Figure Drawing: Discipline as a Creative Anchor
Moving to Cape Town in 2022 felt like stepping into the unknown, a sprawling city where I had no history, no memories and no connections. Or so I thought. In 2023, on a whim, I searched for figure drawing classes and stumbled upon Life Drawing Cape Town, hosted by Roxy Spears, a name I recognised from my student days.
Thirty-five years later, there I was, standing in front of my old peer, charcoal in hand, in a sunlit industrial studio in Woodstock. What began as a search for creative connection became a keystone in my practice and, in many ways, my life.
Figure drawing is not a hobby. It is a discipline. After decades away, returning to it was humbling. I knew it was difficult, but I had forgotten just how difficult. The human form is endlessly complex, and our relationship to it, how we interpret gesture, weight and light, is just as layered. But I have persisted. Every Wednesday evening, off I go, materials in hand, to an art deco building flooded with natural light. Its industrial windows frame Table Mountain on one side and the Atlantic on the other. The space itself feels like a metaphor, a bridge between structure and fluidity, between the city I am still learning to call home and the creative rhythm I am reclaiming.
It has not been easy. Muscle memory fades and doubt creeps in. But something shifts when you commit to the process. The lines become surer. The fear of the blank page quiets. Last year, our group exhibited at the Dawid Rass Gallery in the old Castle Brewery building. It was a magical evening where I even sold a piece to a fellow artist. That moment was more than validation. It was a reminder that valuing our own work is how we build creative confidence, a lesson Roxy and I reflected on during a visit to the Irma Stern retrospective at Norval Gallery. We are often our own harshest critics.
Figure drawing is not just about rendering the body. It is about seeing, really seeing. The way light falls on a collarbone, the tension in a model’s pose and the economy of a single line are all part of it. These observations seep into everything else I do, from branding projects to photography. It sharpens my eye for composition and for the raw humanity that should underlie even the most technical project.
But its greatest gift has been connection. In a city that once felt foreign, this weekly practice has grounded me. It is where I have met kindred spirits and where I have remembered that creativity is not about perfection. It is about showing up, again and again.
I am still finding my groove. Some sessions feel clunky and others feel transcendent. But that is the point. Figure drawing is a mirror. It reflects not just the model, but the artist’s hand, their doubts and their growth. It is a practice in humility and courage. There are no shortcuts and no hiding. Just you, the page and the endless, beautiful challenge of making marks that mean something.
