An awkward first day at Art College

It was about sixty-five years ago, but I doubt I shall ever forget my very first day at Art College.

 There were about a dozen of us who arrived that morning; our only common denominator being the fact that we could draw well and had proved it by passing the pretty rigid exam to get into the place, all of us from different walks of life and different parts of Bristol, it was after all the Royal West of England College of Art, a place with an enviable record for turning out students as teachers, fine artists, lithographic printers, sculptors and graphic designers (or commercial artists as they still tended to be called in 1949).

Some of the courses were to degree standard; the college was in fact the art division of Bristol University, but ours was just a diploma course for the NDD (National Diploma in Design). That didn’t bother me at all, I didn’t consider a degree to be a necessity for a life in graphics, all I wanted to do was to pick up some new skills, so that I could get a decent job in the industry.

Anyway, I digress, as they say! The first thing we all had to do was fill out a whole stack of forms (can you get anywhere in education or government without filling in all those meaningless forms?), giving our addresses, age, date of birth, religious leanings, parents details, etc., etc., etc. Then we were taken into a side room where the basic rules of the college were explained to us, and the point made that we were no longer ‘at school’, where you had to study what you were told to study; this was college and we were reckoned to have come there because we genuinely wanted to learn something.

Therefore it was entirely up to us if we wanted to miss classes, or not work hard while there, they were prepared to work very hard to teach us the basics of art and design, he said, but if we didn’t want to learn – well that was up to us. Then we were told our first class was to be life drawing (whatever that was supposed to be), in room two on the ground floor and the teacher was ready and waiting there for us, so off we all traipsed.

Room two turned out to be large and airy with floor to ceiling windows all along one wall, some sort of stage about two metres square in the centre and a row of what we later learned were called ‘donkeys’ set out in a semi-circle round that centre plinth. Our teacher, Mr Paige, welcomed us and told us to select a ‘donkey’ and be ready with paper, pencils and drawing boards for the morning’s work. We did as we were told and, as nothing much else seemed to be happening at the moment, we started talking quietly amongst ourselves, finding out names, where people were from and how we’d got to college. Mr Paige just stood quietly in a corner by the door, saying nothing, and letting us get on with our quiet chatter.

Then, after about ten minutes a tall girl came into the room, quite average looking and dressed in a long overcoat, not someone any of us took much notice of, she seemed to have come in just to have a quiet chat with the teacher.

Boy! We were very wrong in that supposition!

The girl suddenly walked across the room to the central plinth, got up onto it and dropped the overcoat she was wearing, and it was at that moment that we young boys saw something none of us had ever seen before – a naked girl! Shocked and embarrassed we all, as one, ducked down behind our boards on the donkeys and started sharpening pencils, arranging paper, in fact doing anything but look at her!

She sat down on a chair placed there for her and Mr. Paige said something like,

“Right, I want you all to do a pencil drawing of Jean here, life drawing is one of the most important lessons you will have; it is ideal for making us aware of proper proportions, etc., and is the basis of most good art. Get on with it boys, I’ll stroll around and see how you’re getting on, and I’ll offer suggestions if I feel you need any.”

I’ve always felt, after that very first lesson in art, that the fact it was a life drawing class was just so the teacher could have a bit of fun at our expense! I’ve now seen so many naked women in art classes that I no longer see them as anything more than just another subject to draw – just as well perhaps!

Can you top Brian’s embarrassing first day of classes?