CIRCA 89 Art Education Supplement
1st ENCOUNTERS
How do we first encounter what we later learn to call ‘art'.
There seem to be layers to this encounter, of which the first is more or less unconscious—an attunement to the taste of our social formation, along class lines. We very quickly learn finely tuned responses to appearance, behaviour and social settings. Part of this learning is drill. How we go beyond that depends on many factors; one suspects that most persons who ‘become artists' have at some point had an epiphanic moment at which they realised (perhaps very young) that what was unconscious could be made into deliberate play. With this goes the perception that one might be able to imitate. (The role of a passionately involved imitative impulse seems to me seriously underestimated in art education at all levels.) At this point the knowing and more or less informed encounter with ‘art' becomes important.
This, of course, can happen in many ways. It may be within the normal rhythm of family life—"this is what we do together." An inspiring teacher is a great help. I have a clear memory of an illustrated children's encyclopedia over which I must have spent many hours looking, rather than reading. When I found this volume again after forty years I remembered with uncanny precision just which pages held which pictures. In no sense were these illustrations ‘good art', but that did not matter. Almost any visual material will do; just as it hardly matters what a child reads, so long as the child reads. Comics and cartoons will do. The degree of intelligent discrimination that children exercise on video games and television, not to mention shoes, is part of the same process. We begin to engage with the institutions of formal culture—fine art, entertainment, fashion. And we learn to talk about them.
These publications all deal with that moment—the child's encounter with museums and galleries. This usually coincides with their participation in ‘art classes' in school. How can these experiences be put together best? This is an important issue when the level of provision in schools is extremely variable.
The three publications being considered here are addressed to significantly different readerships so they can't be directly compared. The first, from the Irish Museum of Modern Art, is a celebration of several years educational work by a large group of teachers, artists and successive school children of most ages. It is a sleek and stylish production. The second, from the National Gallery of Ireland, is exactly what it says—an instructive handbook for young people. The third, from the Hugh Lane Municipal Gallery, Dublin, is directed at the children themselves, as an introduction to the experience of a museum and its contents.
The main difference between the educational programmes of the three institutions is that IMMA employs artists directly; often artists of high standing and experience. This comes not just from having a decent budget, but more importantly the willingness to use it boldly, over an extended period. As a result, the Museum has built up a repertoire of basic projects and workshops. There is every appearance of a well-established educational method which extends from the school art room across into the Museum by way of environments and visits. I write ‘appears' because, given the resources and the scale on which IMMA works, it is not difficult to find examples of good practice, wonderful images and lively text. This is a glossy production. It is not self-critical. What we need to know is the degree to which these teaching situations are truly formative of further teaching and learning, and how, finally, these experiences feed into the curriculum as a whole and inform the rest of children's education. That would need a more serious piece of writing, and I hope someone is doing it.
The National Gallery handbook is directed at the individual; while it suggests a number of practical teaching activities, these could mostly be carried out by the interested for their own self-instruction. The text assumes a good level of literacy and an enjoyment of learning, is very informative in an easy manner, and in the hands of a bright young person could lead on anywhere. Its intellectual context is entirely within an academic art history of a kind that now seems a shade retardaire, but that context is clearly delivered, not disguised. This reflects, of course, the ethos and the holdings of the National Gallery, which it is designed to serve; but standing back a little and putting oneself in the place of a young person—say 14 years old—who is wanting to learn, that is not a bad place to start from. In fact, this is a serviceable and well-written book, handsomely produced and doing what it sets out to do.
Picture This from the Hugh Lane, in both print and video, is very different. In the first place it is for children (the introduction mentions ‘young adults' but the vocabulary and visual language is surely for eight to twelve years); teachers are mentioned, but hardly ‘structured' into the text or story-board. This is, in principle, an ambitious idea; so where does it go wrong? Both parts of the publication are based around two antithetical characters—'Beefie' and ‘Brains'—who wander around the Hugh Lane Gallery interacting with one another and the art (just the pair of wee jackeens you would want to share a gallery with!). But what happens is that the focus is upon them, not the paintings and sculptures; and they are just too stereotypical to be interesting. In my view, the Gallery has underestimated the free curiosity and intelligence of the target audience—the children; and this is an unforgivable error.
It is the depth, the evidence of success, that is missing in all these and in all similar publications I have looked at. The assumption is made that an encounter with art is beneficial, but the result is always somewhere else. There are two main reasons why this must be so. First, because between the different parts of the formal educational system there is usually very little continuity where the visual arts are concerned. Compare, for example, music—where it is possible to go all the way through well-recognised grades of attainment. The second follows, because one can never tell when an early experience can be reactivated, or which child is learning what, if you don't have defined expectations. I can see no theoretical reason why visual competencies can't be acquired as methodically as musical competencies, except that popular superstition says otherwise.
And here we begin to touch on the central problem of all museum art-education programmes; on the one hand they are in the business of reproducing the next generation of visitors and so solidifying social conventions, and on the other they are committed to the natural virtue of the child's expression. But you can't both run with the hare of acculturation and hunt with the hounds of Rousseau. In this sense, the IMMA publication is well and truly impaled on its own horns; a position which, though uncomfortable, it shares with many others.
This is not a problem for individuals, children or teachers, who through energy and fun can get out of most dilemmas, but I think it is a serious question for institutions. Although considered unfocused in reader terms, the National Gallery fares best here, because the aims of Exploring Art are well within the academic framework which treats art as a body of knowledge.
David Brett writes on the visual arts and architecture. He is a Reader at the University of Ulster, Belfast, and a former Chairman of CIRCA; he also writes novels and plays for stage and radio.
A Space to Grow: New Approaches to Working with Children, Primary School Teachers and Contemporary Art in the Context of a Museum, ed. Helen O'Donoghue, Dublin: Irish Museum of Modern Art, 1999
Exploring Art at the National Gallery: a Handbook for Parents, Teachers and Young People, text Marie Bourke, Dublin: National Gallery of Ireland, 1997
Picture This: Looking at Art in the Hugh Lane Municipal Gallery of Modern Art, Dublin, Dublin: Hugh Lane Gallery 1997. Book and Video. (Daire O'Connell, Aidan Hickey, etc.)
