i-ndefinable

Through this post I'm trying to sure up some of the points from this weeks reading. Lather's call to undo and recompose our foundations of current undertsanding is one that I can identify with -although I'm sure I don't undo enough of what I think I know as often as I should. So, in searching for an object that objects to what is said about it my thoughts fell on my iphone. I began to think of how we contextualize this object, and what null elements we ignore when doing so. If I remove the object from the frame in which it exists, I can begin to see that its meaning is far more complex than the object that defines it.

Much the same as Wilkes' work offers parts of a whole to be examined the iphone could similarly be deconstructed to examine what the technology might mean beyond its intended function. Yes, its a phone, but its also a book, a calender, a map, a clock, a computer, a games machine and a music player. Its primary use may even vary between its owners, with one using it as a music player first and foremost, while another may triumph its social media capabilities. So, why do we still feel the need to call it a phone? Is this even an adequate name anymore, even if we acknowledge that it's smarter than those phones preceding it?

The idea gets stranger once you begin to consider the other members of the i-family. Each one is capable of very similar things, but we contextualize each one in a different way, own one for a specific purpose and choose to use it over the other. Yes, this is over-simplifying things a little, but the idea is still intriguing never the less. And this idea returns me to O'sullivan's idea that, after discussion and clarification of something -art or otherwise, there always remains an excess of potential left unexplored. In a world that seems content with its been there, done that, same-old, same-old mentality, what possibilities await those who allow themselves the opportunity to stop, turn away and continue?

The Customer is Always Right

In response to this weeks reading I can't help but be drawn towards Bishop's article 'The New Masters of Liberal Arts.'  I was struck especially with her discussion around the commercialization of education.  Coincidently, this issue has also been raised in some of my other classes, but was perfectly demonstrated by a 'representative' from ETS (Education Testing Service) this past Friday morning.

What was meant to be a brief talk about why the TOEIC test was a good way for employers to gauge language comprehension soon became a depressing sales pitch.  What was more depressing was that after bestowing the virtues of the tests validity the representative then proceeded to inform us that students should be advised to take the test whilst in Canada so that their score was better, because they forget most of their English once they return home.  When I suggested that this negates the original score's purpose or how a company can use the score when it fails to test speaking or writing levels I was promised an email that would answer my question before he cheerfully went on to point out that a dollar spend abroad was a dollar lost to the school.

ETS is also the same company responsible for a majority of high school tests around the world.  There money driven attitude towards education certainly accounts for Bishop's suggestion that students are perceived as customers.  Her idea that the ethos of education has changed from freedom, discovery and exploration to financial investment also produces a chill of acknowledgement.  It's no secret that the Arts receive small attention in British Columbia's curriculum.  After reading these articles I'm left to wonder if the potential of creative education was replaced by money would we still see such a disappointing trend?

And if you wondering, I never did get that email answer.

Seeing the Can in Can't

Amongst the many ideas present in this week’s readings I was especially drawn to many of the ideas present in Rogoff’s ‘turning’ paper in Curating and the Educational Turn.  One in particular resonated with me; the concept of can and can’t.  Rogoff’s idea that endless possibility is present in all of us is tempered by his belief that for every can there is attached to it a can’t.  He goes on to suggest that this inevitable fallibility should be seen, not as a failing, but as a different/other form of understanding; one that is not reductive, but productive.  Here Rogoff is presenting fallibility as a counterpoint to other ways of understanding that, collectively, form our way of being in the world.

This philosophy towards what knowledge is and isn’t important plays a huge role in the way curriculum is developed.  The term ‘teaching to the test’ is something often used to criticize the state of modern curricula, which is often focused on black and white Quantitative assessment of student’s knowledge. We are beginning to see a turn in modern education to the ideas expressed above, but issues surrounding assessment and measurement of student growth will surly surround any future development.  

I wonder if we will ever see the can’t as something other than failure?  Keeping to the theme of journeys I see can’t as another path, one that is often not given the credit it might deserve. After all, can the can’t be seen as just a different route to a similar understanding?

A Turn to Educational Tourism

After reading Dave Beech's chapter in Curating and the Educational Turn I was left questioning the idea of knowledge and interpretation in regards to Taylorism. Beech's comment that the artist can become 'a critical escort through history, politics and place' is at odds with the belief that art is infinitely interpretable, with no set definition.

Referring to the viewer as a 'tourist' is also troubling. A tourists could never hope to understand the landscape, culture or language of a place in the same way a native would; and if the artist/curator/teacher has become akin to a tour guide, how are they deciding on the route/emphasis of the tour.

From a personal perspective, this kind of 'art tourism' has been common in much of my teaching practice. I never questioned whether this was in anyway wrong, it was how I was expected to proceed in all of the schools I have taught in, but on reflection I am forced to question where my 'tours' took the students during classes? By planning a route, what areas did I miss? What encounters were missed from following a set path of learning?

The idea of the artist/curator/teacher as guide also raises questions about the currency of knowledge. Again, if the tourist is being led through the process of understanding then we are promoting the idea that there is a correct way to understand, therefore eliminating the scope for alternative interpretations. This gives power to the intellectual elite, and removes it from the general public, thus narrowing the range of interpretations and limiting the chance of a more spontaneous 'art encounter'.

Sat, Jan 14th

For EDCP 504A -Review of Research in Art and Education- we have been tasked with keeping a note book that details our progress through course. The journal will be a documentation of my thinking process and the evolution of my ideas, allowing me to better examine thoughts and ideas I collect through the course more clearly. So, how better to begin this process that by looking in detail at the very beginning. Nothing should go unnoticed, and on reflection, even the purchasing of this journal held information that may have gone unnoticed without a moment of reflection.

After half and hour of browsing the selection on offer at Staples -other stationary stores are available- I picked out a notebook that, to be honest, was a little pretentious. But I liked its foe leather and suggestion of academic worth. Next, I spent time looking for a pen that I thought would give my writing that certain jenesequa, finally settling on a calligraphy pen. Back at my desk I began to go over this process, which at first could have been seen as a throw-away action; simply myself going through the motions. However, I have come to believe that no action is made in isolation, and that even the most simple of activities holds valuable information for those willing to invest the time to investigate properly. For example, why did I choose the journal I did? As I began to ask this question to myself, I started to realise that I was, in fact, trying to compensate for something. The book had to look academic, important, authoritative. Why? Well, I think that, in some way, I was tyring to address the inadequacy of what I felt would eventually be written inside it. My fixation with the pen I would use was also trying to compensate. If the writing was pretty, then maybe they won't notice that my idea aren't very good.

Are my fears founded? Possibly not. I have a tendency to be overly self critical and my glass is typically half empty. But, if the process of simply buying the journal can lead to this kind of personal insight, then I'm certainly -and quite uncharacteristically- optimistic about my ongoing journey with this new companion.