Whitney Stansell

I discovered Whitney Stansell’s work in the most mundane of places – a conference room. While the conference room was in the aggressively hip SCAD-Atlanta complex, it was still a space of utility, not art. Her long canvas, Muscular Dystrophy Fair, simultaneously matched the functional aesthetic of the room and transcended it. An eight-foot horizontal canvas in washed out neutrals depicts a linear narrative of a small neighborhood block party, with notations describing the action – parents wait for children to put on a play while they sell tickets, a man charges admission to listen to his LP of Kennedy speeches, a girl gives an interview to a reporter. It is funny, nostalgic and beguiling. Postmodern in a way, but too sincere and warm to be pure irony

I looked further into her work, and discovered a full exploration of this theme of nostalgia. Her first series, A First Date, A Funeral, and Moments In Between, is structured on family history, “a visual record of how images based on memories are layered and housed within the brain” (quotes drawn from artist’s statement). Muscular Dystrophy Fair is part of a series called An Iconography of an Imagined History, in which she constructs a history of her mother’s childhood growing up in a Catholic household from her own recollections of her mother’s stories. The images have a “1950’s storybook quality … to reflect the fact that these are stories I have heard throughout my life”, with colors chosen to match this aesthetic: pale blues and greens, the light browns of aging paper. Each work has a contour line composed of one continuous thread, sewn into the canvas – a reference to the “woman’s work” of craft, a familiar pastime for her mother, and the tool that mends torn garments. She explores these themes further in her recent series, Garment, a sculptural piece made from painted and stitched dress patterns.

I contacted Whitney this summer, and found her to be friendly and genuine, reinforcing the sincerity of her work. I asked her to answer some questions about her process for my students and she gamely responded with insights about her sketchbooks, use of source images and interest in experimentation. She even sent along photos of her latest work. What follows below is the text of this interview. Please check out her work, at http://whitneystansell.com/

Why do you paint?

I paint when I think it is the necessary medium in which I want to express my ideas. Sometimes I will draw with a marker, or draw by stitching with a black thread on a piece of raw canvas. I recently made a sculptural installation out of 1950’s women’s dress patterns. I think the medium can help to inform the message. Honestly, painting is a great deal of fun. All the possible colors one can make and the actual application are exciting to be apart of.

How do you know when a piece is working?

A piece is working when I am excited about it, when it is doing things for me visually as well as conceptually that I didn’t expect. I like for my work to surprise me. You can do a hundred thumbnails before beginning a piece, but you can’t figure everything out, and you shouldn’t. Sometimes you should trust yourself, and you ideas, and let it happen.

What do you do when it isn't?

Good question. Not often (I can think of three pieces out of about 35 in the past two years) that I just had to stop working on and start over. Honestly, if the piece is boring to me then I know I need to rework something about it.

Your work is fully realized thematically and visually. How do you develop concepts? How do you unlock the concept visually? Do you ever work in reverse (assigning meaning after completion)?

I think that some of the themes were discovered along the way….once you have a body of work that you are passionate about, the work just begins to build, and then suddenly you have a million possible directions to go in, and you should experiment and find what works best for you, and what you are trying to say. I spent time experimenting with the size and type of my text. (in a recent piece, that I will send you a jpg of) it took me a long time to figure out the size and placement of the text, (which I think was pivotal to the success of the piece) I really don’t think you have to have all the answers when you begin a work, just a few reasons for wanting to do it. Those reasons could be curiosity, a love for the subject, wonderment as to what happened to this or that person, or that event….. or what is going to happen if I do this…. I am not an abstract artist, but I have many friends who are, and there questions come from wondering what will the paint do if I do this? And that is interesting, and keeps them exploring.

To answer your question, how do I develop concepts? I work with things and ideas that mean something to me personally. That is most important to me. I simply then ask myself,,,,,, how can I make this into art.

Do you use source material?

Yes yes yes. I don’t see anything wrong with using source material. In fact, I think that artist imaginations work mimetically, I use my everyday surroundings in all of my work. So the Bakery in my paintings is the Bakery down the street. And the long row of houses in the Muscular Dystrophy Fair, are the houses behind my house. I also take a lot of pictures, and get different poses and body language from friends and family.

Do you let the work of others inspire you, or do you resist outside influence?

I do get inspiration from others. But I find that it is healthy to look at other types of artists, like filmmakers, or writers, or poets. That way you still have some work to do, and you don’t feel like you are simply re-doing something that has been done. It keeps it fresh. I look at a ton of art, because I love art. But I am not looking at art for it to necessarily inform my art.

What's in your sketchbook?

You know my husband, who is a filmmaker, gets onto me for not planning all of my compositions out in my sketchbooks. Like I said earlier, I take a lot of pictures, and spend a lot of time looking at them. I collage images to get a better sense of the way things could interact. So, my sketchbook is filled with lists. Lists of ideas. Lists of things I would like to do, and things I would like to try. I am also a big “imaginer” -meaning that I am always imagining a piece I want to work on. Most likely for two months I will imagine something before I ever begin even sketching. I do make thumbnails and sketches. They are usually very rough. I will only show my book to two people, it is that rough!

What advice would you give to your high school self?

Oh!! In high school I was in the art room A LOT. And I really enjoyed making work. I made A LOT of bad work. But, I just kept telling myself to work hard, and keep it up. Making is so much apart of who I am, that I really didn’t have a choice. J

So, my advice is, pursue your work with your whole heart. And work really really hard. And it is ok to make some cheesy stuff, and silly stuff. You should always be having fun. Its funny, you don’t want to take yourself to seriously, but then, you really want to believe in yourself, and take yourself so seriously. High school, is the time to have fun! And experiment.

Keith Haring

I admire much about Keith Haring’s process, but I am most interested in his stream of consciousness approach. He attributes his style to a moment of inspiration when he discovered his artistic vocabulary: He borrowed a friend’s studio for a day and set large, 4-foot sheets of oak tag on the floor, and began to draw with black sumi ink. Letting his subconscious be his guide, he drew through his then recent abstract style into new and surprising images that would become a complete vocabulary. This kind of stream of consciousness artmaking reminds me of the automatic writing experiments of the Surrealists – experimental and improvisatory, but also fun and playful.

I also respect his conscientious form of activism. Graffiti art is often considered criminal and anti-social, but his take on street art was community-enriching. He created work rich in social and cultural commentary, and he engaged in conversation with the viewer both literally and through his artwork. He made his artwork in the middle of the day, in public. His work did not confront as much as question the viewer. He did not destroy public property, but repurpose empty advertising displays – urban blank canvases. And he was conscious not to emulate the graffiti artists (whom he respected and admired) but to create a new style informed by their aesthetic.

Haring’s images – crawling babies, flying saucers, vibrating dancers – seem to invite a variety of interpretations from social commentary to satire or even a spiritual or universal ideal. Whatever the interpretation, it appears to be rich in meaning, and his images represent a fully-formed iconography that must have been born of some postmodern analysis. Like Mark Tansey, who reappropriated images and themes from art history to comment on critical theory, or Cindy Sherman, who reinterpreted iconic images of women to confront gender issues.

It was surprising to me to discover that this was not the case. He discovered his iconography in an almost spastic burst of the subconscious. His oak tag experiments, which took place in one day, gave birth to his “entire future vocabulary.” “I have no idea why it turned out like that,” he said. “It certainly wasn’t a conscious thing. But after these initial images, everything fell into place.” He would come to use these figures to comment directly on social issues, especially in his placement of images next to (or sometimes on top of) subway ads, but it is astounding to think that such a rich iconography can be traced back to one potent spark of imagination.

My artwork looks nothing like Keith Haring’s, but we do both seek meaning in imagery derived from the subconscious. I like to explore images of dreams and mystery, contrasting images with obscure contexts that invite the viewer to connect the dots, to achieve their own meaning. Giorgio De Chirico has often been an inspiration, and I think the common thread here is a play on the innate human desire to make sense of one’s surroundings, no matter how little help you are given by the artist.

This is where the similarities end. I have to labor to reach that subconscious level, it does not always come naturally to me. Haring’s work was improvisational; I work and rework my compositions in sketches. Using white crayon on a fixed-location surface, he could not edit. I edit furiously. His work was public; mine is private. His work was extroverted; mine turns inward. Though it seems everything about our processes differ, I would like to work the way he worked. I am always looking for that kind of freedom, but perhaps it’s been in the wrong places.

Keith Haring died of AIDS in 1990. He would have been 50 years old this May. A wonderful collection of his images can be found at the Keith Haring Foundation website.

Marcel Dzama

100,000 Years of Revenge, 2004, http://www.richardhellergallery.com

There is the peculiar feeling in a Marcel Dzama painting that you’ve woken up into a dream. The places are vaguely familiar and people unthreatening as they go about their business unaware of you. But as you rub your eyes and become more aware of where you are, there is a sense that there are problems here. Something is not right.

Last Winter Here, 2004, http://www.richardhellergallery.com

Oh yes, things are very wrong indeed.

Untitled, 2003, http://www.richardhellergallery.com

Dzama paints in a straightforward figural style, and his people and animal hybrids are reminiscent of mid-century illustrations or some hand-me-down children's book with yellowed pages. He uses a root beer base for his melancholic browns and khakis, and his figures bundle up in furs and overcoats appropriate for Dzama’s Winnipeg home. They smile, chat and link arms as they point and laugh at aliens, wrestle bears, and threaten to kill each other. And there are tree people.

Fearful Lineup, 2004, http://www.richardhellergallery.com

Some of it can be quite dark, but it is often darkly comic. His sketchbooks, recently published by McSweeney’s, reveal a sense of humor behind the surrealism. Hilariously appropriated magazine clippings (the mayor’s head atop a dinosaur with new caption: “Mayor Glen Murrayasaurus, I Love You!”), comic strips (Super Happy Fun Comic: “I wish my mother would stop lighting my bed on fire”), notes, Polaroids and sketches for costume pieces give some insight to the process. These aren't merely clever illustrations, but the work of a true artist with a brilliant (and enviable) imagination.

Untitled, 2007, http://www.artnet.com/

His work is quite fashionable these days – celebrities are driving his prices up and his paintings can be found on album covers by Beck and They Might Be Giants – but his work still connects at a deep, perhaps subconscious level. It’s not necessary to share his or his character’s experience (thankfully) because the otherworldly, dreamlike quality is universally beguiling. He is a sort-of modern day De Chirico in the sense that his work is simple, but implies a vaguely disturbing narrative beyond the image. There is also something classic and shopworn about his work that reminds me of the expressionistic, vintage-inspired films of Guy Maddin (also from Winnipeg).

Untitled, 2002, http://www.tate.org.uk

Dzama formed a group called The Royal Art Lodge with some like-minded artist friends in 1996 as a means to collaborate and share drawings and ideas. Each finished work they produce is sorted into piles of "good", "bad" and "OK", and stamped with a date. They apparently still meet once a week.

Art, Contemporary.

I am often asked by one of my students, usually following a discussion of modern art, “So what is going on in art today? What movement are we in?”

One of the biggest challenges of teaching art is the problem of contemporary art: How do you keep abreast of current trends and movements in contemporary art, and how do you determine which artists are relevant, lasting, or universal? It is too vast an ocean, it seems, and too deep with varieties of approach. Factors that helped create some formal or aesthetic commonality in the past – regional identity, shared faith, academic canon, mutual ideology – just do not exist the same way in our global culture. Is it a massive web of interrelated artists drawing from some collective database of influences, or a sea of individuals making art for a personal experience (a post-postmodernism?)

There are resources to help sift through the diaspora: online resources, local galleries and art magazines all offer some taste of what is currently happening in art. But perhaps the best resource is a series of books, webpages and videos made for PBS called Art: 21. The series focuses on current artists and organizes them according to themes such as romance, power, death, and so on. The artists chosen represent many different approaches, aesthetics, and nationalities, but all share an innate passion for art and creativity (and some degree of professional success). It is a well-presented series that offers a thoughtful and accessible overview of current trends in contemporary art.

So what movement are we in? Haven’t the foggiest.

Instead, I will post a few words about artists I discover here and there. Artists who interest me, or may be interesting to my students. Some come from Art: 21, some come from my own exploration, some… I don’t know where they come from. Perhaps after looking at several posts it will be possible to see a direction that contemporary artists are taking, but this will certainly be too incomplete a list to be indicative of anything more than my own passing fancy.

First up: Marcel Dzama.

New Art School is back! But different.

Too much has happened since my last post, so I will dispense with the detailed update. Here is what you need to know: I finished my first year at this new school, CH, and to answer my question below, “do the CH pros outweigh the HHS pros”? Yes. It is a wholly different experience, but put simply, yes. This is a destination job. I am teaching ideal classes (drawing and painting, graphic design, art history) in an academic community to students who by-and-large value creativity. I am able to make more meaningful connections with students, and I am still finding new challenges, both professional and personal. It is a very good place to be.

Another good place to be is grad school. I am now enrolled in a masters program at Ohio State University, and the function of this blog is going to change. While I still have funny stories about wacky things students (and sometimes I) say and do, I am going to use this blog in a different way. I will be using this space for some discussion of art education research and reflection on various practices. I invite discussion and feedback, so please do chime in if the spirit moves you.

Let me leave you with one funny story from last year (and the egg is on my face this time):

Art history student: “What was the relationship between van Gogh and Gauguin?”

Me: “Gauguin and van Gogh were close friends and similar artists, but very different personalities. Think of Gauguin as the yin to van Gogh’s wang.”

Class: (erupts in laughter)

Art history student: “Definitely putting that in my top 5 favorite teacher quotes on Facebook!”

Art, New School

"But you definitely won't have students humping each other in class, that's for sure"

This was the last phrase in a long list of "pros" we brainstormed that ultimately outweighed the "cons" in a dilemma I didn't expect to have this summer: I have decided to leave my current position to take a job at another school.

A little backstory: When we were living in Pittsburgh and finishing our teacher training, we hadn't really considered looking outside the area for jobs, even though the job situation was bleak in southwestern PA. It was on a whim that K (my wife) found a media specialist position open at CH, a renowned and prestigious public high school in the NC college town where she went to undergrad, and a short distance from her home town. Too good to pass up, yes? That's what her interviewing committee thought as well, when they picked her from over 100 applicants.

I got my job at HHS and you only need to skim a few previous posts to see how that went. But to recap: a troubled, resegregated school with strong neighborhood pride and also some strong neighborhood problems. In short, an academic disaster. Look at April/May posts to see the kinds of behavior problems that were customary.

In spite of this environment I was relatively successful in my short tenure. I made some worthwhile connections with students and even had a few breakthroughs along the way. I worked closely with the other performing arts teachers on the musical productions, and I helped to establish a visual art course in the International Baccalaureate program. Plus, it was a thrill to see our National Art Honors Society kids plan and enact an after-school art club for the nearby elementary school.

All of these things outweighed the kid who dropped his pants in class or the girl who cussed me out. Because, in part, I knew that my problems were not as severe as other teachers who were unable or unwilling to make a personal connection with the students. Also, it is often rare that good things outweigh the bad (waiters always remember the 1 bad table, not the 10 good ones), so I knew that these things must have really been true assets. That's why it was not hard to decide to stay at least one more year, even after being emotionally beaten down and exhausted at the end of the first. The next year still looked promising.

So why did I take a job at a different school?

It wasn't because HHS was a difficult school, or because I was unhappy in my placement. Quite the contrary, I told everyone at the end of the year that I had no intention to leave (In fact, teachers and students are reluctant to get to know new teachers because of the high turnover rate). In the back of my mind, however, there were two area schools that could tempt me away from HHS: The district's School for the Arts, and CH.

As it happened, the 30-year veteran art teacher at CH retired without warning this summer. Art teacher jobs are precious and rare commodities, despite the nation-wide teacher shortage, and a job at an academic school with a strong art tradition was impossible to ignore.

So what are the pros and cons, anyway?

Well, the pros are many. It is a school with a strong arts tradition. It has high student participation in visual arts, with students that go on to major in studio art or art history. It is in the process of becoming an arts academy, with which I will be involved (sure to be the subject of future posts). I will be teaching an AP Art History course. And, yes, behavior issues are very different at a school in an academic community. Oh, right, and my wife works there, too! (Indeed a plus - she student taught at my first school)

Cons include a faculty in a state of flux and the fact that this is an affluent community in which students will be successful regardless of who the art teacher is.

Do the CH pros outweigh the HHS pros? It is too soon to say. I hope so. I believe I am making the right decision, because I believe CH is a better fit for me. I did not choose this school because it is where my wife teaches, or because it will be easier (whatever that means) to teach there. I am sure I will find a way to make it hard.

I chose this school because it will challenge, and hopefully reward, everything I love about teaching.

I can say that I leave HHS with great affection, and with the feeling of unfinished business. I am truly disappointed that I did not fulfill my promise to students that I would stay for more than one year. They have become so accustomed to teachers coming and going that new teachers are often greeted with "Hi, I'm ___, are you gonna be here next year?"

I always answered that question "yes".

As it turns out, I am just another teacher who lied to them, who let them down. Art students who will be seniors this year will have had a different art teacher all four years. I am ashamed of this, and am especially sorry to the advanced and IB students with whom I had such a close relationship. But these students will be able to take care of themselves. I feel if I have betrayed anyone it is the student who maybe didn't care about school until my class. To that student, I want to say I'm truly sorry. I am sure they will have another, perhaps better, art teacher but I am sorry that I wasn't true to my word. Ultimately it is a professional decision, and one that I hope is properly reasoned.

My arts partners at HHS will be missed, as will the supportive principal. But I will most miss the great friends and mentors (why is this plural? there is only one Mary Beth) that made the experience so rich. I don't like the air of finality to this post, because I fully intend to raise a happy hour glass with them as often as possible this fall.

Now, who will I root for in HHS homecoming game against CH??

(by the way, CH's colors are black and gold: coincidence?)

Where is New Art School?, Revisited

Oops!

I realized, thanks to an email suggesting so, that the statement "big changes" next to a postcard from San Francisco would lead one to believe that New Art School is relocating to the Bay area. Not so. Just vacationed there.

More later...

Where is New Art School?

Why is the last post dated "May"? Why is there nothing posted in June or July? Perhaps it seems to you, dear occasional reader, that New Art School has gone on some sort of summer vacation. It is true. It has.

However, big changes are afoot for New Art School as the new year winds up. Once the dust settles and next of kin is notified, it will be posted about in detail. Please come back.

Pacman going to see Jesus

"It's pacman. And he's going to see Jesus."

For our project on surrealism, one student is painting exactly that. It's pacman. Going to see Jesus. The big yellow guy is on one side, gobbling up ice cream cones on his way across the page to a cross.

"See? It's pacman going to see Jesus!" he keeps telling me.

I helped him draw the pacman ghosts as angels with wings and a halo. He graciously let me keep it as a sample for future classes. It is the funniest thing I have ever seen.

"It's pacman. Going to see Jesus!"

Also, as part of the project, students read some surrealist literature and composed a surreal story to accompany their painting. Below, the legend of pacman going to see Jesus. A new religion, anyone? (Is it any less plausible, or relevant to modern times, than the Mormon bible?)

My First Bruise

Just below the knuckle of my left-hand forefinger there is a dime-sized bruise growing steadily darker. It is the result of my feeble attempt to break up two students who were aggressively play(?)-fighting by slamming each other into the wall. I don't know how it happened, this bruise. I only remember strained faces and grunts, a laughing audience, and one of them stopping the fight because they lost their balance.

"Damn, I tripped over Mr. W's big-ass feet", he breathlessly reassured onlookers.

Interesting Sketchbook Entries, part 4

ASSIGNMENT: Read the quote below and respond in two short paragraphs. First, what does he mean - how does a "painter" become an "artist"? Second, according to him, are you an "elephant" or an "artist"?

Painting is one thing but art is another. You can teach an elephant to paint, but you can't teach it to be an artist. (Warren Criswell)

DE, grade 10: "You can paint but I think it would be hard 2 teach a elephant 2 paint not less he little. aint no big elephant going 2 listen 2 u not less u train them when they are baby's"

19 Days til Summer

A Teacher Detached

Lowered standards? New perspectives? A war veteran's tolerance for traumatic experience?

How else can I explain the matter-of-fact comments that I enter in my book labeled "Student Contact Info", which is really a notebook in which I catalog student (mis)behaviors to justify points docked or earned on their daily process grades. Sometimes I cannot believe what I am writing - what I am willing to accept to get a student to create art. A sample, DM, 4th period, 5/11:

"Used excessive profanity and pulled pants down to expose his behind, but was otherwise on-task and respectful"

Rate My Teacher

Time to grade the teacher!

I have been mentally compiling a report card for myself, to be completed at the end of the year as a tool for reflection and to identify things to work on over the summer. Now that I have finally put pen to paper - or finger to keyboard, as it were - I am posting the report card in advance so that I can keep these areas in mind, and also share with folks who might be similarly inclined. Here 'tis:

TEACHER NAME _________________
SCHOOL _______________________
SCHOOL YEAR __________________
YEARS OF EXPERIENCE ___________

SUBJECTS:

1. Developing Meaningful Lessons A B C D F
2. Engaging Delivery of Instruction A B C D F
3. Making Personal Connections With Students A B C D F
4. Effective Behavior Management A B C D F
5. Effective Discipline A B C D F
6. Consistency A B C D F
7. Attitude A B C D F
8. Professionalism A B C D F
9. Developing Relationships With Colleagues A B C D F
10. Additional comments:

FINAL GRADE (AVERAGE): _______

STRATEGIES FOR SUCCESS:

"These Things Are Sent To Try Us"

Before school begins, B pulls me aside to ask a "huge, huge favor". Can she take 30 minutes to finish typing a paper that is due the following period, she asks. She was absent on Friday when we started this new unit on color theory and today is Monday. I tell her that I would like to help her but she has to be here for all of the work we are going to do today. Distressed, she says she will "just leave, then, because I have to do this". Why didn't she do it over the weekend, I ask? She says her computer wasn't working. I apologize, but tell her she needs to be here today - I don't want her to fall behind in my class (she is very often absent or late).

She walks out.

I write an administrative referral before the day has even begun.

During the next period, SH ignores the warm-up activity to methodically pick out her hair weaves, leaving them in a pile on the table in front of her. When I (politely) ask her to stop, she reminds me that "it's just hair" and that apparently I have hair, too. When I, in calm and friendly voice, tell her she has to stop grooming herself and instead do her work, she becomes indignant and defensive. "I'm not grooming myself, Mr W! God! Why do you gotta be like that??"

Why do I gotta be like that, I ask myself? For a moment, I try to think if it's alright that there is a pile of hair in front of my student, who is not doing any work. Ultimately, I resolve that it is still not OK, even if it means in deciding so that I'm going to have to continue this absurd conversation.

"This isn't Cosmetology class", I jab. "I know that! Duh!" she parries. After discussing the way she talks to teachers ("I've got to work on that, I know"), she sweeps the hair debris into the trash can and starts to draw.

This was only a quaint warm-up for what would happen in fourth period.

As students filed in after the late bell for fourth period, a crowd began to gather around perennially disengaged SP (an anecdotal aside: she is the only student I've ever had who has not turned in a single project). They were watching - loudly watching - the bootiest of booty-shaking rap videos on a video iPod. One of the more cavalier boys shows me the video on the iPod, certain I will get swept away in its charms. Without giving a customary and admittedly wimpy warning, I confiscate the iPod. Goes straight into a drawer in my locked office.

After getting the class settled, I begin to give a brief introduction to color theory when I am interrupted by JH, who is raising his hand. This class never raises hands, unless there is a joke or a bathroom request.

"What is it, JH?"

He farts.

The rest of the class reacts in the only natural way a room full of teenagers could react. And inside I am cracking up. But I've got to keep it together - I am supposed to be in charge. I stammer through some more requests for order while going over the quickest, most abbreviated intro to color theory ever performed.

JH farts again. SP says I am "boring". Other conversations continue, oblivious to the art class that has stalled out. If pairs of eyes looking at a teacher indicate the number of students paying attention, then I have zero students paying attention.

I conclude the color theory lesson (with a few token, reassuring "I was listening Mr. W"s) and move back to my desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see an altercation in the corner. It is JH. He is wrestling... no, humping a girl in the corner. It is playful, I hope, and everyone seems to be laughing, but I have actually spoken to him about this at least a half-dozen times ("Sexual harassment, JH! You don't want to mess with that!"). I tell him to gather his things, he is going to CHOICES (a kind of separate setting time-out). He makes big stage tears and cries "boo hoo!" and preens his way to the door.

While I am filling in the CHOICES form, SP has discovered a passion for her confiscated iPod, and is demanding it back immediately. And in no uncertain terms (unless "motherf***in" is an uncertain term). She wants it back right now, and is not going to wait for me to finish what I'm doing.

"SP, you will get it back at the end of the period, now have a seat, please."

"No, this is bulls**t, I want my g**d*** iPod!". She is now opening the drawers of my desk.

"SP, you need to sit down!"

JH continues to mock me with big baby cries, rubbing his eyes that he has to go to CHOICES.

Meanwhile, a student is walking around the class with his pants around his ankles. It is KM. He wants to go to CHOICES, too, to be with JH. He is putting on an act. Other parts of this act will include incredible sailor-like profanity, dancing on the counter, and making himself gag in the sink. I make him suffer through having to stay in art class.

JH is on his way to CHOICES (I will later learn that he never made it there). SP is also out the door. She is cussing me out, saying I need to take control of my "motherf***in class", that my class is "bulls**t", and that she is not coming back. An assessment I understand, but can only feel is ironic coming from the most out-of-control element.

Later, it is revealed that the iPod did not even belong to her. It was borrowed from another student in the class. The day begins - and now ends - with an administrative referral.

"These Things Are Sent To Try Us"

This phrase often runs through my head on days like today. It is the title of a song by the band Clearlake, and actually it is the lilting chorus featuring the title that runs through my head. The song is about romantic dissolution: not my particular problem today, thank goodness, but after a day like today I can share the sentiment that the things we endure must be the product of a curious and mischievous higher power.

There are 27 days left until summer. I count them down now, but there will soon be 180 days until the next summer. And then another 180 days. And another. I must remind myself that the goal is not to get out of this, but to be in it in the best possible way. These things are sent to try us. And it can be won.

Right? ... Right??

Is Target still hiring?

The Wiz

My job-within-a-job at this school is one I did not see coming: set designer. A couple friendly conversations at the beginning of the year with my department head, the theater director, and I am asked to design the set for our fall musical, Dream Girls. Sure, sounds like fun, think I. Plus the design is to be a half-dozen abstract obelisks. Right up my constructivist alley, I beam. After trying to orchestrate the energetic and oh-so-untrained hands of student volunteer painters, I am smacked with the reality of just how much work I have signed up for. The "design" part only lasts a few hours in the quiet of home over a sketchbook. The sketches are consulted with a builder who constructs the pieces and returns them to me where the grunt work is done with drop cloths, paint rollers, ladders, fussy teenagers and lots of loud noise. And did anyone mention that it would take place every day after school for 2 weeks?

Reluctant to revisit the experience, I agree to help paint (but not design) the set for the Black History Month play, Joy's Story. An altogether different experience, this time I am working alone after rehearsals are done. Just an art teacher with a paint roller and some headphones. It is a completely different experience. How can it be possible that one person alone can do the work faster than 6 untrained teenagers? And does this confirm my growing suspicion that I am a sociopath?

The spring musical, The Wiz, was promised to be the biggest production yet (in celebration of our director's twentieth year and looming retirement). With complicated choreography and a raucous soul/funk score with full chorus, it was an ambitiously elaborate (by high school standards) production that required an equally ambitious set. My original design was much more ambitious than realistic, apparently. It was significantly scaled back by the budget-conscious builder and the director who was sensitive to elementary-school children who might possibly be scared off by the headless mannequin torsos on the evil witch's throne (oh, but it looked so cool in the drawings!)

So what you see below is a compromise, but that is all part of creation in collaboration, and it was an outstanding experience from start to finish. In my year at this school I have been fortunate to work closely with this team of talented professionals, and I am proud to represent the visual arts in a school with such a successful performing arts legacy. It is a kind of synergy and solidarity that may be a rare thing (my last school was quite the opposite), and it is one of the things I think of when I question why I teach where I teach.

And oh yes, the kids involved in this play were fantastic.

A special thank you belongs to H, whose invaluable assistance went largely unrecognized. Pictures and notes!:


The cornfield where Dorothy encounters the Scarecrow. (By the way - do you know what a "scary tree" looks like? In the background is my attempt to answer this request)


Kansas farm house, front.


Kansas farm house, back.


Munchkin dwellings


Emerald City gate


Emerald City gate


Emerald City (really just the back of The Wiz's throne. Original design prohibitively large)


The Wiz's throne. (Or is it Flash Gordon's throne?)


Evillene's throne. The pipes emit smoke, and the chair is a false chair that pulls back when the evil witch melts and disappears. Again: original design several times bigger and to incorporate mannequin parts and working televisions tuned to static.


Fairground columns for the good witch's appearance

A roomful of city planners, part 3

Like any Art I-level project, the final cityscape drawings submitted by students were a wildly mixed bag. There were a handful of architectural masterpieces, a broad mid-range of serviceable drawings, and the usual last-minute horrors: a tangle of unfinished lines, creases and rips. In addition to the finished drawing, I asked students to submit a written response in which they would reiterate the objectives of the project and identify various conflicts, analyze how another student resolved the conflicts, and then discuss their own choices. As noted in previous posts, resolutions of the social conflicts (scroll down for the 10 criteria) were based on assumptions made by students. Here are a few of examples [note: no spelling/grammar
corrections]:

1. The low-rent apartments were projects.
In AM's comment below, there is the assumption that the low-rent apartments are one of the "black things". This was not indicated in the criteria, but the assumption is a fair one: there are at least three housing projects zoned for our high school.

2. The white-owned chain restaurant was assumed to be upscale.
This opinion was only verbalized by a few students, but seemed to be assumed by many in the final cityscape drawings. For example, when dividing the city into rich and poor sides, the chain restaurant was often on the rich side as P.F. Chang's or Outback, when it could just as easily be on the other side as Biscuitville or Bojangles.

3.The sewage treatment plant is unsanitary or smelly.
One of the few areas where I guided discussions. The sewage treatment plant is an essential city service, but an unseemly one. How would a city cope with this potential menace, and who would have the power to decide, and where does this power come from? All agreed that the plant would be an olfactory nuisance, and that power is derived from wealth, so it would most
likely be placed near the poor side of town, where people are less inclined to protest. Some assumptions:
AB: "One big conflict would of happened if I would of put the sewage plant beside a restaurant because you would smell a bad smell when you eat so that was my conflict."
KB: "His sewage is right by a [clothing] store and the smell might leak into the clothes"
MH: "Conflicts that arose from these few items were that the hospital couldn't be by the sewage treatment plant because that's unsanitary."

4. The hospital is expensive.
For those without health insurance, the hospital is a forbidding place.
KB: "[I put] the hospital more over to the rich side b/c they can pay for it."

These assumptions led to the following compositional choices:

1. The restaurants could not be placed side by side, as they would be in competition.
MH: "The chain restaurant couldn't be by the 'mom & pop' restaurant because there would be too much competition."
DH: "One conflict I faced is to make sure I do not put the two restaurants by each other."

2. The low-rent apartments shouldn't be near the colleges.
Some students assumed that, since the low-rent apartments were housing projects, expensive colleges (such as our very elite one) would bristle at having them next door. In this case I helped to guide the choices, reminding them that college students live on a very low income and would need housing as well. This encouraged discussions about housing around nearby
NCCU.

3. The sewage treatment plant should be placed near the low-rent apartments, not near businesses.
Again, the sewage treatment plant is seen as an aggressively offensive necessity, but one that should be kept away from those with wealth.
KB: "[I put] the dump over by the cheap apartments because they can't afford to have complaints."
Anon: "I put all the white-owned businesses on one side and all the black owned store near the sewage company."
BA, referencing a student's work in which the sewage plant sidles up next to a Macy's: "I do not agree with the way he planned their city because he put a sewage next to a clothing store. Oh no."

4. Or, the sewage treatment plant should be placed as far away as possible.
AB: "I arranged my cityscape with my sewage plant looking like it was in a far distance and the rest of them was up close. I resolved my conflict by putting the sewage plant in a far distance away from all of the other buildings."

5. Buildings had to be grouped according to economic strata.
AA: "My city was arranged in a way were your lower class people lived on the side of town where there are lower class shops. I put the sewage behind everything because nobody wants to live by waste. I feel great about my work. I did a great job." And discussing another student's work: "Like myself, this artist put all the lower class together because that's the only way
business can survive.

6. And thus, wealth belongs to white people, poverty to black people.
The common thread throughout all of these works was the economic divide along racial lines. The criteria identified black- or white-owned businesses, and identified upscale and low-rent entities, but never combined the two. When creating an economically divided city, the upscale was grouped with the white, the downscale grouped with the black. This can be seen in
many of the comments throughout the project.

7. Equity and convenience, with sensitivity to business competition, were major issues for most of the city planners.
KB: "I arranged my city so that the urban could be with the urban and the rural could be with the rural. I put the bank right in the middle so both sides of the city could get to it and the hospital more over to the rich side b/c they can pay for it... I put my barber shop by the collage and hospital so they could donate hair to cancer patients and the students could get a haircut"
IK: "I arranged my cityscape very carefully. The mom + pop isn't too close to the chain restaurant. The apartments are close to the college for the convenience of students, the bank and hospital are also close by. The sewage plant is on the outer city limits so it doesn't cause problems."
AJM: "I drew the bank in the middle of the city so both sides [black and white] could have the opportunity to get there at the same time."
AP, who drew a complex, multi-block cityscape, first responded to student NM's drawing, highlighting the convenience and fairness of the city plan: "He arranged his cityscape with alot of place that are nicely grouped together. Everything is placed convenient for the 'people' of this city. I think the way that he solved the conflicts was by using an example of a real city and how its set up and just played off those factors. I do agree with his city plan because its very elaborate and well thought out. I think the only problem this city could face is that money (income) would be a major problem". Discussing her own choices, she says "I arranged my cityscape with all of the buildings that 'make sense' sitting side by side on the same blocks. I also put things together that that could benefit each other by the convenience of them being side by side. For example the mom & pop restaurant and barber shop combined bring in more business for each other and play off each others income."
IK: "Each building had to be placed carefully so not cause disturbance or competition between each business."
ED: "I gave the sewage plant some space. I put Durham Regional [Hospital] in the back b/c I know they need a lot of room. I put NCCU by apartments + condos b/c that would be like dorms for them."
KB: "This man has the hospital right in the middle of his town so both sides could get to it. But his bank is to far away from the shopping centers... But i like the fact that the mcdonalds is right by the collage because the studant can just walk to go get something to eat."
ED: "The problems will probably make someone go out of business."

I was deeply heartened by these responses, as they demonstrated true engagement beyond the simple mechanics of drawing in two-point perspective. I watched students make observations about their situation, and reflect these observations in their work. I overheard meaningful discussions about race and class, opportunity and equity. I witnessed students taking apart their city and putting it back together again. Even if it was the same as it was before, they did so with their own power.

If I had a disappointment, it was that students drew such a clear divide between white wealth and black poverty. I had hoped that, through this project, students could use their agency to design a city plan that is equitable for all citizens, or one that proposes opportunities for escaping poverty. If they identified racial, social or economic conflicts, this could be their opportunity to mend them.

This was perhaps a misguided goal, as it asked students to ignore reality. What the students gave me was a reflection of a very real city. The choices they made demonstrated what they believe to be true, and in many cases it was accurate to our city's unique situation. How could I fault them for being true to reality, for being cynical of wealth and power, for being defeatist in their own situation, for being frustrated with inequity, for simply being honest?

A roomful of city planners, part 2

"I wanted to split the two worlds up. I wanted the black things to be [together], such as the haircut places and the low rent apartments." - AM, 10th grade

This statement comes from one of the written reflections submitted by Art I students at the end of the Urban Planner/Cityscape project, and it speaks to the kind of choices made by students in the process of arranging a city with civic, social and economic conflicts. In addition to the compositional choices illustrated by these reflections, I became aware that students were making assumptions about the required content of the drawings. These assumptions would underscore my student's situational context more than than the self-reflection and analysis in their own words could. Though I shouldn't be, I am surprised to find that I learned more about my students from their process than the end product, especially this role of situation as compositional tool.

The 10 criteria for the cityscape had the potential to raise several issues in student thinking, and my goal was to present the criteria without comment to allow the students to establish their own hierarchy of concerns. To recap, the 10 entities that students needed to include in their drawings are as follows:
1. Bank
2. Hospital
3. Apartments (low rent)
4. Condos (upscale)
5. Institution of Higher Learning
6. Sewage Treatment Plant
7. Mom & Pop Restaurant - African-American-owned
8. Chain Restaurant - White-owned
9. Barber Shop - African-American-owned
10. Clothing Store (inexpensive) - White-owned
In reflection of our city's real-life context, these entities could potentially highlight the conflicts that keep the city from progressing as quickly as our more cosmopolitan immediate neighbors. In particular, there are deep-seated racial issues that continue to exist: the city is roughly split down the middle between black and white with a burgeoning Hispanic population. There is a wide class division, emphasized by the elite private university and its largely affluent, out-of-town student body. This class division exists due to the economic disparity of the city, with little common ground between rich and poor. There are naturally social issues that arise from these other conflicts, including racial prejudice, gang activity and a rising crime rate, which inspires further bias in the residents of the neighboring cities. Other civic issues could be brought up, including urban redevelopment and gentrification. And would students make any mention of the flourishing arts community or high-tech, research-based industries?

In observing student group discussions, conferencing with them one on one, and reading written responses, I determined that students made important assumptions that would persuade the content of their cityscape drawings, and these assumptions were based on their own situation. Because of the lack of diversity in my school, the situation is common to most students: the school is predominantly African-American (greater than 90%), with a large portion of the school from middle- and lower-income households. To say the school is struggling academically would be overly polite - it is at the bottom of the district's test scores, and a state consortium has threatened to close the school if scores do not improve. At the same time, the school is a long-standing point of pride in its community, with a national alumni organization and strong sense of tradition. The performing arts department has been successful for years and continues to attract positive attention.

With the commonality of racial and economic backgrounds in the school, I expected race and class to play the biggest role in compositional choices. I also expected to be confronted about these issues as a white teacher. With the class disparity in this city divided along racial lines, I expected to be held as a symbol of affluence as well. This did not happen. My students are savvy enough to know that a person from affluence would not find a public school teacher's salary acceptable.

In the next post, I will identify the assumptions my students made, and will list the choices that resulted from these assumptions.

[To those of you - both of you! - who read this blog, I apologize for the infrequent posts lately. I've been swamped with the spring musical, and hope to get my act back together...]

Interesting Sketchbook Entries, part 3

Results are still coming in for the Urban Planner project. So until then, a placeholder:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by J, 10th grade

- "Draw a comic strip aobut how you spent your [Thanksgiving] holiday"

First frame: A happy woman holding a baby.
Second frame: 3 weeping figures around a coffin, with text that reads "R.I.P. Baby Matthew".
Third frame: The same woman from the first frame, now weeping, in front of a table full of food.

A roomful of city planners

My primary goal as a teacher, at its loftiest and most philosophical, is to create meaningful, living content for students that encourages critical analysis and self-reflection. Unfortunately, this is the first thing to disappear from view when bogged down by assessments, paperwork, classroom management and endless faculty meetings. Too often I let the students try to find their own meaning in a project as I rush through the introduction in an effort to get their hands busy. But now that I have the benefit of a year's previous experience and a semester under my belt in my current placement, I am able to focus more on these overarching goals - what Neil Postman refers to as the "ends of education", not the means. The means are the technical and mechanical aspects of schooling: standardized testing, integration of technology, methods of remediation and so on. The greater issue, the one that determines the true value of school, is a metaphysical one. "It is important to keep in mind that the engineering of learning is very often puffed up, assigned an importance it does not deserve," he writes in The End of Education. "To become a different person because of something you have learned - to appropriate an insight, a concept, a vision, so that your world is altered - that is a different matter. For that to happen, you need a reason. And this is the metaphysical problem I speak of."

My students are halfway through a project that, in the past, was much more technical than metaphysical. It is called Cityscapes, and in this project, students draw an urban street corner scene using 2-point perspective. Linear perspective is one of those basic art skills that needs to be covered in Art I, either explicitly or implicitly. A good project will embed technique into meaningful, student-driven content, but occasionally there are techniques that are more often studied, at least in part, in isolation before being applied to artwork. Clay technique, and printmaking strategies for example. I had always assumed that linear perspective was one of these techniques as well.

For those who don't know, linear perspective is the graphic system for creating the illusion of depth using lines: the tunnel vision-style of one-point perspective, or the street corner-style two-point. Of all art processes and concepts, it is the one that most resembles a mathematical formula or scientific principle: follow a set procedure, achieve a predictable result. The art teacher is usually in the business of encouraging and rewarding divergent, creative responses, but linear perspective produces convergent, similar responses. It is usually covered in middle school, but since art is not a core requirement after the 5th grade, some of my students may not have had art since elementary school. The challenge becomes to teach a relatively dry subject in a new way. Standard linear perspective projects include Dream Bedrooms (design your fantasy bedroom using one-point perspective) and Cityscapes (design a street-corner scene using two-point perspective). Both have the potential to be fun and creative, but on its own linear perspective is fairly rote, dry stuff.

With the help of my mentor and some inspiring passages by Postman and Paolo Freire, I brainstormed a way to give this project real-world problems, a cultural connection, opportunities for collaboration and meaningful critical analysis. After teaching the principles of perspective and letting students practice it for several days on worksheets and observational activities in the hallway and classroom, I proposed a challenge. They would be required to include 10 different entities in their cityscapes - businesses, living spaces, city services, etc - that would be replaced by actual local entities of their choice. The dilemma: some of these entities may be in conflict with each other. Role-playing as City Planner, how would they acknowledge the issues that exist in our city, resolve some of these conflicts, and design a city plan that is safe, productive and equitable?

The 10 entities are:
1. Bank
2. Hospital
3. Apartments (low rent)
4. Condos (upscale)
5. Institution of Higher Learning
6. Sewage Treatment Plant
7. Mom & Pop Restaurant - African-American-owned
8. Chain Restaurant - White-owned
9. Barber Shop - African-American-owned
10. Clothing Store (inexpensive) - White-owned

Our city has a population split approximately down the middle between black and white (with a burgeoning Hispanic population). It is a southern city, and has a typically unsavory history of racism and segregation. There is also an economic disparity split roughly along racial lines, with a giant, glaring symbol of this rift in the form of an elite private college populated largely by affluent white students from outside the community, especially New England. The nation
learned of our city's racial and economic disparity less than a year ago when several of this university's athletes were accused of raping an African-American student from a neighboring, historically black college.

How would my students address these issues? Would they acknowledge or ignore these problems? Would they, all but a handful being African-American, resent discussing these issues with a white teacher? Would they keep things in the city the way they are, if given the power of an urban planner, or would they try to fix problems that they see?

We've gone pretty far beyond a Dream Bedroom in one-point perspective now.

I broke students up into groups and proposed some of these questions. I let them discuss it for 10 minutes or so, sketching some ideas for their city plan, then had them share their results. I circulated the room while they collaborated, and was impressed with the level of engagement in most groups. Discussions were meaningful and often intense. Disagreements occurred, often settled by a debate about the logic of a certain scenario. For example, it was difficult for students to resolve the issue of the sewage treatment plant. It couldn't be put near a living space or a restaurant or a hospital. Where do cities usually place such things? How could they include this urban necessity, while still being fair to the population?

Some sample discussions:

R & E (period 4) decided that the low-rent apartments should go downtown so that those people could have access to the things they need. They also put the bank and the restaurants downtown as well. They placed the upscale condos far on the edge of town, thinking that the wealthier people could afford cars/transportation, while low-income residents would need to walk.

Bright & creative K (period 4) surprised me by designing a city that was essentially the way it is now: a racially and economically segregated city. The chain restaurants ("upscale" by her assumption) were placed next to the college, bank and upscale condos. The mom & pop restaurant and barber shop - both black-owned - were placed near the low-rent apartments, which sidled up to the sewage treatment plant.

A, a distracted kid who is usually more interested in the remote control for my stereo than any art project, asked why there wasn't a library in the cityscape. Together, we decided there should also be a school and a grocery store for future projects.

The students have just begun to produce final drawings of their cityscapes, incorporating all of these themes and ideas. The culminating activity will be a gallery walk, where students observe and discuss each other's work, then produce a written response about the exercise.

As results come in, I hope to record them here. In the meantime, I will look ahead to future projects and redesign them so that the focus continues to be about the ends of education, not the means.