call.
So one afternoon, when nothing very much was happening at chambers, I went along to his studio in Battersea. I had no idea when I went there that he was one of the most important figurative painters of the second half of the century. The pictures in his studio were mostly of women.
“I’m currently doing two paintings of a standing nude,” he explained. “One is of a blond girl, and you’re going to be the dark girl. Here’s the one I’ve already started.”
The blond girl was looking left, and she was wearing practically nothing.
I was going to be facing the other way, he said, then handed me what he called “a blue dress” that he wanted me to wear. The blue dress turned out to be just a piece of material he had stitched together, almost like a hip-length waistcoat. It was completely open down the middle. The pose he wanted was very straightforward. I had to have one leg out in front and the other behind, as if I had been caught in the middle of a stride. It had never occurred to me that I would be expected to pose naked, or as good as. What could I say?
“Fine.”
During the first few sessions, as I stood desperately trying to hold the pose, I thought,
What on earth am I doing this for?
But at the same time it went through my head that one day I might want my children to know that I wasn’t such a dull-o, bluestocking Goody Two-shoes after all.
To keep me still and engaged, he put pictures of paintings he admired in front of me on another easel, then talked about them. The minuscule amount I know about art was taught to me by Euan Uglow.
A barrister’s work, particularly in the first few years, is very hit-and-miss, so when I didn’t have anything on, I’d ring up Euan and say, “Can you fit me in?” Then I’d go round to his studio. Or I might be at the magistrates court just down the road in the morning and when I was finished, pop over to the studio. He’d give me lunch and talk about what he was doing and why, about the system of plumb lines he used, how the light changed and its effect on my skin and my stomach, and how he saw the different colors. Over the many months I posed for him, we became very fond of each other. Neither of us had much money, so we agreed to make each other Christmas presents. I gave him two tea cozies, which I religiously knitted in two very different patterns. He made me a miniature lectern with a marble base. It was too heavy to take to court, but I still have it.
I really loved him. He was such a gentle, intelligent man, with a lovely smile. After about eighteen months, or even two years, I realized that I just didn’t have the time to continue. Also, Tony had begun to query why I was spending quite so much time with this man.
Not surprisingly, I found it really hard to tell Euan that I had to stop, but in the end I said that I didn’t feel it was fair to him. I was thinking,
He makes his living like this, and he’s wasting time on me, when actually he could be doing a painting of somebody else.
He told me not to worry and that he’d get another dark model to take my place. He had never got round to doing my face, though you could still see it was me. I think he did try to get a replacement, but it didn’t work out, so he decided to leave my painting unfinished. It still exists somewhere, but where I don’t know. I would love to have it, of course, but his paintings are very valuable, even more so now that he’s no longer alive. He died in 2000, and I was very proud to go to his memorial service.
In all the time I was going to Battersea to model for Euan, Tony never knew that I was posing nude. There came a point when I think Derry hinted at it. Possibly Derry had seen it as a work in progress. I don’t know. Either way, Tony, when he eventually learned the truth, was very uncomfortable with it. He still is.
Meanwhile the business of what was to happen when my pupilage came to an end was like a nagging headache that, no matter how many aspirin you
So one afternoon, when nothing very much was happening at chambers, I went along to his studio in Battersea. I had no idea when I went there that he was one of the most important figurative painters of the second half of the century. The pictures in his studio were mostly of women.
“I’m currently doing two paintings of a standing nude,” he explained. “One is of a blond girl, and you’re going to be the dark girl. Here’s the one I’ve already started.”
The blond girl was looking left, and she was wearing practically nothing.
I was going to be facing the other way, he said, then handed me what he called “a blue dress” that he wanted me to wear. The blue dress turned out to be just a piece of material he had stitched together, almost like a hip-length waistcoat. It was completely open down the middle. The pose he wanted was very straightforward. I had to have one leg out in front and the other behind, as if I had been caught in the middle of a stride. It had never occurred to me that I would be expected to pose naked, or as good as. What could I say?
“Fine.”
During the first few sessions, as I stood desperately trying to hold the pose, I thought,
What on earth am I doing this for?
But at the same time it went through my head that one day I might want my children to know that I wasn’t such a dull-o, bluestocking Goody Two-shoes after all.
To keep me still and engaged, he put pictures of paintings he admired in front of me on another easel, then talked about them. The minuscule amount I know about art was taught to me by Euan Uglow.
A barrister’s work, particularly in the first few years, is very hit-and-miss, so when I didn’t have anything on, I’d ring up Euan and say, “Can you fit me in?” Then I’d go round to his studio. Or I might be at the magistrates court just down the road in the morning and when I was finished, pop over to the studio. He’d give me lunch and talk about what he was doing and why, about the system of plumb lines he used, how the light changed and its effect on my skin and my stomach, and how he saw the different colors. Over the many months I posed for him, we became very fond of each other. Neither of us had much money, so we agreed to make each other Christmas presents. I gave him two tea cozies, which I religiously knitted in two very different patterns. He made me a miniature lectern with a marble base. It was too heavy to take to court, but I still have it.
I really loved him. He was such a gentle, intelligent man, with a lovely smile. After about eighteen months, or even two years, I realized that I just didn’t have the time to continue. Also, Tony had begun to query why I was spending quite so much time with this man.
Not surprisingly, I found it really hard to tell Euan that I had to stop, but in the end I said that I didn’t feel it was fair to him. I was thinking,
He makes his living like this, and he’s wasting time on me, when actually he could be doing a painting of somebody else.
He told me not to worry and that he’d get another dark model to take my place. He had never got round to doing my face, though you could still see it was me. I think he did try to get a replacement, but it didn’t work out, so he decided to leave my painting unfinished. It still exists somewhere, but where I don’t know. I would love to have it, of course, but his paintings are very valuable, even more so now that he’s no longer alive. He died in 2000, and I was very proud to go to his memorial service.
In all the time I was going to Battersea to model for Euan, Tony never knew that I was posing nude. There came a point when I think Derry hinted at it. Possibly Derry had seen it as a work in progress. I don’t know. Either way, Tony, when he eventually learned the truth, was very uncomfortable with it. He still is.
Meanwhile the business of what was to happen when my pupilage came to an end was like a nagging headache that, no matter how many aspirin you
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