Teach. Learn. Make.
More thought on the Master and Apprentice.
Can we truly and equitably teach while we are pursuing our own art making? When I ask this, to be more specific, I mean when the student is actively a part of serving our (the teacher’s) creative goals?
I had some interesting feedback to the last blog entry looking at the teacher apprentice model. It was great to learn that this topic resonates with people in different parts of the world. I have recently had the opportunity to contemplate this topic further. Part of my time here in Phnom Penh, a substantial part of it, is devoted to research and creation of my own work. This has taken the form of photography, drawing, research around elements from certain meditations, and a return to the studio to work with some local dancers and performers. I had taken a 5 year break from working with performers so being in a studio again, with people unfamiliar with me and my work, was an exhilarating experience. This was of course in many ways a return home. What was very different was that after working with a fairly consistent group of performers for the bulk of my career, working with new and unfamiliar performers requires teaching, as well as community and vocabulary building. These are things that have become part of my DNA, a natural part of working with others, but this situation brings with it new considerations. My intention was to engage dancers in a workshop setting to determine who I would eventually move forward with, and in turn identify who would be interested in working with me. This seemed a natural first step prior to hiring performers. What this also did, by default, was to position me in a grey area between teacher and art-maker. It is this moment that I found myself in the very situation hypothesized in my last blog entry. I was replicating the master apprentice model, at the same time wanting to stay true to the style of teaching- not master apprentice as far as I understood - that I believe in and espouse. So back to this question. Can we truly teach while making our own art? What is it that we need to keep in mind when we enter into this dynamic? I think the process I went through, before I had even consciously realized what was happening, is of interest and I would like to share it, and some conclusions, here.
The workshop plan was comprised of a series of activities designed for participants to gain a familiarity with key concepts within my own process of moving bodies. I am naturally resistant to the idea of “learn as I do,” so the lens through which this was presented was one of “Let me teach these aspects and key ideas that are present in my work, so that they can become tools for your own art making, and/or perception.” Because of this bias I was working hard to keep the focus off of myself, despite the fact that the whole workshop was set up for people to understand how I work. We progressed through the workshop in this manner until we reached the point where the participants would work on incorporating these key ideas into their own creative endeavor. The thing is, I have spent a long time relying on my ability to read a room, to listen, and to respond in the moment. In this moment of the workshop it just did not feel like this is where the workshop wanted to go. So I paused and I posed a question to the room. Would you rather do this workshop as originally planned, taking what we have explored and applying it creatively in your work, OR would you like to work on what I plan to make, and learn through participating. They all chose the latter. At that point I found myself stepping into this master apprentice model of teaching. Right? Stepping in deep. But it felt correct, and the students chose this over the other option. So I found myself faced with the exact questions posed in the last blog, setting out to teach them as they became a part of creating and fulfilling my own creative impulse. And so, with this, must the power dynamic change? It seems to me unavoidable. So in this situation what do we do?
The time spent working on my work, according to the students during reflection, was the most valuable. Particularly the last activity that involved working with water, glass, balance, spitting and drinking - not usual practices for them. It seems we had all felt a synergy, had fun, and been fulfilled on some level. So I want to look at what happened. How, and what, progressive and non-traditional practices were introduced into the master apprentice dynamic?
Teach. Learn. Make.
I would like to start by talking about fulfillment. My personal experience of this workshop in the end was joyous and rewarding. I felt fulfilled both as an art maker and as a teacher. I would hope that every teacher and teaching artist reading this will know what I refer to; that magic moment when you see what you were teaching transferring into the consciousness of the students, when it transforms into action and becomes applicable to life. And this moment parallels the moment in art making when we see our work transfer into consciousness, transfer into action (to be) and become applicable to life (available for perception, comprehension, and meaning making.) These things do not happen every time we step into a studio or classroom, but when it does, the shared feeling of satisfaction is palpable. I am focused right now on this notion of a double fulfillment in art making and educating. And equally important, What does a “double fulfillment” look like for the student?
Let me put forth this hypothesis, that this idea of “double fulfillment” in regards to the student would take the form of a genuine satisfaction achieved through both learning and making. This may sound like a lot to ask for, but I do believe there is an identifiable moment when a student of any age feels the intoxication of acquiring and assimilating knowledge and / or generating idea. Will the student always know this in the moment and express it explicitly? (Maybe you can imagine the face I am making right now.) We know the answer is no - but there are other ways to assess this. This moment can be exhibited through a student's body language, facial expression, level of participation, and nature of input. As educators or teaching artists we should know, if we are paying attention, the moment a student “wakes up”, takes hold, and puts understanding and idea into action. In many cases the student knows too. Often, for the student, the first step is simply true engagement and input - the absence of boredom - that leads to first feeling the generating of new thoughts. This moment of fulfillment that I am referring to is distinctly different from the feeling a student gets when they pass an exam, correctly recitate answers, or receive a good assessment of their work. This is a different satisfaction than what is gained from the rewards of mere successful compliance. While compliance may be the goal for some, with the idea of a double fulfillment for the student, I am proposing that the goal be the more internalized satisfaction of acquiring, assimilating and putting knowledge into action. And I propose that we go one step further, by adding the satisfaction of making and creating. I am referring to the same satisfaction the teaching artist receives from their own art-making, now extended to and experienced by the student. And it is my belief that this satisfaction through making can be experienced in cases when the student has no intention of, or proclivity toward, becoming an artist. In this case ( and this could be a whole separate essay) I expand the definition of art making to the conceiving and putting into action of an idea so that it takes some form in the world and can be perceived and or contemplated by others. So once we have as our goal this double fulfillment of the student combined with the double fulfillment described above of the teaching artist, we have a triangle comprised of Teaching, Learning, and Making. This goal may be lofty, but the energy being generated in the moment would produce exponential potential. Why would this not be all of our goal? And how could this not reinvigorate and help to democratize the master apprentice dynamic? Through this we see more equal fulfillment, moving in both directions, from teacher to student and from student to teacher. But this, of course, does not address all the issues of power embedded within the Master Apprentice dynamic.
Choice.
There was a moment in the workshop, described above, where I presented the students with a choice of how we would proceed, through application to their own work, or participation in my own. They chose, and in doing this, Student agency was established. There was an option, and the power to choose. This is introduction of student agency and choice is a very do-able and effective way to address different preferences and modes of learning, even within the master apprentice model.
If the class had split in their intentions, both choices could have been honored, one group working with me, and the other working on their own. We would them come together for feedback and reflection.
Reflection.
It is not that radical of an idea to introduce reflection into our teaching practice, but it is important to remember. Most of us at the very least leave time for verbal feedback and reflection at the end of an engagement or lesson. But how much self reflection do we do in our process? And beyond that, how much self-reflection does the teacher in a master apprentice model really do? The master apprentice model in and of itself does not seem to require any form of self-reflection on the part of the master teacher. But it is deep and ongoing self reflection and humility on the part of the master teacher that I believe to be uniquely important to the modernization of this model. How much change in dynamic would we witness through the simple first step of the teacher taking time to ask questions of themselves and reflect, “Did I make room for all opinions and discomforts, did I give choices, did I ever make people feel as if they must revere me, or were less than me?”
In the workshop I conducted, there was a space for student reflection, and an intention toward creating space for participants to share any discomfort, thoughts or questions with the process. I am not certain of the success of this in my instance. What I am learning from the teachers and artists I am working with here, is that in cultures like Cambodia’s where teacher reverence and respect is most often the norm, it can be quite a challenge to create a space where a student would feel comfortable speaking in this way toward a teacher. I understand and appreciate this difficulty, but it makes me believe even more in the importance of reflection and self reflection in this situation, and in the teacher’s responsibility to find ways to achieve this. In my ongoing work here we will certainly be working on developing different ways to address this. This teacher reverence embedded in the culture is intrinsically tied to this master apprentice model, and the introduction of open reflection by the student, and self-reflection by the teacher, could potentially go a long way in altering negative power dynamics within the system.
Destroy the Pedestal - humility
My process, and my work, makes sense to me, and to some other people as well, but I am entirely comfortable with others, including students, not understanding, or liking it it. I believe it is my responsibility to let the students know that this is alright and that “liking” or “revering” my work, or anyone’s work, is not a requirement. This practice can also play a role in making the master apprentice dynamic more equitable because this brings the “master” off of the pedestal.
It is my hope that anyone in the role of master would feel some level of confidence in their work and security in their reputation. If they consider themself within this “master” framework, and others do as well, they should not be threatened by the respectfully presented thoughts, inquiry or opinions of a student. Critical input should not be viewed as disrespectful unless it is shared in a disrespectful manner. ( meaning in a manner disrespectful to other humans equally, the same as if the interaction was with another student).
In my time teaching I never expected any student to take for granted that any famous master painter or writer or artist should be liked simply based on their fame. It was always ok with me for a student to think Shakespeare wrote terrible endings, or Chagall used weird colors. As long as a student can back up their thoughts or opinions, offer alternatives, express themself, share observations, become curious, I claim success. The contrary opinion, dislike, or “snark” of a student can be utilized as a powerful entryway into the true learning and student fulfillment I described earlier. In my experience, through the freedom to dislike often comes eventual appreciation and understanding. As a teaching artist I made sure that while a student’s dislike was acceptable, I did not stop engaging with them. I was excited by their dissent, and to hear what they would change if they could. I just don’t believe that there are things you must revere and love in order to be a person of culture or successful student. It drives me crazy when this is the implication. So why would I ever expect that from people in regard to my own work. Why should anyone? I think a really important next step in the master apprentice model is for the master (the teacher), to take themself off the pedestal, throw the pedestal away (destroy it, burn it, whatever), and present their own work for contemplation, not reverence.
Responsiveness
In conclusion, I propose that a heightened responsiveness to the student and the classroom community can alter power dynamic and further democratize the master apprentice relationship. It can be easy for a teacher to fall into believing only their own words are important, but it is never too late to learn from a student, or be surprised by them, or even have them take the class in an entirely new direction. Even as we lead them to the eventual destination, we cannot be afraid to follow. Listen. Be in the moment. Open your eyes. Pay attention.
