What a treat to see over 30 Lucian Freud etchings in one place; it's like seeing a bunch of old friends.
Leigh Bowery gave me several books of Lucian's work before I started sitting for him. I pored over them and was thrilled to meet most of the sitters in 'real life', working out how they related to, or knew one another. I have often compared Lucian's exhibitions to Tracey Emin's tent, but instead of 'Everyone I Have Ever Slept With' they should be called 'Everyone I Have Ever Known'.
I sat for two of the etchings that appear in this collection; the first one came about entirely by accident.
Lucian was halfway through painting 'Sleeping by the Lion Carpet' when I begged him to let me go to the Fondation Maeght in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, which was staging an exhibition of works by Freud and Bacon.
He gave me strict instructions to stay out of the sun, as any change to my skin colour would ruin the painting he was in the middle of.
There was a large crowd of people staying in the same hotel for the exhibition, including several of Lucian's daughters and some collectors. There was also a large pool and, as I loved swimming, I couldn't resist getting in but I covered myself with very strong sunscreen.
In the early evening I sat under a tree wearing a low-front top chatting to a couple of people;
when I went to my room I was shocked to see that my décolletage was a rather angry shade of red. I rubbed some cream on it in the hope that it would go away. Of course, it didn't.
I returned to work at Lucian's a couple of days later ensuring that I was well covered up as I wanted to delay the moment he found out. I was hoping he might not notice which was rather
ridiculous as he could spot one streak of mascara on an eyelash. As we went into the studio I slowly removed my clothes, his eyes almost popped out of his head and he rushed back to the kitchen.
I heard him shouting down the phone at his daughter, Bella, as if it was her fault. He said
she should have kept an eye on me. He came harrumphing back into the studio and then said while pointing at my chest, "I'm going have to do an etching while THAT fades away".
I was secretly thrilled as I knew it was tradition to give the sitter an etching, but at the same
time I was disappointed in myself. Although I like to think I am well behaved, some small rebel gene inside me had escaped yet again and I had let myself get burnt.
Lucian loved the mystery and chance and not knowing what they would look like until they came out of the press.
Sure enough, when the etching was finished he gave me one. Although he had used the same pose as 'Sleeping by the Lion Carpet', he had left out the chair so I just looked like a huge barrage balloon floating in space.
I loved having the etching on my wall and it was later joined by another one, 'Woman with an Arm Tattoo'. It was strange that he featured the tattoo as when he painted me he had covered it in flesh-coloured paint so he didn't have to look at it as it jarred his eyes. I always felt that the etchings were slightly incongruous in an ex-council flat in Camden Town.
It was great to be able to study them in great detail as the more you look, the more you find. Lucian only took up etching in 1982 after a brief experimentation in the 1940's. They are much harder to produce than drawings as the artist scratches them back to front and the thickness of the ink depends on the depth of the scratch on the copper plate. The background then depends on how cleanly the copper plate has been wiped before printing.
Lucian loved the mystery and chance and not knowing what they would look like until they came out of the press. You can see all the changes in the drawing where Lucian was not happy with the first attempt.
Studying 'Woman with the Arm Tattoo', you can see that Lucian has noticed all the multiple piercings in my ear. I am a little disturbed with the way my nose looks like its squashed into my face, but he has captured the bump that both my sister and brother have as well as me.
As I've always lived above my means I forgot to pay my council tax so ended up with the bailiff at my door. I had the money to pay him but before we went to bank, he insisted on going round my flat pricing up my possessions. When I told him the value of the etching he just screwed up his face in disbelief and went on to ask the cost of my electric kettle.
After a few years my spending overtook my income so I had no choice but to sell one of my etchings. I would miss it, but I'm not a sentimental person and luckily I sold it to one of my friends who only lived round the corner so I could go and see it whenever I liked. Several years after he bought it, he had a big tax bill and was forced to sell it too. He made a good profit so kindly paid for me to go to Cape Town with him. In a bizarre form of serendipity the etching, which had been made because of an accidental sun tan, ended up allowing me to soak up the sun for a full week as I no longer worked for Lucian.
I love that there is more than one copy of the etchings and that they are affordable compared to Lucian's paintings. They pop up all over the place and friends are always sending me photos when they have seen them. Recently, etchings of me and Leigh were next to each other in New York's Met Museum. As we were facing each other, I like to think that we had a good old chat once the place had closed for the night.
Although I eventually had to sell my etchings I had them on show when I owned them. I hate that people buy art just as a commodity and hide it away in a safe to be sold at a later date for a vast profit. Fair enough, sell it if you need to and at least it means that someone else can enjoy it; but while you have it, show it and love it. There's a story behind all of them and as they pass along from person to person their history only grows richer and more fascinating.