As much as I prefer not to play by the rules, I know that they are necessary. Without rules, there is chaos. It will be anarchy and that won’t be good for anybody.
We do not have an art model union at FSU. There is no handbook. But there is an understanding that you must respect the person who is getting paid to shed their clothes for the sake of fine art and higher education. Seems pretty simple to me. Most of the students I encounter get it, too. Anyone who has had Carrie Ann Baade for figure drawing or painting totally gets it because Carrie spent many years as an art model and she is our best supporter. (She also makes her students keep their chemicals covered so that we don’t have to inhale dangerous fumes for hours on end. Like her, I am pretty sensitive and intolerant of bad smells. Put a lid on it!)
Of course, you know something must have happened to prompt me to write about the rules. Yesterday was one of those marathon modeling days for me. First, I had a figure drawing class, then I had Mark Messersmith’s extra-long painting class. (That’s 7 ½ hours for those of you who are counting.) I’ve made it harder for myself because of the challenging pose I chose for the latter class. I think I mentioned in my last post that I wanted to do a pose that would have the majority of the students focusing on my back. Backs are sexy. They have a lot of muscles and contours. And I’m obsessed with my back dimples. I also thought that there are enough painting of my BOOBS for now. Yes, I said BOOBS because everyone paints them so much larger than they appear in reality. It’s like they are obsessed with breasts. (Yes, they are real and they’re spectacular.)
So, it’s really hard. The pose, that is. I have my legs under me, my torso twisted and my neck turned. It looks great, but it feels like a nightmare. Since this is a pose I will do for a couple of weeks, I need a little assistance from the students to get back into it exactly right. Really, I need one student, because having more than one telling me what to do is both annoying and ineffective. (And no, you cannot touch me, so do not even try it.) I vote for my friend Chris to be the official spotter, because he is awesome and has the best view. Just as I got into the pose at the beginning of yesterday’s class, Mark called the whole class to go over to the art department office to gather a delivery of art supplies. Noooooooooooooo!
And there I was, alone and naked with one student remaining. Awkward, right? Oh, it was downright creepy because it was Buzzkill Betty and she said “Oh boy, I get the naked girl all to myself,” in the creepiest voice ever. Yeah, I jumped up, grabbed my robe, and ran for Mark’s office. I’m sorry, but I don’t like that girl’s attitude or aura. Her black soul hangs heavy in the room and it makes me uncomfortable. She seems to enjoy talking about the most depressing things ever. Seriously. Later that evening, out of nowhere and totally unprompted, she starts telling us about some friend of a friend, or something, committing suicide. Why? Why must you always bring us down with your pathetic stories? If you are that sad and in need of attention, please seek professional help. There are people you can talk to at the university.
But wait. It gets worse. She broke the Cardinal Rule of Art Modeling: Do Not Photograph the Model Without Permission. I nearly flipped my shit. There I was, finally in a comfortable zone, listening to relaxing music (a fabulous mix courtesy of my GBF Daniel), forgetting about the pain in my back, and dreaming of warmer weather and a weekend at the beach, when I suddenly see that krazy (yes, with a K) girl holding a camera, about to snap a photo of me — naked.
WTF?
Being a professional, I did not break pose (or wind) to get up and beat a bitch’s ass. Instead, I loudly asked, “OH MY GOD, IS SOMEONE TRYING TO TAKE MY PHOTO WITHOUT PERMISSION?” Her response was “Your face won’t be in it.” To which I replied, “I don’t care. I don’t want my naked body in it.” Absofuckinglutely not. No. No photos of me naked. Ever. If you ask me nicely, and I like you, I may let you take a photo of just my face, so you can get the likeness. Maybe. You have to ask first. Period. If I say no, that’s that. I don’t care if other models let you photograph their naked asses. It’s their prerogative. I’m saying no. That’s that. End of discussion.
She made up some excuse about thinking I once said it was OK, and she finally apologized, but it was too late and insincere. My dear friend Darla is the only one who can take naked photos of me, because she is awesome and would never use the photos to hurt me. No exceptions.
I never want to end on a grumpy note, so here’s a little funny thing I overheard Dani say about Res-N-Gel: “It balls up.” Yes, balls-up makes me laugh. Thank you, Dani — and Joni, Chris, Johnny, Kaelin, Trevon, and the rest of you awesome artists for making the class fun. And for more happiness, a huge congratulations goes to Kaelin for her recent engagement. I am totally jealous of her beautiful ring. She is going to be a gorgeous bride. (Please keep me in mind when you are looking for a wedding photographer, mkay?)
Once more, with feeling. Here are the rules.
- Do not touch the model. Ever.
- Do not photograph the model without permission.
- Do not upset the model.
- Always thank the model at the end of class.
- The model is always right.
Who you callin' chicken?
http://www.anxietyclinic.fsu.edu/
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