Saturday, July 05, 2003
FULL BODY CAST, Sex and Lies continued...
The artist/model relationship developed slowly. I asked if I could bring Erika with me that first time he wanted to use my feet as a model for a stone piece he was carving. He agreed, so late one afternoon she and I went over to his Melcher Street studio.
It would have been difficult for him to use a life model in the traditional way artists use models. Stone carving is arduous and Robin worked at irregular hours. It would have been physically excruciating for the model and expensive to hire a professional to sit or lie in a fixed position in front of him whenever he felt like working. He had a method where he would make plaster casts from the live model of the body part he wanted to use, then he would make a mold. From the mold he'd cast a plaster three dimensional version which would then serve as his model - at his beck and call - when needed.
Erika was shy but Robin was patient. He explained his process and that he wanted to make a cast, in plaster of mommies feet. I hadn't had plaster on my body since art school when we made life masks in my only sculpture class. It's tricky stuff to work with from adding just the right amount of water, making sure that any exposed hair has been liberally covered with vaseline (more than one girl accidently lost an eyebrow or eyelashes and it didn't tickle). After mom, Erika wanted to try it and Robin complied. We made a cast of her right hand and foot which I still have sitting on a coffee table in my living room today.
That first experience was perhaps a test, an experiment to see if I was open to bigger things. Our mutual sexual attraction was becoming more intense. I would visit his studio after work, we'd drink wine. There was always tension until that moment of touching and then all was lost. There was never any question, any negotiation, we both knew exactly what we wanted. Oral sex became a powerful tool for both of us. He would talk about his desire to crawl inside me to be absorbed by me and I wanted to cannibalize him, to eat his flesh, to breathe him in. It was delirium. I'd had a lot of sexual experience, but none to compare with this. It is difficult to explain, unless you've been there. He had the most beautiful penis I'd ever seen. I loved to watch it move from it's relaxed but still impressive state to full erection. I photographed him.
At some point he told me about a special piece of stone he'd ordered from a quarry that he'd used before. It was of a certain shape and size and he wanted to do a reclining nude. He rarely did full figures, more often fragments. In this case he wanted to focus on the torso. He asked if I'd model for it. I agreed, but I was oddly self conscious. In a seduction, you can wear make-up and use clothes to lure and by the time you're on the floor or in bed it's usually dark or there is candlelight and the intensity of the moment to obscure physical deficiencies. You can imagine yourself to be beautiful, especially if your lover makes you feel adored. In reality, though I played a game of confidence, I thought my unadorned body left much to be desired. Those years of my mother telling me I was either too fat or too thin or too much make-up or not enough make-up left a mark. Not to whine about it, that's just what happened.
The day we made the date to do the cast I was nervous. He told me to shave as much bodily hair as possible (to aviod pain as described above). He sensed my insecurity and made love to me so I'd relax. Then we set to work. He instructed me on how to position my body. The neon lights in his studio burned bright. No place to hide now. He began by slathering vaseline on the most tender areas, then mixed the plaster and started smoothing it on me in layers, working very quickly. I had to remain motionless. If the plaster cracked prematurely or in the wrong place it would ruin the mold. The feeling of being captive in plaster as it heated up added a new and intense sensuality to the moment. Robin was fully in charge. I wanted the cast to turn out right. It wasn't too long when he decided the plaster had set and he could free me. It was hard for me to tell if it was good or not until he made the positive 3D version. He said it looked good.
A few days later the stone had arrived from the quarry. I went to the studio. There on the floor was a body I did not recognize. It was lovely, it could not possibly be me. He assured me it was indeed me. He used this model to carve one of the most successful pieces he had ever carved in stone. I think we were both very proud of it. Ultimately it was purchased by a curator from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to adorn the lobby of an office building in Harvard Sq.
The artist/model relationship developed slowly. I asked if I could bring Erika with me that first time he wanted to use my feet as a model for a stone piece he was carving. He agreed, so late one afternoon she and I went over to his Melcher Street studio.
It would have been difficult for him to use a life model in the traditional way artists use models. Stone carving is arduous and Robin worked at irregular hours. It would have been physically excruciating for the model and expensive to hire a professional to sit or lie in a fixed position in front of him whenever he felt like working. He had a method where he would make plaster casts from the live model of the body part he wanted to use, then he would make a mold. From the mold he'd cast a plaster three dimensional version which would then serve as his model - at his beck and call - when needed.
Erika was shy but Robin was patient. He explained his process and that he wanted to make a cast, in plaster of mommies feet. I hadn't had plaster on my body since art school when we made life masks in my only sculpture class. It's tricky stuff to work with from adding just the right amount of water, making sure that any exposed hair has been liberally covered with vaseline (more than one girl accidently lost an eyebrow or eyelashes and it didn't tickle). After mom, Erika wanted to try it and Robin complied. We made a cast of her right hand and foot which I still have sitting on a coffee table in my living room today.
That first experience was perhaps a test, an experiment to see if I was open to bigger things. Our mutual sexual attraction was becoming more intense. I would visit his studio after work, we'd drink wine. There was always tension until that moment of touching and then all was lost. There was never any question, any negotiation, we both knew exactly what we wanted. Oral sex became a powerful tool for both of us. He would talk about his desire to crawl inside me to be absorbed by me and I wanted to cannibalize him, to eat his flesh, to breathe him in. It was delirium. I'd had a lot of sexual experience, but none to compare with this. It is difficult to explain, unless you've been there. He had the most beautiful penis I'd ever seen. I loved to watch it move from it's relaxed but still impressive state to full erection. I photographed him.
At some point he told me about a special piece of stone he'd ordered from a quarry that he'd used before. It was of a certain shape and size and he wanted to do a reclining nude. He rarely did full figures, more often fragments. In this case he wanted to focus on the torso. He asked if I'd model for it. I agreed, but I was oddly self conscious. In a seduction, you can wear make-up and use clothes to lure and by the time you're on the floor or in bed it's usually dark or there is candlelight and the intensity of the moment to obscure physical deficiencies. You can imagine yourself to be beautiful, especially if your lover makes you feel adored. In reality, though I played a game of confidence, I thought my unadorned body left much to be desired. Those years of my mother telling me I was either too fat or too thin or too much make-up or not enough make-up left a mark. Not to whine about it, that's just what happened.
The day we made the date to do the cast I was nervous. He told me to shave as much bodily hair as possible (to aviod pain as described above). He sensed my insecurity and made love to me so I'd relax. Then we set to work. He instructed me on how to position my body. The neon lights in his studio burned bright. No place to hide now. He began by slathering vaseline on the most tender areas, then mixed the plaster and started smoothing it on me in layers, working very quickly. I had to remain motionless. If the plaster cracked prematurely or in the wrong place it would ruin the mold. The feeling of being captive in plaster as it heated up added a new and intense sensuality to the moment. Robin was fully in charge. I wanted the cast to turn out right. It wasn't too long when he decided the plaster had set and he could free me. It was hard for me to tell if it was good or not until he made the positive 3D version. He said it looked good.
A few days later the stone had arrived from the quarry. I went to the studio. There on the floor was a body I did not recognize. It was lovely, it could not possibly be me. He assured me it was indeed me. He used this model to carve one of the most successful pieces he had ever carved in stone. I think we were both very proud of it. Ultimately it was purchased by a curator from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts to adorn the lobby of an office building in Harvard Sq.
