January 14 was cold and blustery and we welcomed the warm refuge of Gallery 5’s dim interior. It was only ten after six in the evening and the main floor of the gallery was already filled with silent spectators, seated in folding chairs around a striking figure in flowing white robes.
Mauricio, Isabel and I paid our seven dollars and found seats on the stage. It was a little too far away from the model to see much detail, but we dug out our pencils and sketchbooks and got to work. Relaxing music from the DJ booth washed over the crowd and we were just getting into our sketches when a voice from the back of the crowd called, “Switch!” The model changed positions and a great shuffling of pages radiated through the audience.
After a few more two-minute poses, a cheerful woman with a distinct rockabilly vibe emerged from the back and introduced herself as Runaround Sue. “Thanks everyone, for coming out to the first Dr. Sketchy Anti-Art School, she said. “We’re going to let our model take a short break, so grab a drink, say “hi” to your neighbors and sharpen your pencils. We’ll start back in a few minutes.”
As the crowd surged toward the bar in the back, I caught up with Sue, who is the co-founder of Sugar Shack Burlesque and responsible for bringing this chapter of Dr. Sketchy from Brooklyn to Richmond. I thought this was a one-time exhibition, but Sue corrected me: “We’re hoping to continue this event every second Wednesday here at Gallery 5, with a new model and a new theme each month.” She then introduced me to Parker, one of Gallery 5’s curators, and this month’s model, Attila, decked out in her “Snow Queen” garb. “We don’t care if people have been drawing for 50 years or the past five minutes,” Sue continued.  “We just want people to come out and have a good time, have a drink and draw.” 
Sue sauntered up to the front of the room and got everyone’s attention as Attila, now wearing a white body suit and tights, returned to her place on the dais. Sue said, “We’re going to give out a prize to the best sketch that incorporates fire. You can hang your entries on the wall over there.”
Mauricio, Isabel and I changed positions to get a better view and got back to work. My sketches felt a little better, having warmed up with the gesture drawings and a beer. It’s been more years than I care to admit since I’ve drawn a live model in a studio, and my old VCU professor Durwood Dommisse would cringe at my current grasp of anatomy. Still, it was fun to flex the drawing skills again.
While most of the artists in the crowded room were concentrating on honing their figure drawing skills, a gentleman to my left was writing poetry about the model, and a young lady to my right was drawing one of the other artists. “I got bored with the snow queen,” she explained when she caught me looking.
On the floor, an older man scribbled furiously in his sketchbook, and the resulting wiry, smiley-faced figure more closely resembled a flaming zombie than the snow queen. And the woman beside him drew trippy, colorful, magic-marker patterns radiating out from a ghostly figure. 
Attila changed positions and outfits several times for the next few hours, posing for the crowd of about 70. A handful of people hung up drawings of the Snow Queen on fire, and each received a prize. The event was not quite as raucous as I would have expected from piling a bunch of artists into a small space, filling them with beer and wine, and piping in some bawdy 1940s jazz, but as the weeks go on I’m sure the crowds will warm up and get a little crazier. If you plan to attend the February 11 event, I would suggest packing lightly and showing up early. It’s a good time, and a welcome addition to Richmond’s art scene.