Skip to main content

Old Sketches & Drawings of Fellow Art Students, Part Two

Charlotte, 18 Sept 1991
Continuing this excursion down Memory Lane to my art school days oodles of years ago, I'll now share the second batch of my work which captured my fellow students. The charcoal study on rough grey paper is of Charlotte, whose surname I can't remember. I do recall her fondness for boldly-coloured stripy tights, though, which she usually wore with Doc Martin boots.

This economical grey sugar paper was routinely used during drawing classes. If I recall rightly, we students were charged only 2p per A2-size sheet, which was a large part of its attraction. (This was some 30 years ago, remember!)

James Loftus, 25 Jan 1990
This was a group drawing project set by one of the college tutors, Ian Cameron, who asked us to draw the lamp and imply weight and shadow by use of line only. So I'd drawn this boring lamp, which floated in the middle of a sheet of white paper. What else could I do with the lamp drawing, other than twiddle my thumbs for the remaining thirty minutes of this exercise? No matter what, that lamp drawing wasn't going to get any less boring. Or was it? Jim was sitting directly opposite me, busily working away at his own attempt. So he ended up in my drawing. It's not a great portrait by any means, but the memory makes me smile.

Jim went on to study sculpture at Sheffield (?), and still produces art today.

One of The Twins, 22 Sept  1990
There were two twin sisters doing the course, one with very short ginger hair and the other with cascading dark hair. Was one of them named Claire? I can't remember now, unfortunately.  Usually they were just referred to as The Twins. I think they went on to study Fashion and Textiles.

Tony O'Connell (AKA Toc), 18 Sept 1991
Tony loved art school so much he came back as a tutor and stayed for decades. This year his work based on Saint Sebastian was exhibited in London, and he is a co-founder and tutor at the Liverpool Independent Art School at 1 Rose Lane, Allerton in south Liverpool. This charcoal drawing came from a session when the life model had failed to arrive and so we students took turns to pose for each other.

I still have several pieces from this session, usually stored in an A1-size PVC portfolio case bought for art school but rarely used for anything other than storage due to its weight and cumbersome size which made it a royal pain to struggle onto buses then haul up the long stone staircase to the top floor art studios on college. When we students were required to present our portfolios for assessments, then this case had to be used. Still, it's still in use now for storing my old student work.



These two charcoal drawings were both done on 18th September 1991, but I can't recall the names of either of these students.

Angie, c. 1991

Angie, (surname unknown), was one of the two life models regularly employed by the college. This was an informal study of her, possibly on a day when the heating was so poor that the usual life drawing session had to be re-thought.

Billy, with Dave McKay at an easel, 26 Nov 1991
I include this last one even though it's not a particularly good life drawing, but because it completes my theme of sharing drawings of fellow students. In the corner, at an easel, you can see Dave McKay busily working away. While he was a student, he had a part time job as a security guard in St George's Hall, and routinely played his choice of music in the shared art studio rooms - Midnight Oil and Ministry were seemingly his favourites.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Cure for Aging?

"All that we profess to do is but this, - to find out the secrets of the human frame; to know why the parts ossify and the blood stagnates, and to apply continual preventatives to the effort of time.  This is not magic; it is the art of medicine rightly understood.  In our order we hold most noble -, first, that knowledge which elevates the intellect; secondly, that which preserves the body.  But the mere art (extracted from the juices and simples) which recruits the animal vigour and arrests the progress of decay, or that more noble secret which I will only hint to thee at present, by which heat or calorific, as ye call it, being, as Heraclitus wisely taught, the primordial principle of life, can be made its perpectual renovator...." Zanoni, book IV, chapter II, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, first published in 1842. Oroboros keyring - Spooky Cute Designs The idea of being able to achieve an immortal life is probably as old as human life itself.  Folklore and myt...
15 comments
Read more

Remembering Richie Tattoo Artist's Studio

Richard in the street entrance to his tattoo studio in Liverpool. The vertical sign next to Richard is now in the Liverpool Tattoo Museum. Yesterday, my sister Evelyn, Richard and myself stood outside Richard's old tattoo studio and looked up at the few remaining signs, whose paint has now mostly flacked away to reveal bare wood. On the studio's window are stick-on letters which read, "Art", where once it boldly announced his presence as the city's only "Tattoo Artist".  I can remember him buying that simple plastic lettering from an old-fashioned printer's shop. This was in 1993, not long after he'd opened the studio and before he could afford better signs. After he'd patiently stuck them onto the glass we realised that from the outside the sign read "Artist Tattoo", so we had to carefully peel the letters off the window and have another go, laughing over having made such an obvious error yet worried in case we spoiled the letteri...
Post a Comment
Read more

Dear Diary...

Do you keep a diary? Why did you start it, and, if you started one then stopped, why was that? What sort of things do (or did) you write about? I ask as, as a long-time diarist myself, there is an interesting piece in The Guardian today which talks about one woman's diary habit, which she began at the age of fourteen. I started a diary around that age too, but destroyed it after my mother accused me of using cocaine.  A stern scene followed, with both parents perched ram-rod straight in their armchairs, while I was subjected to a heated inquisition. Where had I bought it, and who from? Didn't I know such things led to death and doom? I struggled to decipher their bewildering accusations, until Mum blurted out, "I read it in your diary!" To find my diary, Mum would first have had to rummage through my dressing table, obviously when I wasn't around to protest. Her intrusion on my privacy was assumed by both parents to be acceptable, and now, with this handwritten c...
Post a Comment
Read more