The Art Student
This is from a series of stories set in North East Scotland in the year 1910. The parish minister and his wife are an extremely hedonistic couple. However the stories printed here will feature his wife and her companions only. Some of you may be unfamiliar with the word, 'Manse.' Quite simply, it refers to e house inhabited by a parish minister and his family.
It was late in the summer of 1910 when Isobel Hardy met Ruth Thomson for the first time. Ruth was a talented art student, on holiday from the college in Aberdeen, and had spent most of the summer on the continent, visiting art galleries in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Venice, but now she was home, ready for the new academic year which would be starting in the next few weeks.
The two women met quite by accident when Isobel was strolling round the kirkyard as she waited for her husband John, the minister of the parish. He was meeting with the church elders, but would soon be finished. Isobel saw a slim, feminine figure sitting on the grass beside the kirkyard wall, and curiosity piqued, she strolled nonchalantly in that direction.
As she approached the woman looked up and smiled, Isobel smiled back, noticing as she drew closer that the woman was drawing. 'Hello,' offered Isobel, smiling again. The woman was hatless, most unusual for a well brought up woman in 1910, but it allowed her long blonde hair to frame her pretty face, and she was very pretty. Her figure was slim, and although the long summer dress concealed her legs, Isobel could see that she had nice trim ankles. Isobel introduced herself, 'I'm Isobel Hardy, the minister's wife. I hope you're enjoying our wee kirkyard?' The girl smiled and got to her feet.
'Oh yes, and it's such a lovely day as well, I'm Ruth Thomson by the way,' she said introducing herself. 'I'm just trying to get some sketching and drawing practice to keep my eye and hand co-ordination up to scratch before I go back to Art College,' she explained. 'I do hope it's OK for me to be here?'
'Well, I don't see why not. I can't hear any of the present occupants complaining, can you?' she joked, looking round the ancient cemetery. 'I don't expect my husband will complain either, I'm sure he'd be delighted to have even more pretty young women in the kirkyard - living ones of course,' she added, joking again. The woman smiled again, looking quite vivacious. 'I'd love to see your drawings if that's not too much of a cheek?' Isobel requested. 'I have a real interest in art, and occasionally draw a wee bit for my own amusement too.' The girl stooped and retrieved her sketch book.
'They're nothing great I'm afraid,' she said turning over the pages. 'I'm not wonderful with buildings and such like. I prefer drawing and painting people.' The drawings of the Kirk and the kirkyard were actually very good. She had a wonderfully sensitive eye for light and shade and her line was exquisite, bringing parts forward and allowing others to recede, giving a lovely three dimensional feel to the drawing.
'You're much too modest my dear,' said Isobel. 'These are lovely, and given your preference for people, have you any drawings of people to share with me? Taking the pad, Ruth flipped over a number of pages, looking for something suitable. She finally handed over the pad, and true to her word, her drawings of people were far better. Some were rough sketches which, although rough, still showed the form and proportion beautifully, while others were highly finished pencil drawings, almost photographic in quality. Isobel turned over yet another page to find the most delightful nude study.
'Oh, you're not supposed to look at that one. Whatever will you think of me?' Ruth said, seemingly flustered beyond all reason.
'Why not?' asked Isobel, 'it's a wonderful drawing and you should be proud of it, not embarrassed.' Ruth blushed deeply, not knowing where to look.
'But you're the ministers wife, oh dear, I really am so embarrassed. I wish the earth would open up and swallow me,' she finished. Isobel started laughing.
'Well Ruth, you're certainly in the right place for that to happen,' she giggled, indicating the cemetery, which made Ruth giggle. Recovering her composure, she seriously studied the drawing again. 'What a wonderful drawing of a lovely model, and such a beautiful figure. Absolutely astonishing, so slim, yet so womanly - I don't think I've ever seen breasts so perfect, and the curve of her hip and her legs. A young Aphrodite,' she concluded. 'Who is the model my dear, one of the models from art college perhaps?' Ruth looked completely flustered and taken aback. She blushed to the roots of her long blonde hair. Isobel puzzled over her reaction for a few seconds, and then said, 'Oh how silly of me. Of course, I see it now; it's a self portrait, isn't it.' Ruth put her face in her hands.
'I'm sorry, you weren't supposed to see that one, I'm really sorry, she repeated.
'There's nothing to be sorry about,' consoled Isobel. 'Please Ruth, don't be embarrassed. I feel enormously privileged to have seen it, and you. I won't hear any more of this nonsense, it's art, and that's all there is to it. My husband may be a minister, but that doesn't mean that he or I are narrow minded prigs.' Ruth looked somewhat relieved.
'Thank you Isobel, you really are so very kind, and understanding. I can't help but be embarrassed though. I drew myself because there are no models out here in the country, and like many artists throughout history, when there is nothing else, I draw myself,' she explained.
'No need to explain yourself to me my dear. It's a wonderful drawing - you must do a painting of the same subject, and soon.' Ruth nodded, but said nothing. 'I'll pose for you if you wish,' offered Isobel suddenly on impulse, 'but you must never tell anyone that it's me,' she added. Ruth looked at her in astonishment, her mouth open.
'Surely you don't mean... nude?' said Ruth.
'And why not? Isobel demanded to know. 'Don't let the fact that I'm a ministers wife fool you young lady. I believe in equal rights, and the vote for women. I'm a bit of a, "freethinker," if I do say so myself. Do you want me to pose for you or not? Would I be suitable?'