Art with sauce

Twice a month, artists tote pencils and pastels to a bar to sketch some atypical models

Katrina Galore rushes into Great Scott in Allston and apologizes for being late. Her platinum-blond bob swings in front of her eyes as she pulls on tights next to the small stage at the back of the bar. She kicks off her flat, sensible black shoes, straps on Mary Jane heels, and mounts the stage in her bright pink sweater and full, blue tulle skirt. She strikes a pose. The approximately 25 people gathered on stools and green plastic lawn chairs in front of the stage pick up their pens and start to sketch.

"Remember, it's not about realism," she reminds the artists. "It's about flattering the model."

At the monthly meeting of the Boston branch of Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School, it's really about creating an informal atmosphere where artists both professional and amateur can practice their figure drawing. But instead of "normal" models, Dr. Sketchy's seeks unusual characters, like burlesque performers, drag queens, or contortionists, for muses.

The organization was created in Brooklyn in 2005 by then 22-year-old Molly Crabapple, a burlesque performer, author, illustrator and one-time art school student. The classes caught on, and Crabapple created an online tutorial for people looking to begin their own Dr. Sketchy's - about 50 groups have since sprung up in cities nationwide and on four other continents.

"It's one of my favorite events that I work on," said Aliza Shapiro, whose one-woman production company, Truth Serum, organizes and produces the ages 18 and over event every second Sunday of the month in Allston. "There is a community happening here."

When in Boston last year for a tour to promote Dr. Sketchy's Official Rainy Day Colouring Book, Crabapple asked Shapiro if she'd start a local group. The Boston bunch has grown into one of the largest, said Shapiro, and now has a core set of regulars, along with new faces - some from as far away as Western Massachusetts or Vermont - each session.

"It's become a destination," Shapiro said. "People come in, have brunch and do the event in the evening."

For $7, artists can join the two-hour session - no preregistration required - which begins with one-minute poses and ends with 20-minute poses. The serious drawing is punctuated by contests where the illustrators must incorporate something chosen by Shapiro, the model or the audience into their drawings. For one contest during the most recent meeting, for example, artists had to incorporate something locomotive related, because Galore was wearing a train conductor's hat. Prizes, provided by local store Artist and Craftsman Supply, include charcoals, pens, pencils and sketch pads.

"Winners are chosen very loosely," Shapiro said. "The model will choose or the person will win by applause. If someone doesn't have a pad of paper, we'll find a way to make sure they win a prize. It's very egalitarian."

The atmosphere at the event last weekend was casual, with some artists coming in late and stopping at the bar to grab a drink. Some carried huge bags of supplies and others simply had a single pen and small notebook. Regulars greeted one another like old friends and newbies tentatively introduced themselves.

"There's a wonderful attitude here about models and the drawing process," said Kathrine Douthit, who lives across the street from Great Scott and has attended nearly every Dr. Sketchy's meeting since the program began. "Drawing is a sensual process, and here that is clearly acknowledged. [Traditional] art classes are kind of mechanical."

There was nothing robotic about the interaction between model and audience in this group. Artists were encouraged to hoot and holler their approval for Galore as she struck different poses.

Though it is a figure drawing class, the model never gets completely naked, only down to her modest skivvies on bottom and pasties on top.

"We keep it legal," said Shapiro.

It is up to the models to choose their own outfits, according to Shapiro, and because they work for tips, they often put in a lot of effort to please the crowd. The model varies from month to month, with some, like Katrina, returning for a second round or others coming back to become regular artists in the audience.

Though Shapiro makes it clear that she wants to keep Dr. Sketchy's from turning into a sterile "art school" environment, there is still a seriousness of purpose from each artist. Mostly, though, it's just a good time.

"It's not like you got in art school," said first-timer Mandi Charles, who came from Salem. "It's very accepting and it's good for the community. I've already marked the next one on my calendar."

Correction: Because of a reporting error, a Sept. 28 article about Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School misstated the length of the session. The Dr. Sketchy's meetings run from 2:30 to 5:30 p.m.