Life Drawing at 40 Winks

Last Wednesday was wet, the rent was due and I had just learnt that the boat containing me and a casual but charming fling had crashed into a vicious stretch of rocks. I was as negative as an electron on a comedown.

Waiting at the end of the day like an ocean of tranquillity was Life Drawing at 40 Winks: ‘the most beautiful small hotel in the world’ (according to German Vogue) and venue  I’m most likely to write about.

So at 8pm, holding a cardigan over my head as protection from the rain, I knocked on the door where David greeted me with his customary ‘hello darling’. His long frame was dressed in a top hat, a blazer and a kilt,

As I changed into some fluffy slippers and chatted to Michele Scarr, manager of East London’s Bordello and provider of the evening’s models, life swung round from bleak drama to frothy comedy.

It only got better as I went downstairs where the table was laden with snacks including thick, tasty taramasalata and Moroccan hummus. Never one to skimp on alcohol, David had provided two types of gin-based cocktails and an arsenal of wine. Within moments I was chatting to Clemmie, a delightful set designer for Spoken Ink.

As the room filled up, I also met two artists, one of whom I fell into a hilarious role play with. The delightful and preposterous pretence that we had grown up together by The Old Barn would last the whole night. Just what the doctor ordered.

After a warm buzz had been generated and David’s cosy kitchen was full to bursting, the master of ceremonies called order to ‘artists, piss artists and you untalented ones’. He then doled out drawing pencils and paper, with a tiny scrap attached telling us which of the three model-inhabited rooms to head to.

First port of call for yours truly was The Green Room. Here honky tonk music played interlaced with a soundtrack of spooky laughter. The flash of cameras provided most of the light and on a black divan lay a beautiful girl. A black satin robe casually exposed black knickers with black evening gloves and black knee high socks blending into the general gloom of the scene. Out of her cupid’s bow mouth stuck a cigarette holder that stretched all the way to her bent left knee. A Cruella DeVil blonde streak on her cropped black hair provided a dash of insouciance that also radiated from her general being. The soft sound of lead on paper was the only noise to come from the ten or so members of my team, all of whom were demonstrating extreme competence in the field of drawing.

After about half an hour, David appeared to tell us we would break for 15 minutes before heading to the next room which could be found on the other side of our scrap. ‘Meet me in the bedroom’ said my scrap. It was a sign of my tender state that this instruction caused excitement.

Drinking and boisterous chatting ate up the break and then it was upstairs to where the second model sat, topless, on a bed with pompadour curls, cotton pantaloons and an apple balanced in the curve of her palm. Classical music played and for the first time in the evening, I took stock of how dramatically much better I was feeling. This crescendo of gratitude continued to rise as, 45 minutes later, I walked into the final room and saw Justin, a new artist friend, give me a grin that could only be described as conspiratorial.

You  have to be in a state of heightened turmoil – or maybe broken down by an enforced viewing of Beaches – to appreciate how brilliant it is when people smile at you but given that the former applied, I sat there glowing before turning my attention to model three, a stunning blonde with asymmetric hair wearing only the sheerest of knickers. When I entered the room she was lying on the floor but she soon rose to a kneeling position and began singing backed by a solemn girl on the piano.

We’re used to naked people behaving like porn stars but having a motionless, basically naked, girl in front of you doing nothing to manipulate desire is a step up from sexual, it’s beautiful. Artist I am not, but it was fun to have a go at capturing our aesthetic design in the inimitably calm and creative environment of David Carter’s 40 winks.

The evening was rounded off by David awarding a bottle of Hendricks gin to the best drawing and I was delighted to see the tasty booze going into the talented hands of Justin Clark. I got the tube home in the company of Katherine, a new friend, who gushed to me about the evening  confirming that it’s not just the overwrought who feel the love at David’s dos. Everyone does. Go.

Life Drawing will take place again on November 11 and December 16 at:

40 Winks
109 Mile End Road
Stepney Green
E1 4UJ

Tel: 020 7790 0259

Tickets cost £25 and include drinks, nibles and drawing materials.

Image courtesy of Paula Harrowing