The Tact of Leaders (an essay on criticism and how to take it)

How do leaders and people in authority gain an accurate picture of what’s going on around them and how sensitive (in both senses of the word) should they be towards criticism?

There’s a novel by Gabriel Garcia Marquez entitled “the Autumn of the Patriarch” in which a decrepit and beleaguered but ruthless dictator finds himself without any close confidants to whom he can turn for a truthful description of what’s happening in his country and how he’s perceived as its leader. He finally resorts to visiting the servants’ latrines in the basement of the building in order to read the descriptions and see the caricatures of himself scrawled in graffiti across the walls. Thus it’s possible for him to gain some kind of perspective by juxtaposing these representations with the ridiculously fanciful distortions presented to him by his aides who are terrified of uttering the slightest word of negativity or criticism to him.

It has always been the case that leaders have intimidated their subordinates but it has also been the case, on occasion and sometimes for generations, that certain cultures have developed in which criticism is positively encouraged. In his 1958 essay “The Beginnings of Rationalism” Karl Popper traces the progress of the “tradition of critical discussion” back to the Ionian School of the Pre-Socratic philosopher Thales:

“I can hardly imagine a relationship between master and pupil in which the master merely tolerates criticism without actively encouraging it… At any rate, there is a historical fact that the Ionian school was the first in which the pupils criticised their masters, in one generation after the other… It was a momentous innovation. It meant a break with the dogmatic tradition which permits only one school doctrine, and the introduction in its place of a tradition that admits a plurality of doctrines which all try to approach the truth by means of critical discussion.” -Karl Popper

How might we create a culture in which criticism is not only tolerated but positively encouraged? Criticism is such a vitally important component of any discursive environment because it has the potential to identify and articulate genuine weaknesses, problems and difficulties and raise them for discussion and debate in such a way that they may be overcome, or that improved solutions might be developed and implemented. Criticism has a deeply powerful role to play in all aspects of culture and society but it can also be significantly intimidating for the same reason. Criticism has the potential to undermine and disrupt situations and conditions which may have been reasonably workable, if not wholly perfect beforehand. It can divide people, cause acrimony, suspicion and long-lasting distrust. Criticism often makes those who are criticised feel insecure, and when criticism is made of superiors they're very likely to interpret it as an affront to their authority or professional position. It's necessary therefore that all criticisms are proffered with a generous helping of tact in order that the person making the criticism doesn't undermine the very ground on which they stand, not to mention the value of the criticism offered. In 1848 John Stuart Mill was well aware of this necessity when he wrote:

“In general, opinions contrary to those commonly received can only obtain a hearing by studied moderation of language, and the most cautious avoidance of unnecessary offence, from which they hardly ever deviate even in a slight degree without losing ground…”

Such tact can take the form of considerate, well timed appropriately toned comments but in certain circumstances even this doesn’t guarantee open approval. In group situations the process of offering criticism can be even more complicated and often puts the individual making the criticism in a very vulnerable and uncomfortable position. In such group situations the tendency towards groupthink is very strong indeed and may even lead to individuals being ostracised if they’re seen to express what might be interpreted as dissenting opinion.

Groupthink can arise just as easily within egalitarian peer groups as it can within the hierarchy of groups with identified leaders. However, it’s only within hierarchical groups that leaders are likely to unwittingly dissuade critical input:

“For example, subtle constraints, which the leader may reinforce inadvertently, may prevent a member from fully exercising his critical powers and from openly expressing doubts about a risky course of action when most others in the group appear to have reached a consensus.” - Irving L. Janis 1982

In the book “Groupthink: Psychological Studies of Policy Decisions and Fiascoes” from which the above quote derives, Janis describes how amiability amongst small groups of leaders can actually lead to unquestioned reinforcement and implementation of ill-formed decisions with potentially disastrous consequences. He therefore advocates a nine-point list of checks and reviews which are intended to counter groupthink and to arrive at thorough and fully considered outcomes. What I find most interesting here is that Janis’ suggestions are universally discursive in nature and place a great deal of emphasis on the leaders’ active promotion and “acceptance” of critical opinion.

In ideal circumstances the counter-opinions of others can be extremely useful to ensure that all avenues have been fully explored, but even within the solitude of our own thoughts there’s a constant process of give-and-take occurring between judgment and critical analysis which allows us to make more informed decisions about the experiences that we encounter. In 1996 the neurologist Vilayanur Ramachandran put forward the hypothesis that the right and left hemispheres of the brain react differently to unexpected experiences. Whilst the left hemisphere of the brain seeks to maintain rationality and the continuity of belief, using a variety of cognitive processes and self deceptions; the right brain acts as a kind of devil’s advocate or “anomaly detector” that registers, and responds to, inconsistencies. The right brain (the side most commonly associated with creativity) therefore challenges and counters the left brain’s tendency towards superficial or unexamined answers.

So whether it is within group situations or the confines of one’s own mind, critical input is a vital tool in arriving at informed decisions. But who stands to gain the most from such decisions? In the case of individuals the answer is obvious but the case of groups it is less so. Everyone in a group benefits from the positive actions of the group, but the leader of any group always benefits (or suffers) the most. Despite the energy, vulnerability and tact which is necessary to giving criticism, it’s always the case that the person who stands to gain most from critical input is the leader of the group. This is a useful observation because it allows us to recognize something about what we could call the “economics of criticism”: something is given and something is received; something is sacrificed and something is gained. But, of course this isn’t always the case. The person making the criticism might not be doing it for purely altruistic reasons. Sometimes criticism is offered simply as a reprimand or retribution for some perceived injustice or incompetence. In this case it would be better to think of such criticism as defiance. Defiance is an expression of non-co-operation or counter action whereas criticism, when extended in the fullness of its potential, offers the hope of positive change. The obstacle to genuine criticism then, is that it’s too easily mixed with, or mistaken for, defiance.

It will be clear by now that there’s certainly a need for a high level of tact in the delivery of critical opinion to ensure that it’s taken in the spirit in which it was intended. But if we think further about the economics of criticism we can see that there’s also an additional emphasis on leaders themselves being willing and able to sustain criticism and engage it meaningfully, since, if they fully understand what they may have to gain through their acceptance of criticism, they’ll realize that such gifts also come with responsibilities. It might be useful here to develop this formulation of criticism as a kind of gift which needs to be packaged very carefully, but in addition to this careful wrapping there’s also a significant imperative, on the part of the receiver, in having the humility to understand that whilst not all gifts are things which are desired, they nonetheless represent a sacrifice on the part of the giver and the promise of a positive gain on the part of the receiver. The respect which this demands is a vital from of tact and one which all leaders would do well to cultivate.

“In the case of any person whose judgment is really deserving of confidence, how has it become so? Because he has kept his mind open to criticism of his opinions and conduct. Because it has been his practice to listen to all that could be said against him; to profit by as much of it as was just, and expound to himself, and upon occasion to others, the fallacy of what was fallacious. Because he has felt, that the only way in which a human being can make some approach to knowing the whole of a subject, is by hearing what can be said about it by persons of every variety of opinion, and studying all modes in which it can be looked at by every character of mind.” –JS Mill

This essay was originally published on Dyske.com here.

References:

David Miller (1983). A Pocket Popper. UK: Fontana.

John Stuart Mill (1848)1988. On Liberty. London: BPCC Paperbacks.

V.S. Ramachandran, The evolutionary biology of self-deception, laughter, dreaming and depression: some clues from anosognosia, Medical Hypotheses, November 1996, 47(5):347-62.

Irving L. Janis (1982). Groupthink: Psychological Studies of Policy Decisions and Fiascoes. London: Wadsworth

David Bellingham – Elected Works

The following is a text written to accompany the current exhibition of works by David Bellingham at Cairn gallery (details below).

IDEAS LEAVE OBJECTS STANDING
David Bellingham, 2010. Image by Laurie Clark.

Do they? Is this true? Do ideas really transcend objects? Or is the reverse the case - as is also suggested by this text piece - are ideas outlived by objects? And there’s yet another dimension to this relationship: ideas are also formed by objects - as William Carlos Williams famously repeated: “No ideas but in things.”

It's at once an aphorism, a manifesto, a short poem, a collection of traces upon a surface and a proposition in two contradictory phrases. But the power of this statement lies entirely in the duality between one interpretation and its near opposite, in the oscillation between the two, neither of which can be accommodated by the other. It is, in fact, two aphorisms, two manifestoes, two short poems combined in a single black and white configuration of concrete language.

In many ways we do indeed believe that ideas, and the thoughts from which they arise, transcend objects and the limited forms from which they, in turn, are composed. Ideas lead to deeds (sometimes to creations even) and it’s through these that both objects and people are judged. But ideas are also easily forgotten, as are the deeds which come as a consequence. Only objects endure. The difference is equivalent to that between text and spoken word. One endures and the other disperses the moment it is uttered. But the immediacy and transience of the second is often valued over the permanence and impersonal nature of the first. Speech has an object - it goes directly in search of an enemy, or a friend, and it's this immanence, this more personal intention which lends the spoken word it's significance.

IDEAS LEAVE OBJECTS STANDING, 2004

This text piece has found various forms in David's practice from canvas, to wall text to ceramic mugs. I own two such mugs - one of which I use at home and the other I use at work at Gray's School of Art in Aberdeen. For several years it has followed me to tutorials and critiques making its quiet statement and keeping me refreshed and therefore better able to do my job. Rarely does anyone comment on or question my mug, which I assume to be either a suggestion that it's accepted as reflective of my general philosophical attitude, or perhaps because it's a little daunting or even the reverse: simply another superficial remark or branding attached to one of many mass produced objects which we use on a daily basis.

At one time the mug I use in Aberdeen was frequently borrowed by a colleague on the regular days that I wasn't around. I'd frequently return to work to find the dried dregs of coffee in it or occasionally it would be absent from my desk and I’d only find it some time later unwashed and abandoned in one of the studios. Despite not wishing to seem possessive about something as trivial as a mug, I finally I gave in to my irritation and decided to request that my colleague stop using it. This was immediately accepted but I've subsequently noticed that there's a hairline crack across the shoulder of the handle which has presumably been caused by a fall whilst washing it up in one of the porcelain studio sinks. It's impossible to know for certain whether I did it myself or not but it barely matters because the mug still functions perfectly well and has, in some ways, gained more character because of this unique flaw. I’ve come to like it. It seems, in its own way, to say something about David’s text. It’s a counterpoint to the authority of the opposition set up between objects and ideas. It’s a statement about the role of imperfection itself as both a thing and an idea but also as a property which we have a strangely ambivalent attitude towards.

We often think that it’s the quality of materials that makes things valuable. In addition we prize refinement, workmanship and the evidence of human investment and ingenuity. Such things confer value upon objects but it’s nonetheless the case that these material qualities are superseded by the associations carried by an object. In spite of even the most humble commonplace materials and mass production processes we’re highly susceptible to the aura of association, and this can come in a multitude of different guises. Advertising and design are predicated on this very inclination on our part. We’re impressionable consumers of value and our values shift according to constantly changing eddies in the climate of association, history and meaning. And this is why something as simple and unprepossessing as a cracked mug can seem all the more valuable and unique than its almost identical but more perfect twin.

Elected Works

Works by David Bellingham elected by:

John Bevis, Ross Birrell, Pavel Büchler, Laurie Clark, Thomas A Clark, Thomas Joshua Cooper, Simon Cutts, Francis Edeline, Adam Gibbons, Harry Gilonis, Jim Hamlyn, John Janssen, Julie Johnstone, Peter Manson, Jonathan Monk, Ken Neil, Lisa Otty, Roger Palmer, Dominic Paterson, Colin Sackett, John Shankie & David Shrigley

12 September – 16 October 2010, open by appointment

Cairn

28 Viewforth Place

Pittenweem, Fife

KY10 2PZ Scotland

www.cairneditions.blogspot.com

Revolting Students and Unqualified Teachers

I notice that on the 27^th and 28^th of this month BBC2 will be airing a two-part documentary, presented by Dylan Wiliam (deputy director of the UK’s Institute of Education), about implementing formative assessment with a class in a Hertfordshire comprehensive. (Now available on iPlayer here). I’m very intrigued, especially by part two in which:

“There is a classroom revolt when the teachers remove grades from work. The idea is to make the students actually read the comments on their work in order to help them improve, but they are left confused and angry after becoming so used to the traditional grading system.”

It might be thought that this issue is unique to school kids, but not so. I have two colleagues studying, like me, for a post graduate HE teaching qualification. One is, what might be called in the nicest possible terms, “a bit of a swot”, and the other has been so inundated during the last year that very little time has been available for going the extra mile in studying. When they were both given marks for their first essay submission earlier this year it was immediately clear that the gap between them had suddenly become a gulf in terms of motivation. The change was most apparent in the over-worked colleague who immediately lost all interest in engaging in the course other than to aim for a bare pass. And this is from a dedicated, innovative and experienced teacher!

A few months ago I read an academic paper also by Dylan William entitled “The Half Second Delay: what follows?” (2006). In the paper William musters a variety of research to demonstrate that experts, in all fields - but most specifically in this case: teachers - employ a sophisticated range of unconscious scripts or “filters” which can only be acquired through experience rather than through instruction and teaching qualifications:

“The availability of these data requires a thorough grounding in experience, which it appears is extraordinarily difficult to acquire without prolonged immersion in the relevant settings. In the context of the research findings presented here the idea of intuition remains mysterious, but can be viewed as an exquisite and largely unconscious sensitivity to very small details.”

So, not only do grades demotivate intrinsically motivated students but they widen the achievement gap and tell us absolutely nothing about how “good” a teacher is.

Blowing the Whistle on Theory and Practice

It’s possible that I’m wrong, but I strongly suspect that we have a injustice (or perhaps it would be less inflammatory to describe it as an inconsistency) at work in the way that Art students are being assessed at universities in the UK. I realise that this is a significant claim with potentially serious ramifications so I offer this as an observation and discussion to be further examined, explained and hopefully resolved or proven to be unfounded.

All Fine Art degree courses employ an assessment process which evaluates each student’s final degree exhibition as well as their portfolio of coursework produced during their final year of study. In most cases the assessed material consists of a public exhibition as well as a portfolio submission of supporting work (sketchbooks, notebooks, drawings, supplementary images, maquettes etc). All such courses also assess an academic component in the form of an essay, dissertation, thesis, critical evaluation, or other form of written submission and this forms a fixed portion of the overall mark (usually between 12% and 25%).

Due to the specific nature of fine art courses, the differing staffing levels involved and the demands of assessing text in comparison with visual material, it has become established practice to assess this written component differently to the studio work. Inevitably these assessments have to utilise certain assessment methods which, in contrast to studio assessment, take comparatively little account of the preparatory work produced in order to arrive at the final submission. In other words, the assessment of this component doesn’t do what the practical “studio” component does: it doesn’t assess the process and the evidence of this process to the same degree. This privileging of ends over means; of outcome over endeavour is patently at odds with the approach to assessment involving studio work and sometimes leaves students with significant amounts of material unconsidered, unacknowledged and un-assessed. If we marked studio work in the same manner we’d simply assess the exhibition and nothing besides, and the marks that students received at the end of their course would often be significantly different: sometimes better, sometimes worse.

So what’s going on in this irregular approach to assessment and why is this important aspect of the student’s work not being sufficiently recognised? I would argue that this derives from longstanding differences of opinion - prejudices even - about what constitutes assessable material and in particular a privileging of academic practices over practical. In academic circles generally, essays are rarely, if ever, assessed in terms of the process that leads to them. Essays are seen as the culmination of the student’s endeavour and it is often believed that this is sufficient to provide a complete picture of the student’s achievement. In Fine Art, as I have described, we have a more process oriented approach to the assessment of studio work and it would be claimed that this is due to the practical nature of this discipline. But is this distinction between theory and practice really a fair and justified one?

Whether in practice or theory, the relationships between engagement, inspiration and outcome are remarkably similar. We all know that someone can work for years, pouring energy, research, thought and skill into their work only to arrive at a mediocre result, whilst someone else might produce something astonishing and truly insightful with only the barest application. Creativity, originality, innovation, insight and inspiration cannot be scripted, much as we might wish them to be. The landscape of discovery is notoriously treacherous with many complex and unfamiliar obstacles and few, if any, guarantees of success.

In academia, the formal organisation, structure and presentation of essays is carefully supported (usually) and administered in order to ensure that as much of the process is captured and incorporated into the final piece as possible. Bibliographies, references, footnotes etc are intended to give a comprehensive indication of the material gathered and assimilated in order to produce an essay, but do we really believe that this represents a foolproof method of demonstrating what has really been read and understood let alone conceptualised and applied? From all appearances it would certainly seem so. However, we could just as easily contend that a degree exhibition is the culmination of all that preceded it. However, few art school teachers would seriously assert this, because they’ve come to recognise the importance of examining the journey, not just the destination.

The Fall from Grades

“What would it be like if one of today's art schools offered a single prize so lucrative and prominent that the winner would be virtually assured of making a living? The whole school, I think, would become obsessed with the prize, and suddenly the non-competitive atmosphere of post modern practice would evaporate.” -James Elkins

If you start typing the word “intrinsic” into Google you’re likely to see a drop-down list of suggestions appear. Second down the list will be “intrinsic motivation”. You can do exactly the same for the word “extrinsic” with the same result. These two forms of motivation have a huge role to play in education but almost everybody would hope that the principle motivator for anything students (or staff) do is intrinsic rather than extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation is the desire to do something for its own sake whereas extrinsic motivation seeks approval - or the avoidance of disapproval - or other kinds of rewards (money, prizes accolades, praise etc) from external sources. It’s very well documented that intrinsically motivated people consistently perform better at creative and cognitively challenging tasks, are more persistent and generally enjoy what they do more than extrinsically motivated people.

Of course, it would be an oversimplification to say that people are either intrinsically or extrinsically motivated. Most individuals are intrinsically AND extrinsically motivated by different things to different degrees depending on a variety of factors. Nonetheless we all recognize that some things just motivate us whereas other things, you couldn’t even pay us to do.

There's a rather curious phenomenon which is closely related to these forms of motivation known as the “Overjustification Effect” where people who are intrinsically motivated lose interest in an activity if it becomes associated with rewards. Most particularly they lose the ability to sustain their motivation after rewards are removed. In other words, the introduction of rewards actually destroys peoples’ intrinsic motivation. It's speculated that rewards are closely associated with typical means of persuading people to do dreary work or carry out chores, and this begins to form negative perceptions around any related activity.

Surprise rewards, on the other hand, do have a vaguely positive influence on people's subsequent motivation but such rewards have to be both genuinely unexpected and justified. Rewarding someone for no clear reason or for something which they feel is undeserving can simply lead to confusion.

“These findings are consistent across a variety of subject populations, rewards, and tasks, with the most destructive effects occurring in activities that require creativity or higher-order thinking. That this effect is produced by the extrinsic motivators known as grades has been documented with students of different ages and from different cultures. Yet the findings are rarely cited by educators.” (Alfie Kohn 1994)

Teachers have to tread a very narrow line when it comes to motivation - between challenging and potentially demotivating students. They need to galvanise students’ motivation as a means of challenging them. Challenges are one of the primary means by which people learn and develop but without motivation on the part of students it's often impossible to present challenges meaningfully. One of a teacher's fundamental skills therefore is to accurately gauge the level at which a challenge can be pitched without dulling the pleasure of engagement. For this reason, encouragement is one of the most useful tools at their disposal, but it’s important that this encouragement isn’t some form of disguised praise or the offer of future reward but rather a genuine involvement in the student’s striving to improve what they do.

Generally speaking then, rewards are inadvisable (unless, of course, you want to manipulate someone, and don’t care about the longer term consequences). In ideal circumstances it’s preferable to create as many opportunities as possible for extrinsically motivated people to develop intrinsic motivation. Supporting autonomy, providing choice and alternative ways of achieving successful outcomes, making projects relevant, achievable and challenging and creating an environment which is enabling and supportive, all help people internalize their motivation. In other words anything that promotes, clarifies and makes something rewarding in itself, has the potential to transform an extrinsically motivated individual into an intrinsically motivated one.

Ultimately, it’s not important whether I, as a teacher, think that what a student has done is good or not. What’s important is whether they’ve achieved something which is valuable to their development and whether the goals they’re setting for themselves, and that are set for them, are relevant and challenging enough to maintain their interest and engagement. Everybody strives to improve what they do - we should be building on this desire, not stifling it. The aim of education should be to promote students' independence and self-efficacy as much as possible, not to cultivate self-doubt and dependence. Grades especially, are the last thing that we should be offering as a means of motivating students. Grades are little more than an addictive and pernicious drug peddled by schools and universities to maintain dependency and conformity to their antiquated systems of assessment. Grades are a drug students would do better without – literally.

References:

I've also written on the problem of grading here.

ELKINS, J., 2001. Why Art Cannot be Taught. University of Illinois Press, Urbana and Chicago.

DEAN, J., 2009. How Rewards Can Backfire and Reduce Motivation. [online]. Available from: http://www.spring.org.uk/2009/10/how-rewards-can-backfire-and-reduce-motivation.php

HATTIE, J. and TIMPERLEY, H., 2007. The Power of Feedback. [online]. Available from: http://rer.sagepub.com/content/77/1/81.full.pdf+html

HITZ, R. and DRISCOLL, A., (undated). Praise in the Classroom. [online]. Available from: http://www.ericdigests.org/pre-9213/praise.htm

KAPLAN, A. 2009. Intrinsic and Extrinsic Motivation. [online]. Education.com. Available from: http://www.education.com/reference/article/intrinsic-and-extrinsic-motivation/

KOHN, A. 1994. GRADING: The Issue Is Not How but Why. [online]. Available from: http://www.alfiekohn.org/teaching/grading.htm

KOHN, A., 1999. From Degrading to De-Grading. High School Magazine. [online] Available from: http://www.alfiekohn.org/teaching/fdtd-g.htm

Prize Winners, Knights, Clones and Rejects

Yesterday I visited Martin Creed's exhibition, "Down Over Up", at the Fruitmarket Gallery in Edinburgh. I'll refrain from discussing the Ins and Outs of the work here other than to say that it's worth seeing if you're in the vicinity.

At the entrance to the gallery is an introductory text intended to give some context and background to the exhibition. It has become something of a cliché to introduce such solo exhibitions by listing the various prizes awarded to the artist during their career. How should we interpret this emphasis and what might it tell us about the values of such art galleries? Perhaps it's assumed that the ‘doubting public’ will be persuaded by this conventionalised claim to authority and recognition. I’m reminded of Madonna's 2001 prize-giving speech when Creed won the Turner Prize:

The figure who introduces Madonna in the video and stands to her side is Sir Nicholas Serota, director of the Tate and chairman of the Turner Prize committee. In the book “Seven Days in the Art World”, Sarah Thornton describes an interview with “Sir Nick” in which they discuss his misgivings about the prize:

"Competition between artists is almost taboo in the art world, and Serota admitted that contests like the Turner Prize are “iniquitous in drawing distinctions between artists of very different kinds.” […] “Few artists enjoy direct competition,” said Serota. “Artists struggle to express themselves, and for that they need an inordinate amount of self-belief. In some circumstances that self-belief will shift into competitiveness, but it is rarely comfortable.”

Later in the essay Thornton catches up with Martin Creed at the 2006 Turner Prize awards ceremony:

"For Creed, no one is ever best in show. 'If the artists create artworks then the judges create a winner. Whoever they choose is a reflection of themselves.'"

It would be a mistake to think that this kind of situation is restricted only to the higher echelons of the art world. The process of moulding individuals in our own image is prevalent throughout society and academia is no exception:

“In describing the ideal we look for the impossible, and we begin at a point where we are looking for those who most closely match our desires and probably ourselves. These models are culturally loaded in favour of a constructed notion of the masculinist, unencumbered affluent individual. The ‘ideal student’ would demonstrate that they are ‘fit’ in a Darwinian way to take up the subject the minute they enter into the world of higher education. They would be highly motivated and as passionate about their subject as their tutors.” (Vaughan et al. 2008)

This has everything to do with the distorted logic of meritocracy and most especially the idea that we should reward people for their talents and abilities. (Achievement is it’s own reward and we’re in danger of creating complex problems when we create prizes to heap on the already fortunate - I’ll come back to this issue in a later post). The other problem with the idea of meritocracy is that it assumes that we’re ‘good’ at spotting - or agreeing on what constitutes - talent and ability in the first place. Consider for a moment the artist Susan Philipsz who applied, and was rejected, for a place at Glasgow School of Art in the late 80’s. Earlier this year Philipsz was nominated for the Turner Prize, but considering the ‘masculinist’ track record of the Turner Prize judges (3 female winners in a quarter of a century) she probably stands less chance than she did of getting into Glasgow School of Art.

“If there were any sense that someone was going to win because of his or her gender or ethnicity, then the prize would lose all credibility.” - Nicholas Serota

References:

THORNTON, S. 2008. Seven Days in the Art World. Granta, London.

VAUGHAN, S. et al. (2008) Mind the gap : expectations, ambiguity and pedagogy within art and design higher education. In: L. Drew ed. The Student Experience in Art and Design Higher Education : Drivers for Change. Jill Rogers Associates Limited, Cambridge, pp. 125-148.

"Balancing Craft with Thought"

The Loggia, Glasgow School of Art, Jim Hamlyn, 2010

I’ve just started reading ART SCHOOL (propositions for the 21^st Century), a collection of essays edited by Steven Henry Madoff. There’s a rousing comment by Mark Dion on the back cover which ends:

“For those who dare to think and act in a utopian mode, this book is an invaluable instruction manual, manifesto, and blueprint. For entrenched entropic faculty and bureaucratic administrative hacks this book is a brick through their window.”

The first essay, by artist Ernesto Pujol, includes some excellent analysis of the current state of art education in the US, with clear echoes of the UK:

“Many schools are still struggling with artists who found a niche on their faculties during the 1970s and 80s and then stopped growing – an unexpected perversion of tenure, which was meant to secure and promote radical thinking.

As an alternative perspective the essay raises several provocative and much-needed observations and criticisms which would certainly benefit from wider distribution and discussion although, at times, Pujol’s suggestions are perhaps less persuasive than one might wish:

“Students should have to develop fully thought-out written proposals before, during, and after painting and sculpting. I don’t mean that they should do this simply to defend an image or object during individual and group critiques, as students have always done, but to learn how to justify that creation intellectually, beyond the subjective, in our visually dense and materially cluttered world. If they don’t want to do this, they have no business being professional contemporary artists.”

Whilst I’m somewhat sympathetic to this idea, I do think that it’s a little over prescriptive in that it clearly privileges the rational over the intuitive (a criticism recently leveled at me on this blog). However, if you visit Pujol’s own website he says:

“Due to the evolving nature of my art practice, which inhabits an intuitive not-knowing flow, the current working categories are only organizational tools, because the gestures deepen, and thus, interconnect over time.”

So, in the context of his own work, Pujol actually gives a clear acknowledgement to what we might call a ‘pre-critical’ stage in the working process: a not-knowing which, interestingly, is almost identical to Anish Kapoor in my previous post “The Threshold of Meaning”.

Earlier in the essay Pujol states:

“Students should receive training in the basic tools of conceptualism, such as scholarly research and literary writing, as applied to traditional painting, sculpture, printmaking, glass, ceramics, and photographic processes, making muscled and poetic gestures more conscious and articulate and balancing craft with thought, while also gazing selectively at other disciplines.”

Establishing exactly what the correct balance between craft and thought should be, is certainly an important issue. But I would question whether this necessarily demands such an explicit emphasis on scholarly research and literary writing in preference to wider forms of discourse – forms in particular which aren’t so readily co-opted by institutional conventions and control and which therefore encourage - or at least allow - students to construct, adapt, invent and negotiate their own more speculative discursive processes and domains.

So whilst Pujol’s description of the context of US art education is well informed and insightful, his understanding of the complexities, drives and potentials of art students seems a good deal more vague.

Having only read six of the essays in this book so far, I’m beginning to notice a common trend which combines clear insight into the machinations of art education with a comparatively narrow understanding of the varied backgrounds and perspectives of students and learning in general. In other words, interesting as these essays are - without a more robust conception and theorization of WHY people come to art school and especially HOW they learn and develop, what currency can these Propositions for the 21st Century really hope to have?

School of Life

“Ultimately, teaching art means teaching life.” –Boris Groys “Education by Infection” in MADOFF, S.H., ed., 2009. ART SCHOOL (propositions for the 21^st Century)

Room 42, Glasgow School of Art, © Lesley Punton & Jim Hamlyn, 2010

The Threshold of Meaning (a hermeneutic)

"Deluge", backlit photographic print. ©Jim Hamlyn 2010

“In the case of HE art and design courses, where students are often required to change their mode of operating and reconstruct their way of thinking, we often encounter the bewildered expression of those who no longer receive the accolades they have been used to receiving prior to their entrance to higher education.” (Vaughan et al. 2008)

I’d like to take an opportunity here to examine, a little more closely, a couple of issues which came up in a previous post about the common mismatch between the way the art is taught in schools as opposed to art schools and the role that 'meaning' plays in this troublesome transition.

Art classes in schools predominantly emphasize form, technique and imagination to the almost entire exclusion of interpretation and meaning. In this setting, art is perceived and promoted as a purely practical subject and its intellectual and discursive aspects - since they tend to resist quantification and assessment – are simply ignored by the curricula and are neglected by all but the most intrepid and determined of teachers. Many students arriving at art school are therefore surprised – daunted even - to find that the emphasis within many courses is significantly different. Suddenly a whole new edifice is confronting them which demands that they research, develop, consider, articulate, express and interpret meaning in the work they make and that of their peers and other artists. No longer are they expected simply to create imaginative, skillful, beautiful or original representations, but now they must become informed consumers of art and to understand what this stuff they're looking at actually means. Appreciation is no longer just about virtuosity, ingenuity, creativity, originality, beauty, skill, refinement or a litany of famous “Masters” but about ideas, concepts, issues, themes and content. No longer are they being assessed so much for their command of the medium, or even their hard work, but for the depth of their ideas and their articulacy in exploring and expressing them. Unsurprisingly many students begin to ask “why does art have to “mean” something, why can’t it just be beautiful?”

Art is a product of human action - some might call this free will, human ingenuity or creative purpose. However you view it, art is an experience produced by human intention and it’s the results of this intention which many other humans (artists, critics, historians and art lovers etc) wish to contemplate and understand. If there were no intention, then there’d be little point in trying to understand something, but then again, if there were no intention, there probably wouldn't be much to understand in the first place – certainly nothing in terms of ideas.

If we’re simply seeking beauty, we can gaze at the sheer wonder of the world and art simply pales by comparison, but if we want to know how we or other people view and interpret the world, then contemplating, discussing and making art are some of the best ways we can go about this.

"The picture which has the nobler and more numerous ideas, however awkwardly expressed, is a greater and a better picture than that which has the less noble and less numerous ideas, however beautifully expressed. No weight, nor mass, nor beauty of execution can outweigh one grain or fragment of thought.” –John Ruskin

It would seem then, that more than 150 years ago, people were already championing the notion that meaning is something to be strived for and valued in art. But what implications might this have for us artists? Are we expected to conjure up profundity from the ether and transform it into works of majesty and greatness? And if this is the case, wouldn’t the most intelligent artists be, without exception, the best? Fortunately this isn’t the case. Artworks which attempt to communicate an idea are often pedantic dismal failures doomed by a lack of awareness of the creative process as a whole. If making great art was simply a case of coming up with great ideas, then who’d actually need to make anything? - we could just explain the ideas. Skipping the fact that this strategy is sometimes advocated by artists, we can say that the constantly interweaving processes of making and thinking are a vital part of the ‘act’ of creating meaning, and as such, meaning doesn’t have to exist from the outset in the mind of the artist. Meaning can come into being through a gradual and accumulative but considered process of engaging with materials and processes: of making.

British Sculptor Anish Kapoor is often quoted thus:

“I have often said that I have nothing to say as an artist. Having something to say implies that one is struggling with meaning. The role of the artist is in fact that we don’t know what to say, and it is that not knowing that leads to the work.”

Unfortunately such statements can easily be misconstrued. The lack of clarity can be demonstrated by considering the following three examples:

1: Artworks which are made to communicate an idea.
2: Artworks which result from a speculative but informed process of experimentation.
3: Artworks which are the result of a inexpressible outpouring of creative genius.

The problem with Kapoor’s statement is that it suggests that art is formed through the kind of shrouded process as outlined in example 3, whereas the truth is almost certainly much closer to example 2. He might not be “struggling with meaning” as such, but his work is undoubtedly the result of a process and that process isn’t one of “not knowing” but of an evolution out of not knowing; of a gradual accumulation of certainties and the abandonment of error.

Finally then, let’s return the discussion to the plight of the student (to quote John Berger’s provocative essay). Sadly, a number of fine art courses (especially in more traditional subjects like painting or printmaking) continue to pay very little attention to discussing the meaning of the work that students produce. Instead they emphasise a mélange of techniques and a hotchpotch of styles and, if the students are lucky, there may be some discussion of more nebulous qualities of mood and feeling. Students on such courses might experience a smoother transition from school to higher education and may even continue to receive the accolades they have been used to. In a sense they’ll be fortunate to avoid the troublesome threshold of “Meaning”, but they’ll also be much less likely to experience the pleasures and insights of informed interpretation. This is one of the most lamentable consequences of the neglect of Meaning. The other, is the fact that some of these graduates will go on to become school teachers where – due to pitifully impoverished curricula - they’ll have no alternative but to promote the craft of art at the expense of its most profound, if not its most important aspect.

References:

BARRETT, T. (1988) Studies in Art Education, Vol. 30, No. 1, pp. 22-27 Available from: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1320648

BERGER, J. (1960). The Plight of the Student. In: Permanent Red. London: Methuen. 51-53. Available online from: http://ml-in.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=2330538503&topic=2829

SENECHAL, D. (2010). Teaching Without Gimmicks. Available from: http://voices.washingtonpost.com/answer-sheet/learning/teaching-without-gimmicks.html?wprss=answer-sheet

VAUGHAN, S. et al. (2008) Mind the gap : expectations, ambiguity and pedagogy within art and design higher education. In: L. Drew ed. The Student Experience in Art and Design Higher Education : Drivers for Change. Jill Rogers Associates Limited, Cambridge, pp. 125-148.