing direct research on living artists that is research rather than nice cataloguey gloss things. of producing something as yet unknown...... of doing more than stamp collecting the life dteails of someone established and famous and alreayd selected by someone else as significant.

Listening to the delivery of one version, and listening to the discussion that folllowed, I was struck by something that the panel chair asked. I've presented my work as taking an art history topic researched within cultural studies, but the chair in this case, pointed to a big screaming gap in my paper, which is that I haven't actually discussed how the latter day life class, mainly the preserve of amateurs, is actually relevant to ART. More to the point; how my research inot this marginal amateur activity actuallly has any relationship to the existing complex and rich and quite seperate literature and research on contemproary art.

err.... ahem.

Well. first draft of response goes here. Bit I forgot in paper is the bit I keep not wanting to write. the chapter 2 that i'm leaving til the end of the year. the bit I raved on about to someone.

I'm interviewing artists and art educators, largely in the context not of their oeuvre (TM) but off something quite marginal - that was part of their own training, and some of their paid work. so I'm getting a nice sociological discursive overview of their attitudes towards nudity, voyeurism, traiditional skills etc. It's all quite sweet.

then i'm interviewing artists' models and getting a nice sociological discursive overview of their attitudes towards nudity, voyeurism, posing, transgression etc. Most of this aspect isn't particularly unique and has been done before, possibly not as well as I hope to do it, but certainly not too badly.

what I am doing that is, hopefully more interesting, is situating the artist model exchange, not as a metonymic fragment of weird abstract relatinos of artist/subject/voyeur/exhibitionist, or some other ghastly trope...... but (thnaks to dear old bourdieu) but as historically significant groups of poeple. Art is a field of relations. The models I'm interested in researching are largely artists or ex-art students themselves. SOme of the teachers and artiists are also ex-models. i'm interested in models as a certain class of artists (often but not always amateur, but mostly less successful), and as a certain type of witness to changes in art education and art practice in the last half century.

I then want to compare the various accounts; the ones form established official art authorities, the ones from the press, and the ones from models. arits models have genrally seen far more types of life drwing classes than any art student or art teacher, and are in a far better position to provide a critical perspective on what actually occurs.

this is the hope.

in fact, most models (to date) tned to respond in a surpeficial journalese. the social observations tend to be about nudity, voyeurism, posing, transgression etc.Maybe its just my questioning style. Acutally listening to my interviewing style is really horrendous. I hate hearing my voice, hate how I stumble and babble and often interrupt people, and don't give them space to pause, and stop and think slowly.

None of the critical writing on qualitative ehtnogrpahy actually mentions this. noone says "I think my interviewing style is shit". No one even seems to flag the possibliity that their interviewing style is shit, or that interviewing can be done badly. (or well). It appears to be assumed that the direct relationship with the voice of the subjects is iteself implicitly meritorious or authentic.

so I reckon maybe I need to fess up and retreat into my boring head for a bit. cite the big cool men doing big cool stuff. ground my work in a thorough sociology of art, even in relational aesthetics. prove that it matters. write my own stupid stories. Oh no. I'm sick of them actually.

thhere's one model who i interviewed, who i need to interview again. in fact the most interesting models do occupy this dual role of model and artist, and the most interesting interviews are very very long, but do involve both roles. I think it's because models are generally marginalised, and occupy a marginal position as artists, and acutally the modeeling isn't so implicitly interesitg on its own, but as a quasi professional practice, as a temproary and precarious occupation by struggling artists - IT IS. Again its the social relatios that make somehing interesting.

and lots of models have been on the edges of things, have seen things in the art world. and I do, rally do beleive that derridean thing of looking a tthe frames, at the edge sof things in order to understand their meaning. And the thing about art isntitutinos that make them interesting is the proous nature of the frame. who is avante garde or not.... changes.

and in australia, in sydney there is no comprehesive written history of postwar art education. the 60' and 70's were a really interesting time in sydney. lots and lots of stuff happened, and massive changes in art and art educaiton took place, and almost none of it is documented well. there were a lot of egos and a lot of shitfights and there still are. I think that there were (and are) so many careers built on the types of changes that occured, that noone has been able to do an assessment of what realy happpened.

so I reckon I like my perverse little approach of going "ok i've read that the life class vanished then, that it became so irrelevant to ART that it stopped being talked about and even stopped running in a few places..... so I'll look at that, and interview the practitioners, the models, and see what they did in the context of this dissapearance". It'nd not only saying that this practice did continue, but seeing how it continued wihtout a critical discourse, and seeing how the practitioners related to the art world outside of this marginalised little pocket of it.

Of course lots of models and amaetur sketch club teachers come up with this really boring neurotic 'oh, I hate the art world, I hate the postmodern conspiracy'. And other really dodgy and reactionary claims about their own practice and its marginalised context. So I then just want to shift the discussion back to some nice cultural studies area like nudity, or posing, or looking because its less..... icky.

But I came across a NICE article in some TATE gallery art education seminar book form a guy - who was actually addressing the parallel art worlds really well, and it made me believe that it is possible and necessary. what is ART, and what is the art world? Is it contemrpoary art? is it what gets institutinal funding, is it fahsionable cutting edge stuff? is it the avant garde? there are so many art worlds! and what i think is funny in the context of sydney rt educaiton - is that each school has writtine their own little histories almost oblivious to the other schools as if they don't exist? kind of claiming to be "the history of art education"

now, EVERY art school in sydney, every design college hs life drawing and has had it since world war 2. That is the one thing they all share. so I reckon its a good basis to actually explore the types of pedagogic practices, and the social relations in different art schools. I DON'T think that the life class is the most important part of art and design training - but it's got a strangely significant role that is mobilised in oss many funny ways that it is interesting.

so here is the dillema again. Do I make the thesis ABOUT the life class in the context of art education? or do I fit that into one part of WHAT the life class involves? and all the fun sociological stuff of what is posing, the concurrent history of fashion modelling, the social relations of the gaze, etc. Because all of this stuff is what I know, what other models (and some artists ) know, and what is coming up again and again in my interviews. It's interesting stuff and I could write about it with my eyes closed (almost).

what do i want this work to do? who is oging to read it? will it change anything?

shit, better get back to the serious stuff.

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Simply Irresistable

I thought this would be great opener for a per -but then I was telling anna about it and she reminded me that the song was "Addicted to Love".

shit.

If I used Addicted to love" - then I'd end up with a psychoanlaytic link - modeeling - desire and THe LACK

nooooooooooo

so I'm sticking wiht the other song - coz its cuter.


Simply irresistible
She’s so fine
There’s no telling where the money went
Simply Irresistible
She’s all mine,
There’s no other way to go
Oh Woe Ohhh.

Behind the man in the suit, they also stand and sway. Silent. He alone mouths the words. Their mouths are closed, eyes staring into space. They are all the same height, similar featured, tall, thin Caucasian, young. Identically clad in black Lycra sheaths, dusky (40 dernier “ash”) sheer stockings over slender knees. Coltish legs, ending in glimmers of black high-heeled court shoes. Hair scraped back like ballerinas, white pan-stick faces, full red lips, dark eyes and hollowed cheeks. Their faces all eighties geisha masks, their slung back shoulders, bare arms dangling like empty sleeves off a coathanger, loosely gliding against instruments, slung against their narrow hips, thrust forward and empty. Barely even pretending to play, heads tilting slightly from side to side, swaying to the beat. A pack of monstrous dolls. Deliriously vapid, drawing my gaze into the Cathode ray tube and away from the blank suited man in front, they don’t look back, and don’t look into the camera recording the video tape, watched by teenagers like myself. I peer freely, with gay abandon, scrutinising eyes, lip shapes, hair colour for signs of individuality.

They have no names, no identities, and no talents, apart from simply being a blanking distraction from the bland guitar pop of the singer. He’s no heartthrob – but check out his bevy. Immaculate cool. Simply Irresistable. Robert Palmer’s video clip, where fashion model clones replaced traditional decorative miming chanteuses familiar to pop provoked a minor frisson that promoted record sales and his cultural kudos as a man of his age. Prefiguring the 1990’s and the emergence of ‘supermodels’ at the heart of celebrity culture; the clip evoked the mutability of genres, and bodies that became an increasing feature of music videos. My 1987 Copy of Smash Hits records him arriving at some music awards with a brace of models “all the same height” and describing it as ‘a joke’, but I doubt he was aware of Jean Baudrillard's publication of “simulations”, in which he described the precession of simulacra from stucco, to automaton, to mannequin.

This is a connection I’ve only made in retrospect, nearly 2 decades after seeing the video clip. I think I was doing my HSC. Certainly the images of the 80’s rockish fembots was tantalising enough for me to invest in a black lycra mini from Bondi Junction, bought from a term of skipped lunches and scraped pocket money on a trip to Sydney. No way I’d wear it in the country. I tried it secretly in my bedroom, with sheer stockings, high court shoes (black or white?); tottering and scraping back my permed hair. Imagining and yearning into the mirror, I wanted to be them, and I wanted them, and I wanted me to be wanted as I wanted them, and I became mesmerised with the possibilities of my own glassy transformation into cool simulation of something that I knew I could never be. I simply wasn’t that type of girl. Only after moving to Sydney, emerging from the HSC summer of hell, thinner and with new contact lenses did I try ‘the total look’ on a country kids night out in the cross. I wanted to look cooler than the other kids, incredibly sexy, cool, aloof. I could barely walk in my heels and swaggered like a hick, bum out, shoulders slumped, pigeon toed, arms flailing, but I got into the OZ Rock Cafe without showing my ID. None of the others did.


Say the word ‘model’ and the fashion mannequin is what springs to most people's minds. However, despite an enormous proliferation in visual culture, and popular press of images and ‘gossip’ features about catwalk and photographic models, there is not a lot of academic literature on fashion models or what fashion modelling entails as a profession. Karen Perthuis’ (as yet unpublished) doctoral thesis from 2003 notes that, apart from biographies of famous models such as Twiggy, ‘scholarly attention to the model is relatively unmapped landscape’ . Most descriptions consist of chapters in general books on dress or fashion. and some recent texts in social anthropology . Such writing is often based around extensive descriptions of models’ appearances and ‘lifestyles’, without providing much scholarly analysis on the social relations and cultural practices being pursued. While a number of feminist texts in cultural studies have attempted a critical social analysis of the representations of and practices within fashion modelling , most writing on fashion models is either focused on exploring ‘the model’ as an abstract cultural projection, or ‘models’ as a group of celebrities, workers or study subjects. In many ways this parallels the lacuna surrounding artists’ models. Art history and theory has devoted considerable attention to discussing and debated ‘the nude’ and even ‘the body’, but historical research on naked artists’ models has only started to emerge in the past decade. This lacuna could be described as semantic difference between the model as a noun and model as a verb. There is a considerable textual focus in contemporary cultures on ‘the model’. The ‘model’ by definition is a type of cultural prototype. However ‘model’, as a verb, an action or production of an individual outside of the nominal label of ‘model’ is barely defined and rarely articulated. This is surprising in the context of the amount of abstract theorising on the body and fashion undertaken by prominent contemporary cultural theorists, such as Roland Barthes and Jean Baudrillard. The mannequin (an ambiguous model) is a central figure in Baudrillard’s description of the groundless, self-referential condition of hyperreality. The order of the mannequin is seductive idea on which to model a discussion of contemporary visual culture. If the mannequin or model is the ubiquitous and dominant experience of how subjectivity is constituted, then it makes sense to explore and articulate what the processes of modelling actually are. Baudrillard’s ideas on the precession of simulacra has been cited so often in so many contexts, that any discussion of the order of the mannequin or hyperreality, necessitates a brief exegesis of how such ideas are being deployed.

In “Simulations” , and later “Symbolic Exchange and Death” Jean Baudrillard described how the precession of simulacra has produced a contemporary embodiment that is entirely based on the mannequin. Baudrillard explicitly traces a historical narrative of the precession of simulacra from an imitation of bodies, to a complete phagocytosis of bodies into the realm of semiotic mirroring. He traces the order of simulacra as progressing through three stages. The first order is based on Stucco, a highly malleable and quick setting form of concrete is associated with Renaissance Europe, which sought and found means to create images and objects which could imitate every surrounding object. The development of plastic visual media such as stucco and oil painting was associated with the pursuit of tactile verisimilitude, which sought to recreate the world in singular continuous medium. The industrial revolution is associated with the order of the automaton, the machine age compelling labour and social relations to be regulated and coupled with mechanical inventions. Social life and human experience became increasingly structured around machinery, for working class as Fordist elements and in the development of a bourgeois and consumer society, increasingly mediated by fetishized manufactured commodities.

The third order of simulacra, emerging after world war two is that of the mannequin. In this order, the mannequin has no function beyond that of representation, and no relation to any reality outside of itself – or other mannequins. Collapsing the object into pure representation, the Mannequin presents the body as pure sign, empty of any references to anything beyond its own citations of other mannequins. As a contemporary ideal of embodiment, this presents a compelling image of post humanist subjectivity, evacuated of interiority, the collapse of the subject into a maelstrom of gestures, statements, signs all iterable as reflections of other gestures, statements and signs. Subjectivity becomes performance of citation, a repetition, a mimetic exchange between inscribed sites of signification, only the signification is only that of the act of signification, and not of anything outside of the exchange.

As a linear narrative the precession of simulacra can easily accommodate a slippage into a totalising view of hyperreality as an inevitable and universal consequence of the development of capitalism. Indeed many writers since Baudrillard have cited the groundless qualities of hyperreality in order to inscribe a post-subjective social condition based on a superficial incantation of ‘the body’ as a singular ‘mass grave of signs’ , a site of surface exchange devoid of interiority beyond that of lack. This view proliferates in a number of contemporary studies of fashion, which conflate fashion and dress in articulating an ahistorical, abstracted, totalising and arguably alienating description of contemporary experience of corporeal and sartorial exchanges.

Such a schema does a disservice to Baudrillard’s ideas on the mannequin, which are influenced by earlier writers of modernity and fashion, particularly Georg Simmel and Walter Benjamin. Benjamin’s writings on fashion and the fashion mannequin prefigure the detemporalising qualities of hyperreality and they also articulate a profoundly temporal relation to the society that they seek to describe. While Baudrillard’s breathless manifesto style, can convey a seamless totality of social relations, they do not preclude a closer examination of specific cultural practices, or of tracing finer historical circuits between people, objects, illusions and aesthetic possibilities.

The word mannequin has an ambiguous meaning; representing both plastic lifeless ‘dummies’ used in fashion, medicine and car crashes, to the living models working in fashion industry, either as catwalk or photographic models. This semantic ambiguity is reflected in the history of fashion models, which have evolved as a specific mimetic doubling between live models and their plastic counterparts. While fashion modelling and art modelling circulate in two distinct cultural and social realms, the barriers between the two fields have always been quite porous. While artist modelling has been described as a precursor to fashion modelling, both practices developed from mimetic relations with inanimate objects, and have continued to circulate in shared cultural realms such as medicine, erotica, theatre and labour relations.

Fashion mannequins or shop dummies, emerged in nineteenth century Europe . and were an amalgam of printed paper cut-out dolls, dressmakers dummies, early forms of sex dolls, drolly referred to as “femmes dociles” and exquisite porcelain headed fashion dolls of 18th century France While illustrated fashion plates had existed since Albrecht Durer, these ‘couriers de mode’ emerged in seventeenth century were developed by couturiers in order to distribute and promote the latest court fashions to potential clients in the European aristocracy. Exquisitely tailored and dressed dolls functioned as colourful sensual maquettes of increasingly fetishized costumed adult figures. Female figurines did not have legs, hinting at the seamless unity of dress and internal form, and ranged from 90cm in length to life size. Couture dolls were themselves a development from the lay figures used by artists from the 16th century. Royal subjects, reluctant to spend weeks sitting for artists, would have their face and hands superimposed onto bodily images painted from jointed wooden torsos, posed as and dressed in the elaborate costumes of the monarch. . The stiff disembodied images of Queen Elizabeth or King Henry are reflections of the hollow assemblage of face and fabric on which such paintings were based. This bodily absence of the monarch is echoed in sculptural ‘busts’, locating identity and power in the head, neck and shoulders. While artists had used living models, (themselves, family, servants or studio assistants) for parts of paintings, it is interesting that for a monarch painting, the replica models were inhuman.

The development of figurines in art and couture was also replicated in medicine. Anatomical figurines were made in clay and later in wax, and usually looked like hollow humanoid shells, stuffed with moulded objects resembling internal organs. As anatomical illustration developed in the 17th and 18th century, figurines and images oscillated between appearing as still corpses or as eviscerated living beings . The tension between depicting the verisimilitude of life of the verisimilitude of death was never resolved by medical figurines, which in the flutelike exactness of wax maintained a deeply disturbing ambiguity . In the nineteenth century wax figurines entered the realm of entertainment, with wax displays entering side-shows and public museums developing as an ‘educational’ pretext on anatomy and health . Even in the current century the elaborate displays of plastinated corpses by Gunther Von Hagens plays on this tradition, with the alchemy of plastination (injecting corpses with a polymer resin to transform flesh into wax) increasingly the aura of lifelikeness in the figures. Dressed wax figurines were used in historical folk museums such as Madame Tassaud's and the amusingly named ‘panoptika’ that proliferated in northern Europe. The public spheres for arrangement and displays of replicas of exhumed corpses developed as death itself was increasingly removed from the private social spheres of families, homes and small church graveyards. The development of the hospital, public morgues and urban graveyards, institutionalised the processes of natural deaths, and the removal of criminal executions behind walls banished death as a visible public spectacle. It is arguable in such a context that death became spectacularised in an allegorical form, and this explains the nature of the proliferation of mannequins and modelling culture in modernist spaces of urban Europe.

Fashion dolls continued to be made and distributed to haute Couture clients throughout northern Europe and North America well into the 19th century . Charles dickens features a ‘ladies doll maker’ in Our Mutual friend. However in Paris lifelike fashion dolls entered the public spaces, being placed in windows of arcades as advertisements for clothing. The appearance of lifelike/lifeless figurines in urban spaces is inextricably linked with the development of couture as fashion, and for Benjamin is one of the key elements in fashion’s own relationship with death.

Throughout the nineteenth century European academies allowed female models to pose, and eventually allowed female students into the art schools. While male and female models continued to find equal employment in schools and studios throughout Europe, female models came to dominate popular images of nude painting . The implicit sexuality of the privatised realms of female nudity contributed to the frisson and opprobrium attached to salon nudes and female models. However the increasing presence of women in public life, as workers in manufacturing, retail and service industries, as affluent urban consumers, and as writers, intellectuals and artists, compelled artists and illustrators to find new means for representing subjects who had previously been a subject confined to the domestic interior. The development of fashion mannequins and human models was integral to the ways in which male dominated early modernist visual cultures negotiated the threatening presence of women in public life.

In late 19th century Paris, female artists models were working class, and many worked part time in service industries such as cleaning, housekeeping or laundry. Some critics have argued that these artists’ models were the natural antecedent to fashion models which emerged at the same time, but it is important to note that artists' models came from both genders and many different ages and races, whereas fashion models were almost entirely young, Caucasian and female. The earliest fashion models in Paris, called “Sosies’, were usually shop assistants in haberdashery stores. Young, attractive and docile, if they bore a resemblance to a particular client, would be asked to model a new style of gown, as means of persuading the client to order one, thus acting as living mobile versions of the life size dolls that had been sent across Europe . The physical presence of mobile models was an important aspect of the increasing urbanisation of fashion. Couturiers and clients encountered on another face to face, in the liminal zones of arcades, and 19th century fashions became increasingly focussed on the sensuous qualities of bodily movement. The rustle and sway of skirts, the falls of pleats around hips and legs and the posture of corseted and bustled torsos were something best demonstrated on a living model rather than a limp and rigid armature . The “sosies’, acting as live mannequins for fashion customers, weren’t really functioning as models on who the clients would base themselves, and are less an antecedent to supermodels of the 20th century, than to ‘fashion mannequins’, still employed by pret-a-porter manufacturers in Australia such as Rockmans. Employed as “floor assistants” and classified under the shop distributors alliance as ‘fashion mannequins’, these are usually employed according to torso measurements fitting to the proportions of dressmakers size charts, and generally perform clerical duties with occasional fittings for the prototypes of new garments. The poor rates of pay and anonymity of such fashion mannequins are a world away from the agents, contracts and high pay rates for glamorous catwalk models.

The development of fashion models as spectacular figures of modernity, emerged from a cultivation of specialised group of young urban women, trained in personal grooming and deportment in order to imitate the living exemplars of style, the ‘demimondaines’. Promenading in public parks, balls and racecourses in expensive clothing, jewellery and millinery, such women’s precarious social condition as displaying the physical talismans of their association with wealthy male benefactors (as courtiers, lovers, fiancées) became living fetishes for male financial display. It was the mobilisation of these fetish elements of urban feminine display that characterised the development of female fashion in modernity. In the late nineteenth century, model agencies, associated with specific fashion manufacturers developed. . The most famous of these, Maison Lucile, became the most famous of these early ‘model agencies’ . Initially from London’s West End, Lucile recruited middle and working class girls and trained them in deportment and hairdressing and arranged them to be presented in theatricised choreographed displays of the latest clothing . Remaining silent, these women would not reveal their grisette or cockney accents and were able to complete the illusion of being sophisticated contemporary figures, worthy of emulation by the wealthy clients of the fashion houses. These new models were silent and nameless, usually named after their fashion houses, and interchangeable. The continuing changing spectacle of eternally young, almost identical women, produced the contemporary figure of the model, and reinforced the spectacle of fashion as an eternally timeless circuit of artificially seasoned neo and retro.

The development of fashion spectacles was twinned with developments in popular theatre such as music halls. While Lucile’s troupe prefigured the dance troupes such as Blue Bells, posing itself became a minor music hall craze. “Tableaux Vivants” became a brief craze particularly in England, where actors clad in flesh coloured body stockings, would arrange themselves on stage in imitation of famous paintings. Emerging in the 1840s’, they had their cited origins in the salon performances of “pose plastiques’ by Emma Hamilton during the previous century. Tableaux Vivants required actors be clad in ‘fleshings’ and facilitated some exchange between stage actors and artists models. While apparently artist models were less likely to be employed on stage than chorus girls, many chorus girls used the format of the ‘pose plastique’ to pose for artists or photographers ‘in character’. Distributing etchings or photographic prints allowed actors to promote themselves more widely. The emergence of photography in the mid 19th century quickly fuelled a demand for nude images, both among artists painting nude studies and general use as pornography. The proliferation of tableaux vivants, and nude photography and increasing nude paintings, caused a considerable public controversy in England and led to the passing of the obscene publications act in 1857 . Provision was given for allowing models to appear naked, as long as they remained completely still. This allowance had effects in the life class, of ensuring a strict protocol of robing between posing, which persists in English speaking life classes to this day. Paradoxically the legislation led to the degeneration of the tableaux vivants form a public spectacle to a genre more association with prostitution. By the 1860’s, men only clubs as the ‘coal hole’, featured naked women on stage, adopting an ‘art pose’ before the drunken male clientele who would later hire women as prostitutes . In a downmarket imitation of the scenes played out across the Atlantic at the academic Julian, women’s posing provided a theatricised fetishizing of their bodies as icons of male sexuality and consumerism. Even in its most lugubrious setting in the late 1860’s, the tableaux vivant operated within a set of protocol that still govern contemporary sex/based performances such as strip clubs and peep shows. The presence of the naked dancer, actress or model in a live setting amongst a group of men, is still charged with considerable social anxiety, such that club owners are eager to regulate, according to the socio economic identities of their clientele.

The 19th century featured increasing social mobility and social instability for women in Europe, the United States and some colonies, particularly in urban centres. In England the threat of women’s social mobility was projected onto the image of the prostitute, as an independent, socially mobile and socially contagious element of urban societies. The spectre of physical contagion was harnessed by concerns about the spread of venereal disease from brothels into respectable middle class families, and it echoed the enormous fears of social contamination between the classes. As urbanised men were seen to be moving in a number of different class based circles, urban women were also able to engage with and move through social classes. Service based occupations such as retail, modelling and performance were sites where different classes could and did come into extended intimate contact, and it is arguable that the emergence of fixed gendered models, provided a means of mediating the complex and volatile social exchanges that were possible. While prostitutes encapsulated the social dangers of independent socially and sexually promiscuous and socially and physically contagious women, female artists models acted as in increasingly mnemonic function for illustrating the transgressive and sexualised possibilities of nudity. In England, there was an enormous social gulf between artist and models, and artists models could be regarded as working class victims of middle class exploitation. In the late 19th century this changed in France as ‘bohemian’ cultures of the avant-garde circles emerged. Rejecting bourgeois morality and critical of academy conventions, avant-garde artists came from many regions of France and Europe. Many of these artists were poor and had disdain and an exclusion from bourgeois society and conventions. Unable to afford models, many bohemian artists posed for each other or entered sexual and emotional partnerships with women who would pose for free in exchange for lodging company and art education. The emergence of avant-garde art movements in Paris in the 19th C was linked to the bohemian lifestyle of radical artists and writers, and as new art movements popularised, bohemian lifestyles became romantic and glamorous aspect of the new cultures. In the bohemian contexts of the Pre-Raphaelites movements, artist models became considered as muses and lovers, singular worshipped icons of romantic passions of artists. In England, artists sought a type of ‘naturalism’, rejecting studio models as artificial, stagey, and seeking to recruit models based on their capacity to embody all of the artists’ creative aspirations and dreams. Artists would select models based on their feminine glamour, approaching them in public settings of concerts and streets , and recruiting them by a process of wooing – itself often culminating in a sexual tryst.

The new naturalism, was a form of responding to the complex social configurations of 19th modernity, and a means by which artist established their own social distinction in a flourishing consumer cultures. The views of the life class as ‘stagy’, and artificial, were no doubt a reaction to the popularising of life models in stage productions and the increasingly downmarket '‘pose plastique’. The creative appeal of daily life’ was no doubt drawn from the excitement derived from increasing social interchange in public spaces such as opera, theatres, open air markets, public gardens, public transport . They were also arguably, a means whereby artist fought to maintain cultural capital in a social milieu where technologies of photography but also complex public theatres of social exchange were eclipsing them. The 19th century architecture of Paris with the wide boulevards, Grande Magazins and elaborate buildings such as the Eiffel Tower and Garnier’s opera were not only spectacular in themselves but provided new landscapes for populated assemblages. The development of arcades, as semi-interiorised passages between such open streets, provided forms of intimate spectacle and facilitated the increasing fetishization of consumer objects and products. In such settings the movement of living models, fashionably dressed women, reflected in the large glass windows of the grand boutiques were doubled by the posed mannequins within. While store dummies had been initially constructed as crude metal armatures, with exposed heads covered in horsehair and fabric , more lifelike plaster heads and bodies gradually replaced them. This lifelike turn was coupled with the development of fashion models, and maybe explained as a transfer of commodity fetish from the clothes as discrete products, to an embodied sartorial model of human form. In the mid 19th century, mannequins came to represent models for human comportment in public; upright, elegant and fusing into the latest fashion. The spectacle of store dummies was twinned with presented spectacles of living dressed models. In Australia, fashion parades were principally hosted by and housed within the department stores.

In these shows, the mute, still world of the store fashion dummy, transfixed behind stage-like windows of glass, was transformed into live drama, although window displays and fashion models continue to mutually create each other, and the blankness of the dummy was imperceptibly transferred to the live model.

Combining elements of music halls, theatre and striptease, fashion parades attracted thousands of spectators, and were a major form of public theatre. Models as the ‘stars’ of such parades became as reified as the fashionable clothes they wore. They were increasingly regarded as a respectable and desirable career for middle and occasional upper class women. Fashion models had in fact become genuine social models for affluent female consumers. Fusing personae and product, they were the embodiment of the fetishized power to transform clothing into a spectacular expression of modernity.

The strangest aspect of the new fashion models, presented in such theatricised settings was their apparent lack of theatricality. While models were glamorised and respectable, they were still silent and nameless on stage, and in their choreographed routines, resembled troupes of marionettes rather than individual women. The doubling of fashion model and mannequin as lifelike but profoundly uncanny human forms, provided a public spectacle for the alternance of life and death, as mediated and managed by fashion. The necrophilial fetishizing of the new female models was echoed in Pre-Raphaelite painters who painted their muses as dead, drowning, collapsing, consumptive mythic heroines . However without the public outlet provided by department stores, of allowing audience to enter and merge with the spectacle, to purchase its raiments and imbue themselves with its mythic power , the fine arts were destined to occupy a more marginalised position in popular culture, and fine art models with it. While a number of upper class women did become celebrity art models at the art of the twentieth century , they were eclipsed, by the saturation of visual culture with cinema stars, and the fashion super models of the late twentieth century.

The late nineteenth century, with the intense confluence of fashion spectacles, reified female nudes in art, proliferation of mannequins, anatomical models and other forms of automated or simulated figurines, fascinated many writers at the time, and many writers and artists since. Walter Benjamin’s Arcades project, developed in the 1930’s as a patchwork of comments, quotations and reflections on the emerging spectacle of modernity which centred on the new consumer arcades in Paris. The Arcades project, as an incomplete bricolage of textual fragments, evokes contemporary writings of Benjamin's contemporaries such as the surrealists Michel Leiris, but they provide a rich source of contemporary social theories. In heralding the (post) modern age of hyperreality as being dominated by the order of the mannequin Baudrillard mobilised many of Walter Benjamin’s earlier writings on fashion, models, seduction and death. In “The Doll, the Automaton” Benjamin assembled various quotes, from the history of fashion, to contemplation of literature, theatre reviews, Marxist theory and juxtaposed them with comments of his own. The accumulation of such fragments, often contradictory and ambivalent about the seductive and repellent qualities of the new modernity evoke the power of fashion as mobilising major cultural forces. One quote describes a presentation of Chinese Shadows a puppet exhibition at the Palais royal:

“A Demoiselle gave birth on stage, and the children could immediately scamper about like moles. There were four of them, and they danced together a few moments after the birth in a pleasant quadrille. Another young women started tossing her head vigorously, and in the twinkling of an eye a second demoiselle had stepped full clothed from out of her head. The latter at once began dancing but, the next minute was seized in turn with head shaking; these were labour pains, and a third demoiselle stepped out of her head. She too immediately began dancing but soon took to tossing her head like the others, and out of arose the fourth demoiselle It continued in this manner until eight generations were there on the stage – all related to one another through spontaneous generation, like lice”

Juxtaposed between a paragraph on women in carriages looking like dressed display dummies and Paul Lindau’s descriptions of automatons and dolls as repulsive, the excerpt evokes a phenomenon of inhuman parthenogenesis, of reproduction spreading like a contagion across the stage, provoking identical copies of copies of copies. The compelling spectacle, at once mimicking life, arresting death and arresting the gaze and mind of the viewer. As the organ of reproduction, the model's heads indicate the force of the imaginary code that directs the hall of mirrors of mannequin culture in hyperreality. It is all in their heads. In the Arcades Project, Benjamin juxtaposed descriptions of each, or references to each in fashion writing, trying to elicit connections between modernity, fashion culture and the distorted productions of humanity and monstrosity. Dolls, extrapolated and extruded sections of human forms, of heads, torsos breasts and legs, are twinned to the same bizarre mechanics of clockwork, inventing and circularising micro time into miniaturised mechanic circuits, referential to their own machinic logic. Keeping time.

“All of fashion is in conflict with organic life, all fashion invest itself in marrying the living corpse and the inorganic world. Fashion defends the rights of the cadaver over the living. Fetishism which cannot resist the sex appeal of the organic its vital centre. Benjamin “fashion” in Passage works Paris 1993 p104. “

At the time of Benjamin’s research Fashion mannequins had already moved past the lifelike representations which populated the arcades in the previous century. The macabre qualities of lifelike lifeless store dummies were already publicly acknowledged, in art and fashion magazines. 1924, a French arts writer wrote:

“Here is a new art, that of mannequins, we have finally become disgusted with those horrific wax cadavers, those disturbing counterfeits…”

The writer articulated the abject figures with a kind of ‘knowing’ complicity, with a insouciance typical to fashion writing, dismissed the old figures as ‘so yesterday’. This capacity to declare something ‘dead’ or ‘over’ resurfaces again and again in writing on fashion.

Cadaver images are, in fact, merely a revival of a '60s fashion. In 1961, five years before Twiggy was named model of the year, the Sydney Morning Herald reported the "sick look as fashion craze" and the corpse-like appearances of wasted tubercular models with chartreuse complexions, sunken spines and smudgy eyes (1961). (Living dolls)

But today, traditionally pragmatic Australian women are apparently resisting the persuasions of illusions which elides them with dummy, porcelain doll, puppet, mannequin and the corpse-like body.

The above quotes only serve to highlight the self-referentiality and circularity of fashion discourses. The closed circuit of references does eliminate any credible reference to a ‘natural’ order. In the 1920’s this rejection of corpse like mannequins, was coupled with a precise turn in how artificial mannequins and later fashion models were denaturalised in the interests of consolidating the pathways of female fetishization and consumer spending. Twentieth century mannequins became increasingly abstracted, effaced, and more redolent of the abstracted shapes of early abstract painting. As stated by the following critic

“The modern decorative artists has…sworn to annihilate the horrible simpering wax figures of the clothiers shows of our youth… sometimes all anturaliation is cast aside, decoratively cut features, cut out of in plane, are gilt or silvered over, adding to its strangeness. Sometimes face and figure become a mere cubist chaos of intersecting surfaces; sometimes face and hands are reduced to a decorative hieroglyphic traced inn space.

As fashion mannequins became increasingly referential to abstract art, surrealists exhibited fashion mannequins in bizarre juxtapositions of objects. The permeation of avant-garde art and fashion mannequins was promoted as a modern and modernist stylistic shift, however it was also characterised by a disarming level of misogyny towards the female bodies depicted. The surrealist such as Hans Bellmer used fashion poupees in increasingly disturbing way and this reflected Picasso’s own hysterical violence on the rearranged nudes of the 1930’s. While effacement and evisceration of feminised figurines participated in the imperative of transgression and shock, they also consolidated a deeper displacement from the fetishized female body onto the fetishized objects of consumer culture. Gronberg argues that this was a deliberate and conscious strategy, developed by retail advertisers in the 1920’s. Citing the science of psychology, advertisers described and devised strategies for producing and promoting stylised images of women, that would evoke fashionable models, and yet act as a lure to the inorganic objects they were selling.

The new mannequins, featured in the 1925 Paris Exhibition, were faceless, with stylised pinheads ‘Javanese’ poses and peach textured skin smothered in gold and silver paint. These abstracted and unreal figures helped articulate varying levels of cultural capital within consumer groups. ‘Sophisticated, modern affluent consumers appreciated the modern art references and sought to be aligned with the new mannequins. This alliance of sophisticated consumer and abstracted mannequin was enhanced by cartoons, mocking the shock and inability of unsophisticated rural folk to comprehend or comport themselves around the new modern figures.

With the logic of simulacra firmly established in the previous century, live fashion models started to imitate the increasingly abstract mannequins. Fashion parades increasingly featured ‘sullen’ models, straight mouthed and eyes looking into space . Models moved in unison, as spectres or automatons, with the stylised forms of comportment ‘sashaying’, turning and posing becoming increasingly stylised and artificial . The contemptuous ’ face of the models, as inscrutable, added to the mystique of the commodities they were promoting. Such models, performing as mindless hypnotised zombies, not only spectacularised a denaturalised living state, but increased the power of the fashion spectacle to direct social order. The social power of such models, was enhanced in the early twentieth century spaces where alternance of fashionable clothing, from fixed plaster mannequins to stylised zombie like creatures, provided an uncanny replacement, for socialised enactment of death and rebirth.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Just Act Natural

A few years ago I was working as a model. With full day bookings on average 4 days per week, I could even say that I was one of Sydney’s “top models”. There’s a couple of images of me floating around – in Women’s Weekly and in a Cleo sealed section where I appeared stark naked, cropped, shrunk and juxtaposed with photographic images of other naked models who I have actually never seen outside the pages where our flesh appears to rub together. A jolly jostling lot, juxtaposed with a placard gaily proclaiming “size 16” between my calves. I though I was only a 14. My measurements were those of a dressmakers fourteen – 36” 28” 36”, but oh but, who cares? I only did it for the money, $300 bucks for two hours, and double what the other models had accepted. I was amazed at my haggling chutzpah and amazed that I could earn in two hours of standing in front of a camera, more than what I earned (after tax) in the rest of the week, three full days posing naked for life classes. Cleo were desperate, and willing to pay extra, for larger models. Trying to give a ‘naturalistic’ portrayal of ‘real’ women, they found that somehow most women prepared to bare all for the camera were the sizes, shapes and colours of the rest of the bodies represented in the magazine. Size 10, or 8, or 6. .

“Real women” articles in ‘women’s” magazines, emerged in the 1990’s as a quasi-feminist response to charges of idealisation of thinness and stylised beauty of photographic mannequins. This intensified towards the end of the decade, when Australian fashion was described as ‘in crisis’ , and increasing media and government attention was focussed exploring links between media images of thinness and proliferation of body dysmorphia syndromes such as Anorexia nervosa in young female consumers. They are also an inexpensive way of generating copy – as magazines don’t hire agency models, which usually charge a couple of thousand dollars per session, and more if naked. Recruiting real women or non-photographic models is a challenge, and most articles, feature artists’ models or professional strippers. One artists model said she’d posed in a group with some strippers and found them ‘gross’, scratching their depilated vulvas in public, and adopting coy, slutty, ‘lezzie’ poses in front of the camera. Looking at the images in the size 14, 12, 10, 8 and 6 sections, I could guess, by shaved pubes and embellishments like tattoos, piercings, who was less likely to be working as an artist model. Generally artists’ models present a type of unrefined natural classicism, without extensive depletion, cosmetic surgery or makeup. The ‘natural’ appearance of artists’ models is partly to distinguish the life class from less edifying genres, such as fashion magazines but also soft porn and strip shows and also to emphasise the artists’ own imaginative capacities to produce the idealised nude from a ‘raw’ nature.

While posing for the Cleo shoot I was perplexed by the photographer’s banal mantra of “Just act natural’, act like you’re really happy with your body”. It was eight o’clock in the morning, and I was standing on a cold curved concrete skating ramp, adopting habitual contrapposto poses from the life class, and trying to convince my brain that they weren’t after a Rubens. They wanted me to be upright, curvy, smiley and happy. Hell! What about my famous repertoire of Rodinesque contortions or anguished Goyan heroines? Life class posing is always limited by the time of each pose. The most interesting poses are the shortest and the drawings are generally the less illustrative or pictorial and more like a generalised scribble. My professional vanity was hoping for a pictorial record of my acrobatic expressivity, pulling my foot up behind my head, standing on one leg, cowering in expressive terror, or transforming myself into a renaissance classic, with embellished versions of old ballet stances. Students at art schools usually went along with the ‘expression’ of each pose, and I knew how to structure posed to give an ‘appealing’ view from all sides. And yet, posing for the camera was more revealing, despite the single view of the fixed monocular lens. I realised I sustained contrappostos by swaying backwards, and I realised too, that outside of posing, pretending and playing, I wasn’t ‘happy in my body’ and couldn’t adopt the Colgate smile that early in the day. I couldn't act ‘natural’ because the situation was profoundly unnatural and alien, and I didn’t know the pose for ‘natural’ or ‘happy’. The final image shows me stepping forward awkwardly, with a made up face staring back with the smiling eyes of so many women in my family, a familiar smile, but not mine.

A year later, I had another gig at the Women’s Weekly. This article featured five models, each representing a decade of women’s ageing from women in their twenties to those in their sixties. Apparently they’d had serious trouble finding older models that would pose for the low cash rates being offered. This is less of a reflection of the perceived shame attached to ageing bodies, than the cultural and social capital of older experienced models. There are three female artists’ models in Sydney who are aged over sixty. All of them have worked in performance and two have posed in glamour photography in the past. One of them stated that the rates offered by the weekly were scandalously low, and refused to take the job on principal. I needed the cash, and so posing as a metonymic 30-year-old, I bleached my hair in order to be less recognisable to my mum’s hairdresser or my old classmates or in the country. The Women’s Weekly idea of natural was a little different to Cleo’s. They wanted my eyebrows plucked and legs and armpits shaved. The let me keep my pubes, but after a 2-hour makeup session I was unrecognisable. Unlike Cleo, Women’s Weekly shot on film and didn’t use any digital manipulation of the bodies or backgrounds. Assuring us they were after a ‘classy, arty’ look they also posed the models in ways that concealed our pubes, nipples and even our shaved armpits. During the makeover session, the fashion and beauty editor proclaims that I had “great bone structure” and that I “could really do this seriously if I put some effort in”. I suspect she was trying to flatter me, make me feel included in a visual culture that seemed so alien. (Reform the butch dyke, make her behave, pretty her up). I thought of Calamity Jane with mud on her frock and smiled as I assured them I didn’t have any political objections to shaving my legs or underarms, I just never saw the point of doing it. As a feature on ageing, the article was rather strange. My body looked larger and saggier than the 40-year-old dancer on the following page, but this might have been part of its ‘authenticity’. At least I wasn’t asked to ‘act natural’.

Such ‘natural’ images, in a magazine such as Cleo, twinned with multiple images of thinner idealised fashion models, could also be seen as a continuum of the dualised tradition in Australian visual culture, between a type of authentic Australian fuller figured ‘naturalness’ and extreme bodies of imported models from cosmopolitan cultural centres such as north America and western Europe.
The modern spectral model increasingly became a feature of upmarket fashion parades, even in Australia in 1936 . In Australia the modernist fashion parade, had the added cache of being part of a touring spectacle from Europe. The reception of sophisticated modernist conventions of fashion modelling was not extended to mannequins that remained relatively archaic until the 1960s. . Up until the late 1940’s miniature fashion dolls were distributed throughout Australia, and most store dummies were of the naturalised plaster. This fissure between modernist sophistication and a more prosaic conservatism, was a contradiction that has continued to circulate within the Australian visual culture. The 1920’s saw an increasing cultural anxiety over a distinctive Australian identity. As argued by Peers, figurative art became associated wit a patriotic nationalism of the emerging ‘new race’ of white Australian, and nudity became linked to a neo Hellenic ideal of sport, sunshine and the new national identity. Juliett Peers describes the emergence of this ‘natural type’ in figurative art of the 1930’s. Female artists such as Freda Robertshaw and Ola Cohn depicted themselves as ‘ athletic, lithe but uneroticised Amazons” . Robertshaws’s paintings of beach scenes feature bronzed, active, curvaceous women and men, almost androgynous in their swimwear. This national mythology of naturalised corporeality was important means for legitimating the proliferation of life modelling and life drawing in art and trade schools in the early 20th century . Australians were influenced by English ideas of naturism, and nudity was promoted and linked to the outdoors, physical activity and strength, bronze skin and a non-prurient, no-nonsense approach to self-presentation . Within fashion this national type manifested itself as a fuller figured size 14 ‘healthy’ model. Emerging in the 1930’s, the curvy model embodied the practical concerns of colonial womanhood and served to fuel myths of Australia as a largely rural society, when in fact it has and continues to be one of the most intensely urbanised populations in the world.

Counterposed with the increasingly thin mannequins presented by European fashion houses, the ‘natural Aussie’, has enabled another form of alternating play on the issue of cultural authenticity. This has continued to this day, where images of anorexic wafer models are juxtaposed with features on ‘natural’, or ‘real women’. The “real sizes” centrefold in Cleo, was another deployment of this ‘natural’ model. Despite the nomenclature, and despite the relatively relaxed requirements for admission as a natural model, this genre is as bounded by conventions of artifice and simulation as the most extreme unreal and distorted fashion models. The conventions of appearing as a ‘natural’ model define themselves against other competing genres of physical presentation. This may be against the perceived artificiality of professional mannequins, or against the anachronism of the life class, the kitsch of soft porn, the obscenity of striptease, the elitism of celebrities. All of these perceptions are culturally specific and largely contested within the settings where models pose and are observed and imitated by others.


While artists' models became less significant in consumer based visual culture; they remained a contentious theme within art education, and studio practice. In the nineteenth century, the taboos surrounding the nude figure provided one way of regulating what classes and genders had access to various forms of education and cultural appreciation. For most of the nineteenth century, the life class excluded women students and working class in provincial areas, and in England, paintings, were received into a cultural milieu fraught with ambiguity and debate. The class-based anxieties of Victorian England, projected onto the nude persisted well into the twentieth century. The proliferation of soft core pornography magazines, sexualised advertising in consumer culture, encouraged the distinction between naked and the nude to be deployed by Kenneth Clark in a manner which privileged the scopic regimes of ‘art connoisseurs’ over the less reified, and less allegorised images in popular culture. While social anxieties crystallised around the female nudes, male nudes continued to be produced, although their numbers fell in comparison to female nudes. In the twentieth century, artists models were the sit for many avant-garde innovations, as movements from abstraction to surrealism, expressionism, pop art all used images of models or nudes in which to carry pictorial conventions that were being addressed or challenged by the artworks. Salon nudes became increasing figment of amateur art societies, many of whom adopted a curious pastiche of realist painting conventions, derived from smoothed over idealisation of 19th century academicians and combined with pictorial conventions of photography and soft porn. In the late twentieth century, artist pursued figurative art based on avant-garde theatre, presenting their own bodies rather than using models. What was live performance art in the 1960’s and 1970’s has circulated as video documentation of such pieces, which has itself developed into a separate genre, often involving collaborators or models.


Throughout the twentieth century, artists models continued to work in art schools and occasionally for artist and illustrators for the similar conditions of anonymity insecurity low pay and low status that they had always done. Life modelling provided a form o supplementary income to actors, artists, students and other itinerant workers in creative disciplines. Lower paid than work in photographic modelling, or other ‘body work’ occupations such as stripping, sex performance or sex work, modelling has an aura of quaint respectability as well as a historical association with avant-garde transgression. Artist modelling also creates and reinforces certain social distinctions of the naturalness of cretin body types and perceived agency of its participants.

and have seerpaerate The divergent Modernity produced a strange divergence in models, from reified nudes of academic and salon art, to the commercial proliferation of photographic and catwalk models, providing fetishised icons for sartorial comportment in modern society. While operating in different cultural registers, and having quite distinct gendered social roles, the fashion models and artist models have some rather disturbing contiguities. The act of posing, pausing, the stylised artifice of stillness, is important to the register of both, as are the evocations of death and a stylised alternance between lifelikeness and lifelessness. Both conventions of modelling are formed by amalgam of composites. For the fashion mannequin, style involves a quotations of sartorial remnants, evoking new and old in deathly cycle of not new not old mockery of novelty, such fragments are assembled onto the body of the mannequin, staring, swaying, swaggering and leaning, and whose stares and leers and vacuous impression complete the ensemble. Artist models poses are formed by citation of images, fragments from art history and famous images themselves historically comprised of composite of fragments, excised and reassembled into an ideal. Real people imitation assemblages, the hall of mirrors stretches back and forth in time.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Models of/in research

Diving Into The Lacuna: An Ethnography Of The Life Class

DEFN: Lacuna A hole, pit from lacus or Lake, Lacune
1. In manuscript, an inscription, the text of an author, a hiatus, blank, missing portion. Also transf.
2. a gap, empty space, spot, cavity.

This is an extended version of a paper I intend to give at a cultural studies conference in December. It’s based on parts of the first chapter of my thesis on the use of artists’ models in Australia since 1945.

I have adapted the paper to this setting among art historians chiefly in order to address some of the pressing questions of methodology and interdisciplinarity. While I would say that I am researching a subject related to art history largely within disciplinary approaches of cultural studies, many methodological as well as theoretical issues cross both fields. Basically I am here to generate a discussion and exchange some ideas on ethnographic research and art history.

I am also interested in how contemporary art practices can be researched and critically described within a social context where written descriptions have an intensely reflexive relationship with cultural production, and promotion of cultural products. This problematic positioning of contemporary art writing has influenced my research approach.

My research is not specifically on artists’ life models, but their use in Educational and Recreational settings, within what are generally described as life classes. There is not a huge amount of published research on artists models, and most of what does exist is based on Europe up until the early twentieth century. while some writers argue that this decline is due to the prominence of as catwalk and photographic modelling in the 20th century, its is also true to note as did Karen de Perthuis (who completed her PhD on fashion models) that “scholarly attention to the model is a relatively unmapped landscape”. The paradox between the massive cultural emphasis on analysing figurative images and the lack of research on the experiences and practices of the subjects of such images is discussed in my thesis but will not be dealt with in this paper.

While research on artists’ models is rare, it is not unknown, especially for artists models to do a thesis on the subject. In a number of cases, academic writing has been a way out of life modelling, or a convenient purging of what is for most models, and many students, a temporary casual job. At SCA an artists model Eliza Bell, wrote an MVA thesis to accompany her performance piece “permission to look”. This was 10 years ago, and I’ve heard that she runs TAFE weekend workshops in Gippsland and Kangaroo Valley as “the naked lecturer’, but I can’t locate her. I also came across a chapter in a berg anthology on fashion theory from 1998, by Gordon Roe. Titled “ the body of Art and the Mantle of Authority” Roe’s chapter declares itself to be “the result of ethnographic research on the lives of ‘professional’ artists models.” He then provides his definition of professional model and states that he too is a model, but that he sees his ‘peculiar position’ as an anthropologist ‘would’, and observing the studio as an outsider, and asking questions of instructors, art students and models. Roe states that he interviewer a total of 13 models and an unnumbered amount of ‘art schedulers’. These were spread across Canada and London, and roe questioned them about their experiences in life classes rather than posting for individual classes.

Roe’s paper would seem to be a precursor of the research I want to undertake. He has a similar subject, similar methodology, and familiar list of citations derived from feminist theories of the gaze, feminist theories of the nude, feminist art history of artists’ models, and a bit of Bourdieu for good measure. Roe’s argument is also interesting, and explains the inclusion of his paper in a book about fashion theory. He describes models as ‘the body of art’ and the models work as turning themselves into an aesthetic object, and this being mediated by the use of robes, which he describes as the ‘mantle of authority’. Roe describes the life studio as akin to a theatre, and the robe as a stage curtain and discusses the robes mediating role in descriptions of different types of models robes; long, large and subdued for those who were introspective or felt threatened, shorter, brighter or thinner for those who were more confident, more physical or more sexual in their style of modelling, or one model who had several for different personae that she presented at different jobs. Although 4 off the 13 interview subjects were male, roe didn’t include any descriptions of what type of robes, if any that they used. He also described the use of the robe, and changeroom, and conventions of undressing and disrobing as according to a singular convention of the model, changing form street clothes to a robe in the changeroom, and then wearing the robe to the podium where disrobing occurs at the start of a pose. It is my understanding that such protocol is pretty universally enforce din the united states, but it certainly isn’t in Sydney, and doesn’t even exist in continental Europe. This anomaly points to wider problems with roes text, and one that is shared by many popular descriptions of life classes. Roe writes in the present tense, and provides descriptions as generalisations. Roe’s descriptions are harnessed to rather formulaic invocations of John Berger/Laura Mulvey analysis of scopic regimes as intractably and irreversibly gendered. While this may be understandable for a writer from a decade ago, it is perplexing that he has cited Judith Butler in what is a glib and rigid analysis of gendered roles of artists and models. Roe’s paper quickly slides from perplexing into aggravating, as he cites feminist interventions into the life class as specifically threatening the models own “mantle of authority’ as an active agent in mediating the patriarchal and objectifying gaze.

On rereading Roe's paper and noting my annoyance, I did a google search and discovered that he is currently a professor of sociology and anthropology at Simon Fraser University in Canada. “Ratemyprofesssors.com” gives him a 3/5 for being able to explain ethnography real well, so either he has improved, or his students have pretty low expectations. I mention this aside, because what struck me in his paper, was the complete absence of any references to ethnographic or qualitative research texts, or any discussion of his research methodology. Furthermore, although Roe locates himself within his subject area as a type of participant observer, he doesn’t articulate where his observations about the life class come form. He doesn't specify which are derived from personal experience, or from observation, anecdote or interview. As such, the reader has no way of verifying what he is saying or of challenging it.

I’ve spent this amount of time on Roe’s chapter, because of its similarities to my own body of work, but also to emphasise the differences. Roe would appear to be committing the worst excesses of interdisciplinary research; researching personal experience, using shallow or outdated theoretical exegesis and small and poorly defined research methodologies. Right now, I may appear to be committing a further excess of interdisciplinarity research, that of ostentatious performance of transgression as I now stand and remove my own ‘mantle of authority’ or old working uniform.

My research on my former occupation of artists’ model, means that I can never occupy a position of invisible or absent embodiment. My interest in reading and researching the life class came from specific embodied experience of it, and every time I mention that I was a life model, then people’s eyes invariably glance downwards, away from mine. Rather than whinge and make people feel more awkward, I feel it is more useful to explore and explain what embodied research involves.


I’ve spent this amount of time on Roe’s chapter, because of its similarities to my own body of work, but also to emphasise the differences. I’ve described the text of his paper, the major difference between his an my research is analogous to life drawings. Roes chapter, is the only chapte rin the book featuring illustrations. He has included a number of line drawings of faceless, and mostly genital-less models, by a cited but unknown artist. I am curious about the purpose of the drawings, which are little more than fairly, asexualised quick life drawing sekthces. Are they meant to be na indication of the ‘work’ or objectification, the asexuality of life modeeling, the banality of art? The text doens’ refer to them, except to cite the artist, not the models, nor the date or place where they were drawn. In many ways this mirrors ro’es text itself. Each image depicts a figure, floating in a vacuum. Ro’es text is about ‘models’ but cited in the context of a universalised ‘life class’, the models emerge as little more than metonymic fragments of a modernist imaginary. Roe gives no esriptions of the types of life classes, or the types of institutions employeing moredle,s, nor expores the quality and stauts of the drawings as cutlurla products. He makes a brief reference to a comment from a model saying ‘they are not about us’, but doesn’t explore what the point of drawing form the model actually is. Whle it is arguable that the status of life models hasn’t changed much since the ninteenth century, it is undeniably that the status of life draing and life painting has definitely changed in relation to what is exhibited nd studied as contemporary or even significant art. Roe mentions that most artist models gain most of their income form institutions, he doesn’t explain tha tthis is due to the decline of professional artists use of models, or discuss how the two settings may influence the noature of posing and of who works as models and under what conditions.

I would juxtapose the drawing sin Roe's paper, with (imaginary or real) drawings, which show quite a different approach. These drawings depict scene – where someone is posing, and in some of them you can even see draers. These drawings a repordouced according to a convention of mapping a view onto a page, which is quite different from the contoured or arabesque emphasis of the drawings in Roes paper. These are two of at least four distinct approaches to teaching drawing, some of which are documented, and others not. I’m not prais the merits of either parroch but drawing ana analogy with research and writing. While I find buzz words tedious, I would state that good ethnography has more affinity with the ampping approach. Rather than seeing models as a subject tfor research, I regard the life class as a field, to be entered and described, and y position within it to be mapped, and plotted. The field or place is something whih I am quite conscious of.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Marathon Muse

I had an ineresting experience today.

I rocked up to a sketch club to find that the model I exected to draw hadn't turned up. for some stupid reason - I decided to fill in.

what was the stupid reason?
Needed the cash
wanted to feel my body
wanted to meditate

I haven't modelled since may 2004. Apart from little sessions with my partner.

My first 20 minute pose - I adopted an easy old standard - one buttock perched n a milk crate, with one leg kneeling and back twisted.

A pleasing arrangement.

I was amazed to find that my thigh muscles have lost so much tone that supporting half my weight was HARD.

My second pose - a 25 minute killer - I STUPIDLY decided to exploit the fat rolls and do a semi reclining odalesque.

NOTE: Never do a semi reclining for more than 15 minutes.

I propped myself up of one forearm - and after 5 minutes realised it was a big mistake. I only trembled for about 10 minutes once the serious cramps set in - before I managed, by slowing my breathes and concentrating on my toes - to enter "the zone" where ...... time ..... just ..... passes.........

Afterwards I felt great (endorphin rush)

I was initially curious to see if having another experience of modelling would change my current thoughts on it (now mostly informed by increasingly distant recollections).

would i get any flashes of enlightenment for the paper I've got to write?

No -I was too much mired in my body, in staying still, in resisting pain and strain in order to transcend myself and soar into the heights of sheer academic brilliance.

bugger.

Interesting how my mind was telling me what poses I could do -or would be comfortable in -and my body was strangely familiar-and yet quite different in them.

i have put on about 10 kgs since I quit modelling and lost a lot of muscle tone.

bugger again.

so where do I reside? do I adjust my mind to the bigger, slower, softer body - or adjust my body to the racy light mind?

I don't think I'm going to produce much brilliance tonight

maybe its time for bed.


I was wondering about looking again. I wrote sotry aobut modeeling for a drawing marathon, where for three days I was completely still and bored out of my brain. I was still except my eyes. Which look at the other students. Discretely, because I’ve learnt to maintain an unfocussed glazed over gaze from portrait modelling. Don’t point your eyes at their eyes, even when you can see that they are looking straight into your eyes. I do this by opening my crows feet and letting my brows and lids fall. It’s only polite. Curiously, I spend a lot of time peeping at the bodies of students, and feeling stupid for looking at a woman’s cleavage, while my breasts are bared. Sometimes the staring turns to perving, because I’m in pain, I’m bored, and thinking about sex is a nice distraction. I’m female so my body isn’t going to betray my thoughts, and I’m queer, so I know how to perve without being seen to do so, or to do so more obviously, if needs be. (I've practices in rooms with mirrors). The young women in front of me looks butch. Gaydar alert. She’s buxom, and tyring to hold her body like set of compass points. She holds her arm straight, sucks her tummy in and sticks her bust out further. Her top creeps up her bared midriff. I stare past. Not oblivious. How many models have looked at me like this while I was drawing in an ill clad manner? With men, you can usually tell. By their eyes. Idiots. She has stretched piercings in her ears that are bigger than her irises. I feel like 4 dark eyes are staring at me. I note the way she rocks her pelvis in her jeans and shifts her weight between her high tops. . God I’m glad I’m a woman sometimes. Don’t look at the four eyes. My eyes move to the wall behind her. Bricks. This banal ping pong continues for 2 days. We never speak, she’s shy like most baby dykes at art school, and has no desire to pet and fuss and possess me like the middle aged middle class women. Back to posing, she struggles with her drawing. She can’t hold her body with that lanky straight edge ease that the young boys manage. Her lines are too heavy, too stiff, too awkward. She has a nervous tick. I remember my own marathon charcoal battles 4 years earlier. There’s a photo of me, hair cropped, charcoal smudged, kicking the wall with my doc’s. But she battles it out. Finally it’s the end. I’ve stuck it out, and can finally robe up and run off. My head throbs, but I check out some of the drawings on route to the back of the room, where I’ll put on my clothes. The women in front of me has produced a formalist outline of my body, pot plants, chair, other objects. On her drawing my head is an outline with a fringe. Faceless. Curiously, she drew my breasts with enormous, erect nipples. This is a fabrication. But a very odd one. Maybe my eyes were boring into my breasts – so she erased them and drew my nipples as eyes glaring back into the viewer? I know from drawing – that meeting a models eyes is awkward and difficult. So maybe she preferred to facialise my breasts rather than my face. Fair enough. But maybe she read my mind.

I've described this part of the anecdote before - because I am still perplexed by the encounter and the drawing. Were my eyes wandering all around the room -and un draweable? Was i pulling terrible faces?
did I stare in an uncomfortable manner?
did she need to make my face a mask?
Was she trying to assert her self over me?
Did she feel an incredibly strng need to efface - the model - as a weird mimesis for the effacement of herslef during the marathon?

dunno

bugger!

Monday, August 29, 2005

Doing the Life Class

I've been trying to work out how I describe my attendance at life cvlasses as 'field work". when I tried to write up my rtecent recollections - all I could think of was pure trivia. I guess it woul;d be ideal subject matter for weblog - I could write short little punchy postings each day and be true to the format. I could even add picture - and meake the whle thing completely self indulgent - a pure artists blog.

but o but - the cringe factor sets in..........Imagine

sunday =- so and so posed - did all these raunchy stirpper style poses. ONe woman left (the I add a drawing of said raunchy pose).

tuesday - so and so posed - room was pretty quiet. I hadn't drawn her beofre -but I've knwn her for ages - we cuahgt up on the goss of muutal firends. Onme old guy offered to drive her to the station. I think she treated his as a filaed pathetic flirter. Attitude. Interesting. My drawings were OK tho.(post OK drawings)

Monday - so and so posed. I hadn't drawnd him for ages. i noticed for the first time he had a really large fat cock. Did lots of expressive hand gestures. I drew the poeple stanidng around drawing. (post drawing of model in rom - shwing my drawing of his genitals)

Wendesdya - so and so posed. they kept talking and interrupting my concetnration. I had a headache and could draw anyway. (post crap drawing)

In all of these trivial reflexive accounts - I am reciting my role as a viewere - as a drawer - and largely using text to legitimise my own view of what whas going on (and writing aobut t after the event). the comments just funciont as captions for the drawings - whihc I'd never show to any one anyway - and...its nt investitagtive wirting, its not serious, ints not empathic. Its reallt problematic.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Ferretting in the Lacuna

I've been interviewing a few people associated with long running sketch clubs in sydney. Last week I travelled up into the northern suburban heartland to interview a 90 years old. He'd discovered art attending life drawing organised by some gay English guy who'd been shipped off to the colonies for sodomy and had set up a sketch club in what would have seemed like a cultural wastelands......that was in the 1920's. Apart form jock straps and ladyshaving things sounded pretty much the same as they are now. Another 90 year old told me that shaving wasn't even mandatory - it just got done by some women because they thought it was proper. (and now its more risque than leaving the full map of tassie.......)

The picutre I'm getting is that private sketch clubs have been the mainstay of much artistic activity throughout the history of twentieth century Sydney. Private sketch clubs on the north shore, in the rocks, haymarket acted as social nodes where artists of various persuasions could gather, draw and talk. In many ways they are comparable to jam sessions among musicians - but often with more heterogeneous participants. There were sketch clubs for the contemporary art society, for graduates of Julian Ashton's, or East Sydney, and others comprising students, models and graduates of each. There were also sketch clubs of nuns, old men, younger men, bored housewives which as the bland sociological labels don't state - included ex students from the Bauhaus, or of Johannes Itten, as well as friends and associates of ex students from George Bell. Sketch clubs have acted as a broad network of contacts, and fanning infuences from various art movements form the 20th century. Skethc clubs have provided employment for models - but especially for many women artists -a form of introduction and graduated apprenticeship in the art world. Students and artists who couldn't be or wouldn't be supported by their families or art patrons - to attedn full time art school or devote themselves to full time practice, have found supportive envirnoment in which to gain some employment, and participate in networks of other arts, models, teachers.

The above may seem a tad scholastic, but I'm trying to provide some evidence for the importance of what may seem as peripheral, anachronistic or amateur activities - particularly in a cultural milleu as small as sydney's (and the art scene here IS SMALL). Aside from life drawing as training, or life drawing as a practice, or life drawing as generation of some genuine soft porno kitsch - the importance of life drawing as a social and cultural activity has really played an important part in the development and sustenance of countless artists in sydney. I beleive it is in the act of coming together, and coming together to engage in a formalised cultural practice that generates the sense of cultural identity. The transmission of knowledge and experience and of providing opportunities for new experiences is a really amazing process to participate in. This is probably why I enjoy teaching art to people who I really don't care for otherwise - because it does create a bridge of visual communication and experience.

I have had connections to many of my interview subjects in the past - as a model, or employee, as fellow artists, or as a drawer, or as an employer. Its been refreshing to hear that this multiplicity of networks and connections has been the experience of many female artists for almost a century. ANyway - I remmeber the last time I modelled for an old widower - who's speciality is soft pretty pictures of mostly female nudes. We've swapped paintings tips (yes the language of painting is PROMISCUOUS enough to allow all sorts of influences to err - cross pollinate - one must think of deleuze here - despite movements or trends) . I hadn't reeally outed myself to him - but he had drawn and painted myself and my partner (separately) on a number of occasions. He showed me a paitning of a sweet, slender, buxom curly headed brunette, and asked if I recognised the model. He was astonished when I didn't. I didn't want to quibble over the breasts (hers are very small) - because I was touched that this was his way of aknowledging my relationship - and it was done with such delicacy and respect.

Anyway - I've interviews 4 subjects in 2 days this week - and am exhausted but excited as well. I'm thinking of reviving the defunct chapter on life class as death class - after speaking to one artist - who has done a lot of work on corpses, and linked medicine and medical training to life classes in drawing and sculpture. I also heard some stories from a model - about posing for anatomy students in exchange for being allowed access to the wet labs - to draw. I also heard another terrible, tragic story about one institutions who used to be very neglectiful of supervising models - and allow heroin addicts to work - and to work while pinned. This institution used to repeatedly employ one female model because she would nod off in a pose and hold it for the full duration of a 3 hour class. One day she overdosed and actually died on the podium and rigormortis has set in by the time they tried to wake her.

This is really horrifying. I guess all the artists would ahve been scarred for life.