C.J.Munn © C.J.Munn runs Rockabelly Lifecasts and can be found on the web at: www.rockabelly.co.uk

As a young girl, I remember flicking through my mother’s magazines and coming across a large black and white photograph of Rudolph Nureyev’s feet. I recall gazing intently at this strange sight, wondering how something could be so worn and yet so beautiful at the same time - weathered and smooth like driftwood in places, gnarled and scarred in others. The traces of a thousand Grand Jetés were etched into those amazing feet.

Fast forward 20 years and I find myself still inspired by that one photograph in my work as a lifecaster. Lifecasting is a specialist area of sculpting where moulds are taken directly from a person’s body, and a near-exact replica then cast in plaster, stone powder, resin or even metals. The resulting sculptures are almost spookily realistic - every pore, fissure, sinew or callus can be captured in a moment - immortalised in stone or metal. In the case of the dancer, it is more than just their image that is captured in the sculpture - it is their toil, their suffering, their power and successes all collected in one three-dimensional ‘snapshot’ of their physical history.

I fell into the art of lifecasting when taking a break from my career in television to have a baby. With the help of my mother, the artist Diane Brazier, I managed to cast my pregnant form using layers of wet plaster-impregnated bandage (similar to the kind used by doctors to cast broken limbs). The resulting belly-sculpture was so successful that what started as an experiment developed rapidly into a hobby and eventually into a career casting all kinds of body parts for all sorts of people.

Arm of male dancer photographer C.J.Munn ©

Just as the beauty and curvaceousness of the pregnant female form has held a fascination for artists from the dawn of time, so too have the bold and graceful bodies of dancers, and it wasn’t surprising for me to return to my memory of the Nureyev photograph for my inspiration and to find my muses in the world of dance.

My sister and I trained at Doreen Bird’s college, as did our father before us. So I had grown up surrounded by swarms of slender girls in leotards and neatly pinned back hair, watching in awe the students of the Senior College with their grace, suppleness and strong, lean bodies. Naturally, the first dancers to model for my work were old friends from my days at dance school. I worked on new techniques with fast-setting casting gel to capture every mark and muscle, every curve, crease and callus of their feet, limbs and larger body areas. Working fast enabled more interesting poses to be held, and allowed the dancers themselves to dictate poses that they felt expressed something about themselves.

The dancer’s body is without doubt a joy to work with and most suited to the art of lifecasting - being both elegant yet well-defined and engraved with fascinating peculiarities arising from years of hard work and repetitive movements. As a bonus, the ingrained discipline and level of fitness of a dancer makes them generally compliant to hold poses for longer periods than the average client or model, without discomfort or complaint.

The art of dance has not only inspired great painters, but also translates perfectly into the world of sculpture - the strong lines, graceful curves and exaggerated poses of ballet, in particular, can be ‘grabbed’ and captured in stone or plaster just as in a photograph. Knowing just how short a dancer’s career can be, it seems all the more poignant to be able to seize the essence of someone in their physical peak, or most idiosyncratic pose, to save for all time.

Perhaps the most rewarding part of my work is not the creation of the art itself, but the moment where I reveal the final sculpture to the model - showing them for the very first time the unique beauty and majesty of their own bodies in a way that cannot be done with any other medium. Each model or client shows the same fascination and wonderment with their lifecast as an infant does when first recognising itself in a mirror. For some this moment is even more revealing than others - only when viewing his image in 3D did one client finally see why his teacher had been so critical of his lack of turnout for so many years. Another, painfully thin dancer finally saw sense and gave up her diet when seeing her own bony arms reaching out to her in stone.

Cast of a dancer foot
Photograph by C.J.Munn ©

My next challenge is to perfect capturing the movement of a dancer’s costume in sculpture - advanced casting techniques allow the replication of cloth, even hair…but I do wonder if I’ll ever manage to cast a tutu!