I realise that I have been
writing a substantial amount of theology-babble recently and I have neglected
to talk about progress with the portraiture work and, most importantly, developments
in the working relationship between Leonard and I. On the whole our sessions
have been very enjoyable, due in part to the fact that Leonard is easy to talk
to and he has a mischievous sense of humour that can rival my own at times. For
instance, he takes cuttings from newspaper articles and he edits the headline with
black paint and white corrector fluid so that it reads something amusing or he
will include my name, his name or the name of a celebrity or historical figure.
These cuttings never fail to make me laugh (even though some of them address
serious and tragic events!) and they often relieve the tension that has built
up during a long session.
I have been surprised to learn
that although Leonard lives a fairly reclusive lifestyle, he is conversant in
current affairs and he is familiar with advancements in computing, the internet
and mobile phone technology, but I assume that Luke keeps him informed about these
things. I have also discovered that Leonard is in regular correspondence with a
considerable number of people from numerous countries around the world, as is
evident from the brightly-coloured stamps on his mail. When I enquire about these
letters he will tell me about his travels to visit his friends and
acquaintances and the adventures that he has had exploring these exotic locations.
It is surprising that he makes such a great effort to maintain these
friendships and yet he chooses to spend so much time alone.
On a personal note, I am
learning to relax and feel less self-conscious under Leonard’s analytical eye
and we are establishing a regular working pattern that is helping the sessions to
flow far easier than before. The inevitable drink/food/toilet break has been
polished down to the briefest moment of disruption after which we quickly
recreate the correct position to continue with our work - ‘rest your arm further
down your lap….turn your chair a little more towards me…lift your chin higher’
- after one or two minutes of repositioning then we are good to continue. When
the light gets too bad, Leonard will pack away his drawing board, wash his
hands in the bathroom sink, prepare drinks for us and we will discuss how work
is progressing - which reminds me, on my first visit to Elmfield House I had
wondered why the bathroom sink was stained with a multitude of colours and now
I realise that it has endured many years of cleaning Leonard’s paint-covered hands!
Art is a messy business. Sometimes Leonard’s hands, face and bald head are covered
with a rainbow of colours where he has smudged pastel onto the paper and touched
his face or scratched his head. If he has been using charcoal then he often
resembles a coalminer by the end of a session. Thankfully I avoid the grubby aspects
of our work but the smell of the workroom has permeated so deeply into my
clothes that, even though I wash them in plutonium-grade washing powder, each
time I open my wardrobe at home I am greeted by the strong whiff of turpentine
and paint fumes.
In addition to our work on the portraiture piece, Leonard is once again taking
photographs of me. Most of the photos are deliberately posed, but occasionally
he will catch me by surprise for a candid shot or he will focus on one minor
aspect of my clothing that has fascinated him (he took one particularly
striking photo of the glass buttons that are sewn onto my best lace top). One
of my favourite photographs took an entire afternoon to set up for only a few
seconds of camerawork. It is a half-profile shot with my hair tied high against
the back of my head and a few tendrils of hair falling down onto my shoulders. The
lighting makes me look rather sickly but that only adds to the overall charm of
the picture. When I look at the prints that Luke brings to the sessions a few
days later I am reminded of the date, the weather, the topic of conversation in
the workroom and even the thoughts that passed through my mind upon the very second
that the camera shutter clicked. But, in the case of this particular
photograph, all that I can recall is the tightness of the choker around my
throat.
When we are not working or
talking about work, we are usually eating or preparing lunch. The kitchen
cupboards are fully stocked with jams, cakes and biscuits and there are always yoghurts,
cheeses and cold meats for sandwiches in the fridge, but strangely – and
somewhat frustratingly at times - Leonard never has a ready supply of staple food
items such as bread and milk. The bread bin is stuffed full of Cadbury’s
chocolate bars and Leonard insists that since we are situated near to Bournville
and the Cadbury estate then he is not being greedy but rather ‘contributing to
the local economy’, which always makes me laugh. On one occasion Leonard asked
me to name my favourite dessert and - without giving it much thought - I
answered ‘profiteroles’. In hindsight I wish that I had given more
consideration to my reply as he has since acquired a habit of stocking the
fridge with mountains of profiteroles in preparation for my visits. We eat a
box of them between us at least once a week and this has become such a regular
occurrence that I have warned him that he will need to buy a wider canvas for
my portraits in future!
There is often an odd smell
lingering in the kitchen from a meal that Leonard has cooked the night before
and he will save any leftovers in the fridge in case Luke and I get peckish the
next day and fancy scavenging for scraps. I regularly find half-opened bottles
of wine in the workroom if Leonard has entertained a visitor on the previous
evening and Leonard will save the remaining wine so that we can finish it off
together (I have developed a taste for his beloved Armagnac too and I’m always
happy to join him in a glass at the end of a long afternoon). Thankfully
Leonard has accepted that I will not be converted to a fellow tea or coffee addict
and so he is storing large crates of orange juice under the kitchen sink
especially for my visits, but he has, however, convinced me to sample a
concoction of herbal teas that he assures me will aid concentration and help to
combat fatigue.
My payment for our work is always in cash and although I insist that
payment is not necessary since Leonard provides a generous lunch and the
improvements to my self-confidence are more than adequate recompense alone, he usually
stuffs a plastic bag of pound coins into my coat pocket when I am out of the
room or he has an elaborately decorated brown envelope that he will demand that
I take from him before leaving the house (his methods of payment are becoming
more inventive and elaborate by the week). He is such a sweet man and he is always
complimentary, deeply respectful and infuriatingly apologetic, but the most
remarkable thing about our friendship is this: I have anticipated for some time
now - and with a sickening dread - a request for a nude shot, but I doubt that
it will come. Leonard is evidently not disposed to befriending young women with
a view to asking them to strip off, which is a welcome surprise given the disturbing
anecdotes that I have heard about this profession.
Although I am completely at
ease in Leonard’s company, I find Luke’s presence at our sittings to be disruptive
and it is difficult to explain why this is the case. Luke’s personality changes
dramatically by the day and this often dictates the mood in the workroom;
sometimes he is extremely charming and approachable, full of heart-melting
smiles and a pleasure to spend time with, while on other occasions he can be terribly
aloof, his face falls into the most solemn frown and he simply slouches in the
cream leather armchair, awaiting his turn and wallowing in a grumpy, Byronic
fog of melancholy. Most days he will just take a book from the shelves and sit
reading in a corner of the workroom like a patient passing the time in a
doctor’s waiting room until it is his turn to take the chair. He is
particularly fond of the works of the seventeenth-century poet John Donne and
Leonard has taken account of this by incorporating quotations from Donne into
his sketches of Luke. There is, for example, a wonderful sketch of Luke in a
wooden frame on the table in the workroom at the bottom of which Leonard has
written the following verses from Donne:
‘Death be not proud, though
some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for,
thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st,
thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet
canst thou kill mee.’
Leonard tries admirably at
times to prompt a conversation between the three of us and when he is
successful the atmosphere in the workroom becomes quite animated and we have the
most fascinating discussions, but if Luke is in a dour mood then he can be very
standoffish and I detect a hint of condescension in his voice as though he
considers himself to be superior to me. I suspect that the intensive nature of
the environment in which we most of spend our time together is largely to blame
for this impression, as well as the fact that Leonard requires Luke to wear
formal attire for their work (waistcoats, smart jackets, shirts etc) and he
resembles an elegant Victorian gentleman most of the time, so I feel quite the
philistine in comparison! I am also acutely aware that I find Luke to be extremely
attractive and consequently I may be paying particularly close attention to his
behaviour and reading nuances into his words that would barely raise an eyebrow
coming from anyone else...
So there we are; a portrait of me and my artist. Apologies for the hotchpotch nature of this post but I am writing as the points occur to me. No doubt there are many other strange quirks and rituals from the workroom that I will remember throughout this afternoon but for now, much like Leonard’s wines, I’m sure they will keep for another day.
