It's hard to say what possessed me to pose for Jeff Stashe's Drawmania Draw-a-thon. It was probably because I wanted to try something new maybe along the lines of what the main character Leo from Nicole Krauss's A History of Love did for a living (but he did it because of boredom, I'm not sure, and he was over fifty?). My earliest flaunts with the thoughts of posing for figure drawing occurred one year ago when I read stories about models posing for art class. It peaked my interest that anyone would be audacious enough to remove their clothes and stand in front of strangers so that they could drawn. This seems preciously harmly and in fact, benign to any influence because everyone is being maintained by reason and distanced by occasion. Certainly no one from the audience will prance onto stage and molest the models or unfold sexual shenanigans. So it seemed relatively innocent and befitting for someone who has a toned body or has an interesting body shape that will add to the particularities of the human body. Posing for art class has always been the back of my mind not because of its brute honesty and courage that it takes to disrobe but it is actual art of the human body that is showcased once the robe is undone. I also researched figure drawings in NYC so that I could draw some models. But sooner than expected the tables turned and I became the model without even being the artist (not that it should be in a particular order; in fact both roles are not necessarily interchangeable).
Five years ago I began my interest in posing by informing my close friends about my artwork and the building of my portfolio. I used a simple point and shoot camera and shot myself in my room using nothing but my table light. At that time I was living on Bay 35th street which was a semi-private row house type of apartment. My second floor room had a generous window with Venetian blinds that I could tweak to allow light in or to shut light out. In the wee hours of the morning I would let a bit of light hit my back or I would sit on the ledge and act out the pose of Rodin's Thinker. I set my camera up either on a tripod or I lay it next to my keyboard. My apartment was very small before I moved into the city, but it wasn't tiny small. I still had room to walk around and do some crouches or stretches. I would Google images for figure drawing or body poses and I would emulate them. Shortly I found out that I did not have defined-enough abs or a hunkish, muscular body to fit the stereotypical male models who grazed these studio pictures.
I suppose I have heard horror stories about posing nude in front of art students or even finding male models in particular who have interest in doing it. This seems immediately hard to believe considering what I see in magazines are what I consider my reality. But I guess the hunky men are hardest to find, or they just won't be paid less than photoshoot price to bare their abs. I can understand why it is rather stigmatizing or undesirable especially for Asian men to pose; it's because of the stereotype that Asian men have small junk. Therefore any Asian male who poses will be screened upon that stereotyped. It is difficult for me to understand why no one would undertake such a particularly easy task regardless of body type or small body parts (I can say it is easy because I have finished the two hours of posing that night and I was rather thrilled and untouched [not literally]). I was paid fifty three bucks including tips from the drawers. I was such a happy camper that I looked forward to next month's Draw-a-thon. I looked forward to the cash more than the thrill of being cooled under an air conditioner which provoked me to almost get a cold. I do suppose that many women would not pose because of their insecurity, particularly concerning their body or their own image of their body compared to how they should look like in society/fashion magazines. All the complaints about pooch bellies or baby fat or thick thighs or flat chests/not round enough chests seem difficult to understand mainly because I am male and I lack a protruding chest of attention and a flattering hourglass shape to accompany it.
The moment I stepped foot into Otto's I knew that the bar was cozy enough. The back room was where Jeff was preparing the room. He laid out brown paper on the small stage so that the models would not dirty their feet on the original bar floor carpetting. He also taped the Drawmania Draw-a-thon banner on the door and asked the bar bouncer/owner to move the tables and inject more chairs. There was a wraparound sofa-type seat that occupied half of the room and the stage was pretty small, maybe enough to fit five people are spread-arm width. I became intense mostly because I was by myself and I was anticipating what it would be like to stand au naturel in front of a few drawers. I expected there to be no more than twenty artists because usually Facebook events draw in only 70% of people in real life compared to the number who click Attending. But that night the room was packed with at least forty artists armed with sketchbooks. I can't lie: some artists looked suspicious because of their weight and because of their facial features (maybe I compare to villain faces or my archetypes I have constructed for "bad people" which includes defined eyebrows and a certain look in the eyes). These artists slimmed out by the end of 10:30PM and the room had a certain type of ok-air to it. Not everyone was acquainted with each other but that didn't matter because they all drew the models and their pencils were constantly moving over their paper.
It's hard to say what possessed me to pose for Jeff Stashe's Drawmania Draw-a-thon. It was probably because I wanted to try something new maybe along the lines of what the main character Leo from Nicole Krauss's A History of Love. My earliest flaunts with the thoughts of posing for figure drawing occurred one year ago when I read stories about models posing for art class. It peaked my interest that anyone would be audacious enough to remove their clothes and stand in front of strangers so that they could drawn. This seems preciously harmly and in fact, benign to any influence because everyone is being maintained by reason and distanced by occasion. Certainly no one from the audience will prance onto stage and molest the models or unfold sexual shenanigans. So it seemed relatively innocent and befitting for someone who has a toned body or has an interesting body shape that will add to the particularities of the human body. Posing for art class has always been the back of my mind not because of its brute honesty and courage that it takes to disrobe but it is actual art of the human body that is showcased once the robe is undone. I also researched figure drawings in NYC so that I could draw some models. But sooner than expected the tables turned and I became the model without even being the artist (not that it should be in a particular order; in fact both roles are not necessarily interchangeable).
Five years ago I began my interest in posing by informing my close friends about my artwork and the building of my portfolio. I used a simple point and shoot camera and shot myself in my room using nothing but my table light. At that time I was living on Bay 35th street which was a semi-private row house type of apartment. My second floor room had a generous window with Venetian blinds that I could tweak to allow light in or to shut light out. In the wee hours of the morning I would let a bit of light hit my back or I would sit on the ledge and act out the pose of Rodin's Thinker. I set my camera up either on a tripod or I lay it next to my keyboard. My apartment was very small before I moved into the city, but it wasn't tiny small. I still had room to walk around and do some crouches or stretches.
I suppose I have heard horror stories about posing nude in front of art students or even finding male models in particular who have interest in doing it. This seems immediately hard to believe considering what I see in magazines are what I consider my reality. But I guess the hunky men are hardest to find, or they just won't be paid less than photoshoot price to bare their abs. I can understand why it is rather stigmatizing or undesirable especially for Asian men to pose; it's because of the stereotype that Asian men have small junk. Therefore any Asian male who poses will be screened upon that stereotyped. It is difficult for me to understand why no one would undertake such a particularly easy task regardless of body type or small body parts (I can say it is easy because I have finished the two hours of posing that night and I was rather thrilled and untouched [not literally]). I was paid fifty three bucks including tips from the drawers. I was such a happy camper that I looked forward to next month's Draw-a-thon. I looked forward to the cash more than the thrill of being cooled under an air conditioner which provoked me to almost get a cold. I do suppose that many women would not pose because of their insecurity, particularly concerning their body or their own image of their body compared to how they should look like in society/fashion magazines. All the complaints about pooch bellies or baby fat or thick thighs or flat chests/not round enough chests seem difficult to understand mainly because I am male and I lack a protruding chest of attention and a flattering hourglass shape to accompany it.
The moment I stepped foot into Otto's I knew that the bar was cozy enough. The back room was where Jeff was preparing the room. He laid out brown paper on the small stage so that the models would not dirty their feet on the original bar floor carpetting. He also taped the Drawmania Draw-a-thon banner on the door and asked the bar bouncer/owner to move the tables and inject more chairs. There was a wraparound sofa-type seat that occupied half of the room and the stage was pretty small, maybe enough to fit five people are spread-arm width. I became intense mostly because I was by myself and I was anticipating what it would be like to stand au naturel in front of a few drawers. I expected there to be no more than twenty artists because usually Facebook events draw in only 70% of people in real life compared to the number who click Attending. But that night the room was packed with at least forty artists armed with sketchbooks. I can't lie: some artists looked suspicious because of their weight and because of their facial features (maybe I compare to villain faces or my archetypes I have constructed for "bad people" which includes defined eyebrows and a certain look in the eyes). These artists slimmed out by the end of 10:30PM and the room had a certain type of ok-air to it. Not everyone was acquainted with each other but that didn't matter because they all drew the models and their pencils were constantly moving over their paper.
When I met my fellow models who included Cecily who I have only seen once almost two years ago, I knew that I had comfort and I was not the only one who would bare their body in a matter of minutes. When Jeff called for the models to come onto the stage I walked to the stage barefoot and in my Pikachu towel which I turned inside out before anyone would catch sight and laugh at me though I am sure they would find it rather cute or adorable, but not so adorable when I use it to wrap my lower half of my body. I dropped the towel and stepped onto stage with my fellow models who had butterfly wings on and other adornments or feathers on their bodies. One model had her jeans on the whole time and chose to go topless. Dave was my fellow male model who was experienced and was half-ripped. My four fellow female models were very composed and free. The moment I stepped onto stage I was not conscious of my uncovered state as much I thought I would be. I didn't gasp for air or shake my body intensely. I was rather indifferent to the situation and I then considered my situation and understood it completely: the reason why I did not become aroused by my female models were not just because I paid little to no attention to them but it was mainly because it was not the right setting that would induce voyeurism and it was also social setting and environment that made conform to it. Shame and embarrassment would overrun me which would inform my available body if I became aroused and in turn the audience would react. Well, actually the shame and embarrassment occurs because I know that my body has changed and that the audience notices these changes in my body and on my face. The audience is very alert and I suppose they saw how uncomfortable I was or how noobish I was in the first ten ten-second poses we did. The body never lies especially when there are no clothes to hide it or to keep it from view. I sucked in air and kept my stomach flatter which I'm sure informed the audience that I was insecure about my small pooch belly.
I didn't pay attention to my fellow models mostly because I thought it was rude and that I would not keep my head straight in the pose I landed in. For two poses I ended up regretting my position because I picked a bad position to land into and freeze into. I simply could not hold up my body so I ended up twitching or shaking by the very few minutes which I am sure the audience did not really care for because most of my body remained for them to sketch.
The gaze, in a Sartrean sense, is most compelling in this case because the audience were staring up or down at me on stage. I could see male and female eyes running over my body, up and down, up and down, from their drawing pads to my body and back to the drawing pad. I could sense the attentiveness, but there was a certain sense of situation in their eyes that discerned their gaze from that of a voyeur whose gaze is more wide-irised and attuned, one's gaze who is lascivious in nature and hungry for sexual devourment. The audience had gazes of half-film like attention, one that helped them finish their sketches once the twenty minute pose was complete. When I noticed that there were four artsy Asian women in the room I wondered if they would feel shame for me and exclaim in their head, Boy he's got a tiny one, why is he embarrassing himself?! Heck, does he know he's embarrassing himself? God, I hope his friends are not here to witness this." I didn't care because the truth is I did not know these four girls although I did worry for a few minutes that because Asians knew every Asian (generally this is truth), word would spread. But word would spread, not pictures. I don't think anyone (wishful thinking and pictures are banned by Jeff's code) snapped pictures of me so I am happy, I am satisfied. As long as I don't see pictures of myself floating around I am completely fine. People will talk about it but the impact is not as huge as that of a female posing, I suppose, mainly because of the stigma concerning men and female bodies and the sexual connotations surrounding their reasons for shedding their clothes. For men it is less of a negative connotation because men could afford to run around in their birthday suit, but when women shed their clothes they are immediately tagged a slut, bitch, whore, etc. They are assumed to have a purpose. Men are slayed as pervs or pedos but it is not the same kind of derision or condemnment women become inundated with once they remain their clothing.
The whole experience was fun and you bet I washed my feet that night. I did not catch a cold because I had adjusted to the room in time and I got cash in my pocket so the whole thing worked out fine. People knew they were there for a reason which was to sketch and the role of a model was to provide poses for them so the occasion was riveted by purpose. This ousted any kind of horny feelings or inappropriate sexual tension that would be aroused if the occasion wasn't a Draw-a-thon, but instead a bathhouse, which then would not require audience members, you get the point.
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