What it’s like to have your nude body auctioned for tens of millions
What it’s like to have your nude body auctioned for tens of millions
What it s like to have – Four individuals worked together to lift the 200-pound canvas onto the gallery wall. Once hung, the curvaceous figure rises as if a towering monument against the muted backdrop of Sotheby’s London venue. A small group of onlookers—curators, press representatives, and assistants—gathered in hushed admiration, their murmurs interrupted by the sudden emergence of a voice. “Hello,” said a woman in the rear of the room, her tone light and playful, “I’m here in real life!” Sue Tilley, a retired benefits supervisor in her late sixties, had journeyed from St Leonards-on-Sea to confront the grandeur of Lucian Freud’s “Sleeping by the Lion Carpet” (1996), a piece set to be sold at the Lewis Collection auction on 24 June. The painting, described by Sotheby’s Europe chairman Olivier Barker as “the magnum opus of Lucian’s work,” is anticipated to command between £25-35 million ($33-45 million) at the event. Tilley, however, is less preoccupied with the figures than with her own role in the creation. “It feels very weird, because I never really got any money,” she remarked, seated opposite her towering likeness. “I think sometimes I’m probably worth about £100 million,” she chuckled, a tone of surprise lacing her words. “How shocking is that!”
The Legacy of a Masterpiece
Tilley’s connection to the artwork stretches back decades, to the 1990s when she became a muse for the iconic painter. Over four sessions, Freud captured her essence in “Evening in the Studio” (1993), “Benefits Supervisor Resting” (1994), “Benefits Supervisor Sleeping” (1995), and “Sleeping by the Lion Carpet.” Two of these works have already etched their names into art history: the 1995 portrait, which fetched $33.6 million at Christie’s New York in 2008, became the first piece by a living artist to surpass the $30 million mark. Then, in 2015, the 1994 painting sold for $56.2 million, shattering the previous record. These milestones underscore Freud’s enduring influence, yet Tilley remains grounded in the intimate details of her time with the artist.
Freud’s process was as demanding as it was transformative. Tilley recalled the strict regimen: arriving at 7:30 a.m., receiving breakfast, and then immersing herself in the studio. The painter, known for his relentless pace, rarely paused, leaving Tilley to endure long stretches of posing. “He’d keep going until the phone rang,” she said, “so I’d have a few minutes to catch my breath.” On occasion, she would drift into a light sleep, only to wake with a start, her dreams interrupted by Freud’s presence. “I’d rise to my feet before being scolded,” she added, a hint of humor softening the memory of the ordeal.
From Club Kid to Artistic Collaborator
The relationship between Freud and Tilley began through Leigh Bowery, the Australian performance artist whose flamboyant persona left an indelible mark on London’s underground scene. Bowery, who had moved to the city as a teenager eager to immerse himself in the culture he’d read about in magazines, introduced Tilley to Freud. The pair became close friends, often meeting at Bowery’s club nights, where the artist’s audacious style was on full display. Tilley later penned Bowery’s biography, capturing his duality: “He made a name for himself as being very outrageous,” she said. “But deep down, he was a very normal person.”
Freud’s fascination with the avant-garde scene in London shaped his approach to portraiture. “It was the ticking heart of what was really going on at that time,” Barker explained. The artist’s work often drew from the raw, unfiltered energy of his surroundings, and Tilley was a central figure in this world. Her presence in the studio was a source of inspiration, with Barker noting that “she completed something that Freud needed of his models.” The collaborative process, while intense, was also deeply personal, blending life, conversation, and art into a singular experience.
When Tilley first met Freud, the dynamic was different from her earlier interactions with Bowery. “He didn’t give me instructions like he did with him,” she said, referencing Bowery’s meticulous guidance. “I think that’s why he liked me—he let me do my own thing.” This sense of autonomy, though occasionally tested, became a defining element of their partnership. Tilley’s model sessions, which paid a modest daily rate, were marked by a blend of creativity and challenge. “People think I walked in the room and went ‘Wow, let’s work on the most expensive painting in the world,’” she laughed. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
The Price of Immortality
The auction of “Sleeping by the Lion Carpet” is not just a celebration of Freud’s artistry but also a reflection of Tilley’s enduring presence in the cultural landscape. Her likeness, rendered in oil with vivid folds and a haunting blue-tinged hue, has become a symbol of both artistic genius and human vulnerability. The painting’s estimated value of £25-35 million places it among the most coveted works of the 21st century, yet Tilley remains modest about her own role. “I’m not a muse in the traditional sense,” she said, shaking her head. “I always think of a wafty kind of girl in love with the artist, sniffing smelling salts because she was about to pass out.”
Freud’s nudes, including Tilley’s, were often painted during periods of extreme thinness, a trend embodied by models like Kate Moss who popularized the “heroin chic” aesthetic. Tilley, however, challenged this notion, her figure a testament to natural curves rather than contrived fragility. “I didn’t need to be a size zero to be beautiful,” she asserted. The artist’s ability to capture the essence of his subjects—whether in their rawness or refinement—was a hallmark of his work, and Tilley’s participation in these sessions was both an honor and a trial.
As the auction approaches, the atmosphere in the Sotheby’s gallery is electric. The painting’s presence dominates the room, its scale and detail drawing admiration from collectors and critics alike. Yet, for Tilley, the moment feels surreal. “It’s like watching a piece of myself become a thing of value,” she reflected, her voice tinged with both pride and bewilderment. The art world’s reverence for her image contrasts sharply with her own view of the process, one that was as much about connection as it was about creation. “I was more than just a body,” she emphasized. “I was a person, a friend, and a collaborator.”
Freud’s legacy is inseparable from the figures he immortalized, and Tilley’s story adds a human dimension to the artist’s mythos. The sale of “Sleeping by the Lion Carpet” will mark a new chapter in the history of his work, but for Tilley, it’s a moment to remember the intimacy of the studio. “When you’re painting, it’s not just about the canvas,” she said. “It’s about the shared space, the shared time, the shared vulnerability.” As the art world prepares to bid on her likeness, Tilley’s perspective offers a grounded counterpoint to the grandeur of the auction, a reminder that behind every masterpiece lies a story of personal and artistic transformation.
