displaying and sharing art

This post is written by Lexi Earl, on her time at Welling School in Kent.

When I arrived at Welling School in Kent, I was immediately fascinated by the ‘mini gallery’ space in reception – a tall glass cube, filled with objects. It displayed work by Year 8 students, responding to work by American artist Judith Scott. These were vibrant, colourful balls that used thread and textiles to create new art from found objects. The wall next to this mini gallery was filled with posters advertising the school’s ‘alTURNERtive’ prize – a yearly art competition for students.

 

Welling is an art specialist school and there is a lot of opportunity to partake in art of various kinds, but what struck me in the first few moments was the clear importance of sharing and showing students’ work. In my few months on this project, I have noticed how students talk about sharing their work, and how comfort with sharing appears to develop over time – younger students tend to be more cautious about sharing their developing art works, whereas their older peers are sharing on social media and engaged in conversation with other young artists.

Students I spoke to clearly knew that their school valued the arts, their art in particular, and showcased this in various ways.

Art has always been very big in the school. I just think that it is appreciated.

They have an awards ceremony as well. The alTURNERtive prize they do that every year cause we have a gallery downstairs. And we have a lot of stuff around the room, like everyone’s work is displayed. Like last year, everyone’s final pieces will be up on the walls.

It’s one of the main things that attracted me to the school [the way it values art]. I used to go to [another school] and they’re into art as well but I thought that this was even more into art cause its what I want to go into so it felt like this was the right decision to come here.

When I asked how the school’s value of the arts made them feel they said:

It makes us want to do more big stuff and show it off, cause we know we can.

I feel less restricted cause you can make big stuff in this school.

One student explained about her experience in The alTURNERtive Prize:

So they choose a couple of people from Year 11, 12 and 13, art that they’ve done and they put it in the gallery and it’s like a show. Everyone comes in to watch it. And they choose an overall winner. […] It’s fun. It’s a good experience. You feel quite involved in everything and it feels a bit more real. And you feel like you get rewarded for the stuff you do, so it’s quite nice.

And what did everyone say when they came in and saw all the artwork?

It’s like not a community but like everyone’s joined together and everyone is like ‘oh, your work’s nice’, ‘and your work’s nice’ and you all give each other ideas. It’s a nice thing to do. It’s a good idea. It works.

Sharing art work at Welling was not only confined to formal gallery spaces or competitions. The teacher’s classrooms displayed student work, and the corridors of the art block were full of posters, art, photographs and notice boards showcasing recent plays or information on exhibitions students could visit.


At Welling I began to think about the role the school and teachers can play in creating spaces where students can share work in a gradual fashion – anonymously in the glass cube, with friends, family and other artists in the school gallery space, and eventually, on social media and in other public spaces. And through doing so, empower students to share their work with the world.

empathising and understanding the character

This post is written by Lexi Earl on her experiences at Minsthorpe Community College.

On my visit to Minsthorpe Community College in west Yorkshire, I was able to observe a Year Seven English lesson on Much Ado about Nothing. The lesson made use of the rehearsal room approaches encouraged by the RSC. The lesson took place in the centre of the class, with students moving around, forming and reforming groups, and sitting on the floor.

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Sal Thompson, the teacher, began the lesson by drawing the students’ attention to the board. This had the phrase ‘dramatic irony’ displayed on it. She asked the class if they knew the phrase. Sal explained that dramatic irony occurs when the audience knows something that the actors on stage do not, and this can lead to conflict or to humour. It is done deliberately by the playwright to achieve a particular effect.

The students then began a warm-up activity called ‘Zip, Zap, Boing!’ They had to pass an invisible ball of energy around a circle, calling either zip, zap or boing depending on where they were sending it. (Zip sends it right or left, zap is across the circle, and boing is a header or tummy throw). The students were soon laughing, looks of panic crossing their faces when they unexpectedly received the energy ball before they had decided what to do with it, and making eye contact with the receiver. They performed the activity in two separate groups. When they were all done, Sal brought them back together and asked them to reflect on the point of the exercise. They realized that by performing the activity in two separate groups, they had to concentrate harder and focus their attention on the game, because they were more likely to receive the ball.

They then participated in an activity called ‘Bomb and Shield’. The students walked around the room and had to find an ally by giving them a wink or a clear stare. They were not allowed to talk or touch each other, simply walk at a normal pace but had to make eye contact with their ally. Then, they had to decide on an enemy but not reveal whom they had chosen. Finally, the students had to continue walking but move so that their ally was between themselves and their enemy. They did this enthusiastically with much jollying and an increased pace in their walking. Soon laughter was breaking out. Sal then asked them to freeze, and resume a neutral position. She asked them to reflect on their activity.

“The end bit was hard trying to keep the enemy and ally cause the enemy didn’t know”, one said. “Is that dramatic irony Miss? Cause they didn’t know”, another asked. “Fantasic X-, that’s a slip for you because you’ve used what you’ve done and applied it to the vocab. Now, how can we apply this to how Beatrice is feeling?”

The class then focused on two extracts from the play. The first was from Act 3, Scene 1, where Beatrice overhears her friends talking about her, and the second from Act 2, Scene 3 where Benedick overhears his friends talking about him. The students were divided into groups. One student had to be Beatrice and stay silent whilst the rest preformed the lines. The students who were Beatrice were asked how they felt about the experience.

“It’s quite hurtful because you thought they were your friends”.

“You really want to speak out for yourself but can’t”.

“It got on my nerves cause if it were me I’d want to shout.”

They performed the reading again but this time Beatrice could respond to the audience. Once they’d all had time to say the lines, the group reformed to talk about the scene.

They then focused on the scene with Benedick and his friends. Once again, one of the students played Benedick and the rest were his friends, with their backs turned towards him. Benedick was allowed to respond whenever he would like and they read the scene through.

They discussed the scene. Sal asked what they thought Benedick thought of his friends. She tells them to think of what is being said – Benedick’s friends are not criticizing him the way Beatrice’s do. Rather, they highlight how Beatrice is secretly in love with Benedick. They make Beatrice sound lovely but also desperate.

“Why does Benedick speak but not Beatrice?” Sal asked the students. “Men are more confident and like the leaders”, a student answers. They go on to talk about the patriarchal nature of the Elizabethan era, how women had to respect men and couldn’t use their voices in the same way.

Molly Morgan, an NQT at the school, also used this approach to teach these scenes. When I spoke to Molly the following day she explained why such an approach is useful when dealing with complex texts.

If we’re doing any reading, I usually do it actively. I just find they engage better with it. Only one pupil can read at a time. So if only one pupil’s reading, everybody else is not listening usually. And in a lower set, most of the time if they can’t blatantly understand the language, if it’s not obvious what somebody is saying then they’re just not going to try and focus on it. Which is understandable. If somebody were reading Shakespeare to me, out loud with no tone or expression it’d be hard to understand, definitely. You need that expression and I think that’s something that the Year Seven’s are getting better at.

She went on to explain: If we were reading that as a whole class, they would probably be saying ‘what does this mean?’ ‘what does this mean?’ ‘what does that word mean?’ continuously throughout the reading. Whereas if you say, because they can’t all shout at you at once, cause you’re not even present within the room as far as they’re concerned, they’re in their own little bubble. So any vocabulary they don’t 100% understand, they just put into context and work out.

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In both classes the students seemed to have grasped the idea of dramatic irony, and the ways in which Beatrice and Benedick were being tricked by their friends. What is more, the students clearly enjoyed being able to perform the lines and participate in the class, making the whole process of learning fun and accessible.

close encounters

Earlier in the year I was in Halewood School, visiting Art, Photography and Graphics staff and students. I was lucky enough to visit on a day when some of the students had returned from a trip to Barcelona. It was clear that the art, the galleries, the architecture and the food had all made an impact on the students:

I just liked walking around and seeing how other people interact.

It was a completely different culture.

I tried to look under the surface of their enthusiastic responses to understand the way that these young people engaged with challenging contemporary work for the first time.

The students reflected on the way they had been prepared for the visit by staff from school and in the galleries:

There were paintings I didn’t understand. But there were art students who explained, so it broadened my thoughts

The preparation was clearly key to the visit and it was refreshing to see the students being given space to honestly discuss their responses. They were encouraged to say what they thought.  Some of the year ten students expressed some uncertainty about some the work they’d encountered:

It [the art] didn’t really have any relevance.

We all had our preferences – some we found a bit strange.

But 6th form students articulated their responses in more depth and made strong arguments for the need to engage with art face to face.

It’s one thing seeing a piece on a computer screen but seeing it in person you see more.

Seeing it online the pieces can be diminished. You don’t appreciate the size.

 The students also made it very clear that, for them, seeing art isn’t all about admiration and appreciation:

 We went to see Banksy’s work and I’d seen all the pictures but when I saw the actual work it was different. It shocks you.

Having many and varied opportunities to access art through school and in their own city clearly has value, enabling students to explore their own responses and draw inspiration for their own self-expression. I’m not sure they would be able to do this in the same way if the premise for every visit was to invite them to simply admire and appreciate the exhibitions. Indeed as Head of Art Liz Shelbourne describes, the school invites the students to question and challenge what art is, making links to the Turner Prize in doing so.

At the schools’ preview of the Tate Modern’s new building and collections I caught up with the Halewood students again, as they encountered the new spaces. In observing their responses I saw everything from curiosity, surprise, boredom and enjoyment expressed as they encountered new work and new ideas. Trying to get a sense of the whole experience from the point of view of the students reminded me of their descriptions of the reasons they loved their visual arts lessons – it was the freedom of expression of ideas and the independent thinking that was expected of them.

Both at school and in gallery spaces the students’ own ideas about what they were experiencing were respected and listened to, and as a result they expressed genuinely diverse opinions,. They also demonstrated their understanding of subjectivity:

Two different people could be looking at the same painting and one could say ‘oh I get this from that’ and the other might not even know what it is.

The students described their own creative processes in art at school as being where they can try and make anything they want to, as long as they can justify or explain their decisions and ideas. When I asked them what they learnt from doing art, one of the students suggested:

It helped me in other lessons especially in GCSE. In art you have to link it back [to an idea] and in English you always have to link things back to the question – to show meaning and interpretation.

Liz Shelbourne and her team at Halewood, clearly also have high expectations of their students, ensuring they critically examine their own responses and develop these ideas in their own work.

My encounters with Halewood students having their own encounters with art, creativity and culture has lead me to reflect on the importance of having opportunities to see the art and culture of European cities at close quarters, to access contemporary art in prestigious cultural spaces and to be given the space to respond freely.

 

cashing in the learning

My research visit to St Albans school in Highgate, Birmingham concluded with an observation of a poetry lesson.  A year nine class were undertaking a scaffolded approach to writing their critical responses to Shelley’s poem ‘Ozymandias’. The aim of the lesson was to enable the students to transform their verbal responses to the poem into written sentences and then paragraphs working towards a full essay. Each element of the essay was carefully structured by Headteacher, Mark Gregory, to ensure the students were using appropriate language and specific vocabulary to articulate ideas clearly.

In order to enable the students to verbalise their responses, images of the students were projected which recalled to mind a lesson where they had created tableaux of key fragments of the poem. These images really helped the students embody the character of the ‘King of kings’ and therefore understand the themes of the poem. Indeed they seemed most engaged when trying to find ways to express the folly of vanity as depicted in one image of Ozymandias’ ‘sneer of cold command,’ represented by one of their peers. This technique of working in an ensemble format is one of the key approaches of the RSC. To collaborate with peers to embody a line of poetry or prose clearly creates a safe space for the discussion of meaning and animates the written word. The photos act as a reminder of this process and help the students sustain their engagement with the poem once they have moved on to written responses.

During the discussion of the movement of time as a theme and in the rhythm of the poem one student noticed with some excitement,

‘The last line is the slowest.’

 Mark Gregory built on this observation:

‘It’s beautiful what you said and that you noticed.’

They entered a dialogue about which word would be the best to express the idea and agree on ‘pace’. Mark added:

 ‘If you can close that out, that’s on the money. That will be amazing.’

Importantly then, the lesson draws on the RSC active approaches to challenging texts, but also makes careful links to the demands of GCSE English Literature, a course the students have commenced early, to ensure that the ideas they have developed become more concrete and controlled. It strikes me that there is a balance to be struck between guiding students to ‘cash in’ their learning, with enabling them to transfer their learning, independently, into achievement in their coursework and examinations. The use of photographs of the dramatic process and a rich dialogue with a teacher who challenges thinking throughout seem key to this process.

an emphasis on performance

Chris Hall reports on her visit to Launceston College in Cornwall.

Bryan Maywood, the head at Launceston College, keeps his old year 10 English folder in his desk drawer. The folder reminds him about his own learning in English, a subject he’s passionately interested in now. He remembers the support and advice he got from a slightly older friend. He remembers a teacher who accurately identified precisely what he needed to know to do well in his literature exam, and then made sure he learned it. He is amused now by the examples in his folder of rather less detailed and constructive feedback from other teachers.

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The themes of this first-thing-on-a-Monday morning conversation with the head – the value of peer support, how you learn to perform well, the importance of attention to detail – cropped up throughout my visit. For example, Kate Prouse, second in the English department, told me how when she’d first started work at Launceston, she’d been immediately struck by the cohesiveness of the college community and how the students genuinely support and are interested in one another. Kate put this down in part to the emphasis in the college on performance.   She explained how performance is factored in to the annual cycle of the school year: through house and whole school assemblies, an ambitious school production, exhibitions, competitions, a summer term activities week, lively art, drama and music programmes…

Jack Jackson, the college’s executive head, told me about the current adventure learning programme and plans for a new award system that recognises achievement and supports progress across five areas (adventure, performance, curriculum learning, understanding others, skills). Dan Wendon, assistant principal with responsibility for teaching and learning, explained the college’s staff development programme, which challenges teachers to devise and conduct action research projects that they judge will have a positive impact on their own professional learning.

All of the Launceston students I met were hugely appreciative of this focus on performance. They really valued the encouragement their teachers gave them to share their work with their peers, whether this was in assemblies, in lessons or in wider public events. They said they trusted one another. They learned to be more confident, to speak up, to express themselves. They made new friends through working together to get the performance right and many of them said they learned more about themselves. They loved the applause they got at the end because they knew they had earned it. They said they learned a lot from seeing other students perform.

And then there were The Fairies – students from years 7 and 8 who, just before my visit, had performed in the RSC’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Hall for Cornwall in Truro.

images-1.jpegBursting with pride and plans for a career on the stage, the fairies had a torrent of stories about what they’d learnt from being in the RSC cast and working alongside professionals. But they had even more to say about the impact of the show on their families. They loved the fact that many of their relatives had been so engaged with the details of rehearsals and the planning that led up to the final performances. They said their families were still talking and texting about what they’d been doing. And now they’d heard that some of the fairies were to be invited to an official reception at 10 Downing Street, and timages.jpeghey had a lot to say about why they thought this had happened and how they thought students should be selected to attend.

I’d already heard about the fairies – from Dan, of course, who fixed up the meetings for me, but also from the older students I’d been interviewing, some of whom had helped out with mentoring and organising. The performances had created ripples in and out of the school.

I could see what Kate meant about the way the emphasis on performance helped build community cohesion.

 

 

 

where’s that going to get you?

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unspecifiedF62B22SWIn many of the schools we have visited, students complain about the ‘where’s that going to get you?’ question. This question refers to their choice of art, drama, music, dance or photography as a GCSE subject. If we follow the question’s rather literal logic we might expect all students who have taken History to become Historians. Putting our collective understanding of the global employment context (or lack of it) aside for the time being, the ‘where’s that going to get you?’ question seems to have had an unexpected impact on young people. The 24 young people we meet in each of the thirty schools we are visiting, seem pretty clear about the value of the arts to their lives and refer to their own developing self expression, independent working, ability to take risks, collaborate and time manage. They also talk about personal growth and learning to empathise with the views of others in order to see the world from different perspectives. Whilst there is clarity and consensus about the value of art education, the students’ do not always have a similar breadth of knowledge and experience of the types of careers available to them as a result.

At Childwall School the range of partnerships with artists, creative and cultural institutions, such as the Tate, and universities directly addresses this issue. Students show an awareness of a wide range of future career possibilities and an awareness of the need to participate in creative communities in order to make important connections with art and artists in their city.

This ethos seems to emerge from the school, whose large scale public art and extensive murals create a sense of belonging as well access to art in the school itself. As Head of Art Chris Tyrer states:

We’re trying to get our pupils to buy into the idea of creating something and yet, if we are just telling them how to do it it’s completely different to them seeing something that is going to inspire them. For me if they are not inspired and they don’t see things in a real space then we are doing our pupils a disservice.

An appreciation of the wider ‘scene’ of arts practitioners in Liverpool has clearly made an impression on one student Alex Owens who describes himself as a Designer Maker and is a current student of Design at Liverpool Hope University. Alex works as an art technician at Childwall on a voluntary basis – he loves the place and is totally committed to it. I asked him why:

We once came up with the idea that it is a sense of belonging. That we should be here.

Alex also has a shared space at Bridewell studios which he says is great for students because it is so cheap. He describes how his teachers encouraged him to seek out interesting places to develop his ideas, as well as allowing him to retake exams and supporting him with university applications. Although he isn’t from an arty family he was often in a welder’s workshop with his Dad and is now already establishing himself as an artist. Alex finds Childwall an inspiring place to work and is unafraid of trying new approaches and materials:

I see new ways of making something every day. For example, digitally making via 3D rendering software and printing some ink via computer on to a T-shirt or piece of material.

To find out more about Alex’s work contact him on: alexowens13@icloud.com

The assumption in the question ‘where’s that going to get you?’ is that young people who do arts have little chance of ‘becoming an artist.’The impact of creating school spaces where young people work as artists and alongside artists therefore reflects and refracts this question in some thought-provoking ways.

redeeming Shylock

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During my visit to King Ethelbert School in Kent The headteacher, Kate Greig, attended the annual Dimbleby Lecture, this year presented by Gregory Doran, Artistic Director at the RSC. I felt at first hand Kate’s delight at the school being mentioned during this speech because of their commitment to teaching Shakespeare actively. Kate believes the students should recognise that the work belongs to them. Away from the glamour of speeches at The Shard, I was therefore extremely interested to understand how this belief becomes a tangible programme of work in the school.

Led by a team of teachers including Stacy Golding, Carol O’Shea and Amy Humphrys the school’s involvement in the LPN for two years and prioritises training new staff, using the RSC ensemble, active learning approach to teaching Shakespeare. I was delighted to be able to observe a year 8 English class was studying ‘The Merchant of Venice’ with newly qualified English teacher, Liz Channing.

The class began with a starter activity, inviting the students to reflect on their past learning about the characters in the play and their emotions. The activity also encouraged students to think of a wide range of vocabulary to describe those emotions. In the feedback session for this activity it was interesting to see the way the teacher helped the students make connections between the characters and their own experiences. The students drew on their previous learning in this section too, demonstrating rich understanding of the key themes of the play. It was particularly exciting to observe the way Liz prioritised the students’ developing understanding of the relationships in the play and had clearly built a safe space for learning in which students could express ideas even if they could not recall the character’s name or pronounce it with confidence.

The game which was used for warm up, ‘Bang,’ enabled the students to begin to physically react to their peers and also connected nicely with the conflicts being explored in the subsequent activity. Links were again made to the children’s own experiences and to the play in ways that successfully built the students’ anticipation of the next task.

The students were then asked to work in small groups on a short extract of text from the play, reading some sections and representing meaning in physical freeze frames. The groups discussed, planned and rehearsed their sequence and were later joined with another group who had been working on a linked scene so that there were two larger groups who took it in turns to perform a longer scene. In setting up the task Liz emphasised her high expectations of the performance and linked the room layout to an imaginary ‘in the round’ performance space.

The students engaged in lengthy and high stakes discussion with regard to their roles and responsibility. Some groups moved quickly to active rehearsal of movement, others spent longer planning. Some students, having been allocated a fairly small role took to practising this over again and, given that the role involved drunken arguments, they became highly immersed in their roles! This led to frustration from their peers. I was fascinated by this because it is so critical to the process of devising, for the students to have the chance to try out different approaches to group creative and collaboration and to learn from their own mistakes.

At times, this led some students to disagree and feel frustrated whilst a small number of others sat back and let peers take the lead. However, if students are micro-managed to ‘behave well’ in this context, and never experience the challenge of this sort of learning environment, they may not be able to fully engage with the play, the pedagogical approach and conflicting ideas. It was therefore compelling to see this work in a year 8 class with an NQT who had clearly been encouraged by the senior leadership team to use the active approaches to teaching Shakespeare without fearing that the buzz of activity in the room would leave her open to criticism. Indeed the role of the teacher here was to mediate in the groups and redirect their attention onto the important themes they were exploring, allowing them space and time to attempt to work together and begin to learn for themselves the skills involved in resolving differences and working to a deadline.

In one discussion  the students suggested that what they had been asked to do was ‘not easy’ and Liz agreed that it was ‘hard’ but suggested that they ‘think about how they individually could make their contribution more effectively,’ supporting them in taking personal responsibility.

The performances were executed with varying levels of success and engagement, and a useful plenary followed where the students were asked to think like film critics about what could have been better, which led to some productive comments and a clear recognition by some students of the performances which had been particularly effective.

Importantly, they were asked if the activity had made them feel any differently about Shylock. Here the discussion became very animated, despite a weather change (to thunder and lightning) and the imminence of the bell. One student found the words he was looking for to help him explain his ideas about Shylock. He had played the famous character and felt he was ‘kind of redeemed.’ There was disagreement which was a highly stimulating end to a rich lesson which demonstrated the way the school draws on the RSC approaches to enable their students to claim Shakespeare’s characters as their own.