The perspective of a figure-drawing model: Our bodies are works of art

Original drawing by John Singletary

A single lightbulb casts precise shadows over my outstretched limbs. I hear nothing but the scratches of charcoal on drawing pads and the occasional pencil dropping. I do nothing but breathe.

I didn’t sign up to pose half-naked in front of my classmates because I felt adequate, or because I thought it would bring any sort of satisfaction. I wanted to know what it felt like to show my skin and feel human without the sexual connotations and assumptions typically associated with bare body parts. I wanted to be seen as a work of art as opposed to an object of sexual desire, subject to the predispositions of a sex-driven culture. Most of all, I wanted to break free of my personal insecurities, to come out of the shadows. I figured the best way to do this was to expose myself.

I am an object in the drawing studio, no different than the boxes or vases students sketch in preliminary drawing courses. This is not to say that I am being “objectified,” at least not in the sense of that word we typically associate with human bodies. The objectification I feel is strangely empowering, because the sexual connotations of my being are removed entirely. My hips are studied in relation to the angle of my torso. My legs are the support system of a more complicated structure, like that of a table or chair. My arm is this distance away from my head, which is that distance away from my chest. I am a math equation. A fleshy, bare, glorious puzzle with birthmarks and rough edges, and I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed of it.

Of course, my feeling this way would not be possible without my classmates. They were required to view my body as a biological map—as something to be neutrally studied and admired. Some might call it an optimistic fantasy, but my hope is that others would be able to feel such freedom in settings where their peers are not strictly required to be respectful and supportive. For this to happen, we would need to collectively view one another's bodies as shells. As containers for the soul, inherently deserving of respect and reverence. A biological phenomenon that is beautiful simply because it exists.

Being a figure-drawing model has allowed me the freedom to feel vulnerable, expressive, and respected all at once, which is what I hope to see within our culture at large. A human’s choice of dress has never been the problem. The problem is the widely accepted notion that bodies are strictly sexual entities. Viewing bodies as art forms can create space for people to be expressive in authentic, mature, and educational ways, both inside and outside the drawing room. This is not to say that we should dress frivolously on every occasion, or that we should run around near-naked because it’s “freeing.” I still think there are appropriate and inappropriate times to use one’s body to be expressive, and making that call is often necessary for being taken seriously in professional settings. I'm proposing, instead, that a mere shift in mindset can turn something “shameful” into something quite beautiful, and that, perhaps, a collective shift in perspective can free many of us from feelings of shame or inadequacy.

I don’t expect to change much on my own. The struggle for respect requires a depth of change beyond owning one’s sexuality or expression of body. Although a body can be a powerful tool for change, it cannot alone address the complexity of the objectification of humans. It begins and ends, rather, with equipping society to think, to question, and to wonder beyond their personal convictions, and default to respect over judgment.

Published by the Baylor Lariat on September 5, 2018

http://baylorlariat.com/2017/09/05/the-perspective-of-a-figure-drawing-model-our-bodies-are-art-not-objects/

*This article received first place in column writing at the 2018 Texas Intercollegiate Press Association