Figure Drawing

My figure drawing professor is ninety years old. He is one of the funniest people I have ever met. He and his stories will be a large part of my ramblings.

On the first day of class he brought out some of his drawings and said "Yall will never be able to do that." The class appreciated his encouragement and ability to see our potential.

The first critique went like this, I pushed two tacks into the top of my 3x4 foot drawing I had been working on for a few hours against the white cork wall. Then joined the class on the other side of the room. Silence, I've found is one of the most uncomfortable noises. There was a lot of that. Then Professor Sella took out a pen and walked over to our drawings. He put a check on the drawings that passed his approval and a large X on the ones that didn't. Mine definitely had a black X on it. Feeling a little depressed by the harsh mark, I was still proud of the drawing simply because I had never drawn a nude model before and I didn't think it was half bad for my first try. I was going to go get my drawing off the wall to add it to my portfolio, Sella ripped it down crumpled it up and took the liberty of throwing it away for me. A few weeks later he said now class I want you to turn in the three drawings you've completed over the semester. Being a smart alec, or a person who is obnoxiously self-assertive and impudent I raised my hand and politely yelled "Sorry, I will only be able to turn in two drawings since you threw my first one away." Never skipping a beat, he just responded "Yeah, well then you turn in two."

His encouragement doesn't come through in positive statements. His way of telling you that he likes your drawing- "Its not bad. But don't get a big head about it." "Who the hell do ya think you are Michaelangelo?" "Don't get fancy with it.'

On a wednesday before class he and I sat on a bench on the third floor balcony overlooking Woods Quad. He looked down at my feet. I had on my cowboy boots, I wear them everyday. "Hey, what kind of boots are those?" "Cowboy" I responded. He reaches over and feels them without seeking my approval "Suede, they're nice." "Thanks." "I like em', they give you a high ass." I walked away.

The model poses in the center of the room and all of the students stand at their easels which surround her in a circle. Sella was absolutely destroying the guys drawing next to me. He was erasing ferociously at what the kid had made. As he erases he likes to remind you “this isn’t right, that line is too dark....yatta yatta yatta.” The guy just stood back while Sella criticized loudly, I started laughing hearing his statements. He immediately stopped, looks up at me and said “Who the hell are you? A cop? Get back to drawing and stop listening to me.”

One day the model was sick, instead of letting us go he walked the entire class down to the Art Gallery. We all wandered around the room stopping at one work then moving on. Once we had all had the opportunity to look at every piece. He asked “Which one do you like?” One guy said “that one” and pointed to an ink drawing. “Why?” Sella asked. “I just like the lines and the composition.” “Yeah, well all it is is lines an you could do that you know.” Another girl expressed interest in a painting. Again Sella questioned her as to why she was attracted to that particular piece. He told us that all art should have the “Aesthetic of Possession” when you see it you should like it so much that you want to own it, you want to wake up everyday in your house and see it in your living room or hang it above your bed. He then walked up to the painting pointed to it and said “This one here, this one I would only hang in my toilet.”

There was a mixed media piece on a pedestal in the gallery. The work was made up of embroidered items and other sewn objects and was called “Woman's work”. There was a sign sitting with the piece that read “DO NOT TOUCH”. He took a quarter from his pants pocket, and placed it on top of the work. He saw me watching him. He winked and then whispered “I’m just showing them, what that piece of shit is worth.”