modeling job proves painless, enlightening
Stay in the school business long enough and you’ll draw all manner of assignment beyond the basic duties you actually get paid to do.
After 30 years, I figured I’d seen and heard just about everything and performed just about every task imaginable from the really important to the painfully mundane.
Then one recent sunny spring morning, I offered my services as a male model. Now, lest you think this is getting weird, rest assured that it was all perfectly harmless, except that it gave Pam Anderson’s Drawing II class a few good laughs at my expense.
A couple of weeks ago, Pam sent out a blanket e-mail asking for volunteers to pose for the class, and I responded with a smart remark which she somehow construed to be an acceptance. Quickly, I got cold feet. Would I look silly? Would her students, most of whom I know, laugh at me? Would my colleagues on the coaching staff make fun of me? The answer to all of the above was affirmative, but Pam was relentless, and I realized I had no choice. Next thing I knew, I was sitting in a chair atop a table in her Hershey Center classroom, coffee cup in hand, as her 9 students sketched me in charcoal.
Drawing II is one of many very interesting fine arts offerings at Collegiate. “The purpose is to learn to draw from observation, to depict things realistically,” explained Anderson, who has a BA in fine arts from William & Mary and an MFA in painting from Washington University in St. Louis and has been at Collegiate for four years.
“I want my students to develop confidence in their ability to draw, to understand that art takes time and patience, to step beyond the object, and to see things differently. “It’s all about seeing.”
What the Anderson n ine saw, from various vantage points, was a middle aged vision in khaki pants, white shirt, running-theme tie, and a pair of Justins. In other words, boring. They were resilient, however, and made the most of the moment.
Whatever you do, I told them, don’t let Charlie Blair or Michael Brost or especially Rives Fleming know I’m here. All they’ll do is tease me unmercifully. A moment later, Mark Palyo dropped by to pick up the absentee list. “Well, well, well,” he said with a sly grin on his face. “I’d like to have a picture of this.” And then he rushed off to find a camera. My trepidation was all an act, of course, because the experience was totally worthwhile and enlightening, just as I knew it would be.
The period rolled along, and Pam’s students became quiet, seemingly lost in their work. As I settled into a pensive mood and relaxed almost to the point that my vital signs flatlined, the only sounds I heard were charcoal moving across paper. They drew and erased. They struggled with proportion and placement. They labored to position the image of their somnolent yet observant subject comfortably on the page. Art, like any creative endeavor, doesn’t always flow smoothly or easily.
What they were doing was what I hope everyone does each day. In their own way, they were striving to create a work of art, not so much one that will hang in the Louvre but an effort that reflects the best their innate talent, their frame of reference, their diligence can produce. Not a bad way to pass the time…for them or for me.
