The original "Conversation of Lines" happened in ancient Greece. The contemporary Conversation of Lines is happening here!

"Why are you drawing that?"

Out of the mouth of babes.

I was at the Nelson-Atkins Museum, sitting in front of the sculpture Standing Bather by Jules Dalou, drawing. I was working, "head down" as they say, concentrating on my work. A young girl of about 8 or 9 approached and asked me The Question.

And I took a moment to think.

It was a question I had in fact been asking myself more or less the entire time I was engaged with this drawing, and I had about a thousand ways I could have answered. First of all, what did she even mean: why was I drawing a nude woman? Or why this sculpture and not the sculpture right next to it - a gorgeous Carpeaux (which by all rights I need to draw as well)? Or why draw just the figure and not include the cloth and the pedestal? Or why draw at all?

I wish I'd asked her to clarify her question. Dammit! In my defense, however, I'm not at my conversational best at the moment right after being ripped out of intense concentration - although I love to discuss art when I'm not preoccupied actually doing it. And this was a young girl, so how deep should I even go with my answer?

The short answer: because I was struck by the gesture of the model: it was so simple and simultaneously graceful yet powerful that I found it simply impossible to overlook. I'd seen this sculpture a hundred times before without remarking on it all that much, but today was the day: I had to draw it!

This was more or less the answer I gave, and the girl nodded in understanding and, it seemed, agreement. [Again, I didn't ask.]

While it's not my favorite motif ("Hey! Let's steal a glimpse of a nude woman at her bath!"), I do love the nude, which I am trying to understand much better in the hopes of improving my figurative paintings, and I was willing to overlook the connotations of a dude drawing a moment in a woman's life when he really shouldn't be there.

But the long answer includes the male gaze, the MeToo movement, the role of the (especially female) nude, opportunities to study the human body for artistic purposes, and a little bit of self-promotion. (I am drawing in public partly to advertise my services as a drawing instructor.)

So here's where I need to be frank: I don't know what the role of the nude is in contemporary art. More to the point, I guess, I haven't decided what role it should play in my own art. When I was studying figure painting at Studio Escalier in France, I felt that the nude was the highest calling in art, and that I had found the subject that would carry through my entire life's painting practice. And there's still a holdover of that idea in my mind.

But recently, I have been questioning my own justifications for painting nude figures (again, especially females) - although I still study the figure though the nude, and I still gravitate to sculptures of nude figures more so than of any other motif.

But what of the sexual overtones, especially within the legitimate framework of feminist critique? Can men paint female nudes without a sexual overtone? Does the implied sexual component disqualify the male artist from depicting the female nude? (What if the man is gay or asexual?) Does the same rule disbar gay men from painting nude men? Lesbian artists, women? Can artists only legitimately paint nudes of the gender that does not appeal to them? May we only paint anodyne paintings of people we swear we're not sexually attracted to? (How do you enforce that!?)

And if I am "studying," what is the legitimate goal I am pursuing: painting nudes? That takes us right back to the questions I've just posed. Am I participating in The Male Gaze and (by reproducing the original image) perpetuating the idea of the "stolen glance"?

I don't know.

Probably.

Maybe.

Is there a definitive answer at all?

Does it even matter?

One thing I do believe: depicting a "stolen glance" of a nude woman in a situation in which the male is not normally invited (such as bathing) feels at least a little bit icky and exploitative and brings up thoughts of Bill Cosby in my mind.

And yet, here's me sitting there, head down, drawing one of these same moments, captured in marble.

Consider this the opening volley.

I'm going to leave these questions for now. I need to inform myself on the role of the nude in contemporary art and read critical responses to it. I admit that I'm lacking the proper critical education on the subject and want desperately to be able to participate intelligently in the conversation. I look forward to writing more on this subject soon - but not too soon. Not before I've informed myself even just a little on the subject.

By the way, if you have thoughts on the role of the nude in art, and/or can direct me to some authors and books to help me inform myself on the subject, please leave a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts and have a discussion about the role of the nude, the sexual implications of artists depicting nudes, and what makes for a successful representation of a nude that avoids the taint of sexual exploitation.