AN “OPEN STUDIO” FOR a painter, that is, an organized group that pays a model to sit, is a cherished opportunity for “painting from life” the human figure, clothed or not. The benefits always outweigh the demerits, but herewith I look at both.
For a start, few painters can afford to hire a model, or have a studio space that is civilized enough to bring someone in to sit for a few hours. I once met a talented young painter, now in his senior year at an art college, who decided to brand himself as a painter of geometrical, lumber-like scenes. He was very good at painting the human figure, except one thing: “I can’t afford to pay a model,” he said.
Some painters do have such a set-up, but probably the fortunate few. The remaining options are usually two: take classes at an art college or department—with an extra-curricular model sessions—or seek out a local open studio, informally organized in a municipal art center or commercial atelier. One trend is to have a “model night” at local bars (usually near art schools)—paint, and then imbibe!
In my area, the Maryland-D.C.-Virginia quadrant, many options are on offer. In the end, however, each of us must consider a key logistic—travel time and “traffic.” I have argued with my California relatives whether the Greater D.C. area has worse traffic than Los Angeles or the San Francisco Bay Area. The studies, I contend, are on my side: the D.C. area is most congested.
Is it worth being rattled by 2-3 hours of traffic to paint 2-1/2 hours from a live model? The typical span is 3 hours, but with set up and breaks, you may have less than 2 hours of real painting. The cost-benefit analysis is always a tough call. Youth and ambition may help overcome the obstacles (damn the traffic, full speed ahead!). But in my experience, it is usually us older folks who have the time to attend open studios (except around a college art department).
Organizers are often challenged to sign up the models, or to have enough variety so you are painting men and women, younger and older, and of different characteristics. Due to this challenge, many open studios have the same model for 4-6 weeks. For the painter who wants to do a masterpiece, that gives the time necessary. I suspect, however, that most painters go to open studios to stay in practice, or execute alla prima (all at once) works. The same model for four or five weeks may be a disincentive.
We’ve all seen pictures of the open studios at the historic Students Art League in New York City. There they are, perhaps fifty or sixty painters crowded into a room, trying to see the distant model over each other’s shoulders, or around each other’s easels. Even in small local situations, the same can prevail.
At one excellent venue—excellent because a young woman in local theater recruits local amateur actors as models—the crowding can be similar. The general rule is that, those who are going to paint for four sessions, get to pick the best spots on Day 1. Those who do not aim for such long-term work get whatever spots remain.
In other words, open studios require a certain etiquette. First is that once a painter claims a spot, everyone respects that, at least into the next session (and absence opens up new bids to take it!). The other etiquette is to try not to crowd another painter, or block their view, especially if you come late and set up late. I’m always surprised how often this happens.
I’ve probably painted about 50 times at open studios. In every case, the models are superb in their job of holding still, maintaining a gesture or expression. They are also very pleasant people.
What happens sometimes, however, at very a “gabby” open session, is that some painters carry on loud conversations or even monologues as others try to concentrate. Music is usually used to fill the emptiness, or discourage loud conversations. Even so, some painters may start conversing with the model, getting too personal. The good intentions are, perhaps, to make the model feel comfortable. But it can get awkward. An open session should not be one garrulous person’s parlor or a counseling office.
Finally, and perhaps most important, is the lighting situation. Models are best painted if there is a clear directional light and contrasting background. Depending on the room, this can be complicated. In some venues, the model is at the front, the painters in a half circle around. Others put the model in the center, so there is space for painters on all sides, including the back.
Either way, it can be hard to do a good painting if light is in your eyes or there is no light on your palette and canvas. Try painting when looking straight at the sun (or a studio light). This is often the case, however. Many settings have full windows and, on sunny days, even curtain or blinds can’t stop throwing a bright background behind the model (which, as the physical eye functions, darkens the model’s face and figure, not to mention your palette and canvas).
Similarly, to accentuate the light on the model, the ceiling lights of the room is virtually turned off. It’s hard to see what you are doing at your easel. For the first problem, you just count your lucky stars that you don’t get a spot facing the bright windows or klieg light. The second has an easy solution: clip a light on your easel to illuminate your pallet paint and painting.
What would we do, nevertheless, without such opportunities? The answer: What we often have to do—paint from photographs of people, which is really not a bad alternative, though it lacks the mystique of “painting from life.”