Wednesday nights are hopping in Tryon. It’s hard to believe
how busy one can be in such a small town, but as I’ve noted before, Tryon isn’t
just any small town.
When I first moved here, I spent many of my Wednesday nights
in Jim Cullen’s pottery class at Tryon Arts and Crafts. Once I changed to some
of the day classes, Wednesday became the night Paul and I often saw a movie at
the Tryon Theatre, as that night marks the beginning of the week for each new
film.
When a small group of women asked me to start a women’s
writing workshop—to duplicate the kind of workshop that started my writing six
years ago in Los Angeles, I said yes, and we picked Wednesday nights to meet.
We started with every other Wednesday, and now meet once a month.
It was on one of those Wednesday nights that Rich Nelson of
Skyuka Gallery asked if I’d like to sit for a portrait class at Tryon Painters
and Sculptors. I said no and cited my writing workshop as a reason, but agreed
to sit the following Wednesday night.
I had sat for artists before, but it had been a long time. I
once posed for a fashion drawing class at the Art Center College of Design in
Pasadena, California. This was sometime in the 80s when I was working as a
model. The job involved striking severe fashion poses on a stage with other
models for long stretches of time in heels holding a boa constrictor (they’re very
heavy and stinky). I felt certain Rich’s class would be less uncomfortable. And
smell better.
I had also posed for a sculptor when a mannequin company in
California made a mannequin who looked like me. That involved several 2-hour
sessions over the course of a month or so at which I was mesmerized by a lump
of clay that gradually evolved into my silent clone. The result of that gig
sits on top of the cabinet in my laundry room. If you’ve got a better idea how
to display a mannequin head of your younger self, please feel free to share it.
Rich assured me I could keep my clothes on. Nude models are
like gold to artists, but the days I’d consider flashing a room full of people
are far behind me.
I arrived at 7 and found my chair in the center of the
downstairs studio at Tryon Painters and Sculptors new Trade Street building.
There were six artists setting up their easels all around me, choosing their
positions carefully.
I knew Rich, of course, and Christine Mariotti and Marie
King—artists I’ve admired greatly. I was introduced to the others as we got
started. Christine collected money from the group for the use of the studio,
plus a tip for me.
I sat as still as I could, finding a fixed point in the room
to watch while the artists began to draw. Some chatted while they worked, but
it was often quiet in a kind of shared camaraderie that I’ve felt while working
in the pottery studio at Tryon Arts and Crafts with my fellow potters.
Rich told me I could take breaks whenever I needed to, so
when we decided to stretch our legs, I walked around the room studying the
portraits so far. They were fascinating—six completely different styles, different
versions of my face, different media. Watercolor, pastels, charcoal. They were
all wonderful and completely unique.
I got back into my chair, finding my pose and point in the
room to watch, and the time passed quickly as the artists finished their work.
Several took a photo of me so they could tweak their portraits at home later,
adding their final touches if inspiration followed them home. Several promised
to email me photos when their pieces had been completed.
I left with a little money in my pocket, a continued awe and
admiration for our local talent, and a sense of how lucky we are to have such
an active arts-nurturing community here.
If you find yourself free on a Wednesday evening, you should
consider posing for the group. If you’re an artist, you might want to join
them. If you’re the model, all you need is a face and a little patience, and
you’ll be rewarded with an experience that puts art and artists in a new light.
I highly recommend it.
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| Portrait by Rich Nelson |
