Art teacher Elin Mbeyela considers the power of abstract
art, and discusses how debate and inquiry are central to the Art curriculum at
WHS, allowing students to develop an open-minded and experimental approach in
their own work
I remember how I felt, as I stood in front of Ai Weiwei’s
piece at his unforgettable and ground-breaking exhibition at the Royal Academy
in 2015. His
commemorative installation piece, titled ‘Straight’, consisted of 90 tonnes
of steel-reinforced rods straightened by hand after being mangled in the
Sichuan earthquake. The rods were laid out meticulously and created a dense
carpet that overwhelmed the space, and on the wall overlooking the rods were
the names of over 5,000 children killed due to the poorly constructed
buildings.
Adrian Locke, co-curator at the RA commented, “it is a very
sombre and sobering work when you see it, it has this kind of power and silence
about it…it bears a real sense of loss of life”[1].
I was reduced to tears by this provocative yet poignant piece. I was also
reminded of how art can be used as an expression of our thoughts, emotions and
intuitions, and that it is even more personal than that: it’s about sharing the
way we experience the world. This means it provides a platform for much
discussion and debate.
How do we encourage this discussion and debate?
We embed discussion and debate in our curriculum at WHS,
right from Year 7. During the students’ first autumn term in Senior School, we
explore colour theory and abstract art. We look at a range of artists such as
Frank Bowling, Jade Fadojutimi and Gillian Ayres, encouraging students to see
with their mind what they don’t see physically – in essence, prompting them to
explore how abstract art enables the artist and the viewer to perceive beyond
the tangible. Fadojutimi’s large scale
gestural paintings explore identity and emotion; she uses colour
flamboyantly and applies the oil paint in thin layers, creating depth with
expressive mark-making.
WHS Art department
Through group discussions we ask students the following –
How do you feel when you look at this piece?
How is the work abstract?
Does the artist explore any particular subjects
/ themes / moods / issues / messages?
Comment on the visual elements in the piece –
line, shape, tone, texture and space. How do they help communicate ideas and
reinforce a message?
How could this artist inspire your own work?
What media, techniques, styles and processes
have been used? How do
they affect the mood of the artwork and the communication of ideas?
Jennifer Higgie,
writer and critic, comments on Fadojumiti’s paintings, “Art is not an explanation: it’s a shot of energy, a
flash of colour; a shimmer, a reaction, a line thrown out to see who might pick
it up… Jadé tells me that her aim is for “deep emotion, not deep
description”.”[2]
To many,
the intangible nature of abstract art is uncomfortable, and they desperately
want to seek some understanding and meaning in what they see. This can lead
some to mock such art, and to think it is not worth their attention. In
essence, they want to be able to decipher and understand it.
Meanwhile, our students engage in thoughtful, creative
discussions about Fadojutimi’s work. They are curious and fascinated by the
possible hidden meanings and messages in her paintings. But ultimately what
they are struck by is that there is no universally accepted theme or subject,
and that the work allows them to make individual visual connections, thoughts
and interpretations.
Following our discussion, students enjoy experimenting with
paint techniques such as impasto and sgraffito and explore mixing their own
colours by applying their colour theory knowledge. This marks the initial stage
of planning for their own abstract painting.
Students’ work WHS Art department
To conclude
We value highly students’ ability to be curious; through
encouraging debate and discussion in the classroom, we instil in our learners
that engaging with art contributes to the refinement of emotional meaning and
improves communication and interaction with others. It allows them to think
creatively and expressively, without limits or boundaries. These skills are not
just fundamental to studying Art but, with the school’s innovative approach to
STEAM, they are crucial to our interdisciplinary curriculum.
Dr. Stephanie Harel, Acting Head of Geography, explores the positive geographies of our current global pandemic, including a stronger local sense of place and a greater environmental consciousness.
As an educator, I concern myself every day with demonstrating how and why “Geography matters”. Central to our discipline, and indeed my own academic interests, is the often-contested concept of ‘place’. At its heart, lies the notion of a meaningful segment of geographical space, although what is also important to understand, is that places are dynamic and multifaceted[1]. Recently, I introduced our Year 12 students to these ideas, as part of the Changing Spaces, Making Places unit in our OCR specification. Over the past three weeks, we have explored the difference between ‘place’ and ‘space’, the characteristics that constitute a place profile and how perception of place can vary depending on factors such as age, gender and personal experience. Lively class debates have discussed how people can see, experience and understand place in different ways and, perhaps most importantly, how our relationships with places can change over time.
I love teaching this unit, because it aligns with my own research interests and allows me to delve into what was the focus of my doctoral thesis. My PhD explored the complexities of people’s emotional response to disasters. Acknowledging that people negotiate their emotions in different ways, my thesis demonstrated the complex ways that emotions influence how the disaster displaced relate to ‘home’ in the aftermath of disaster. As a practitioner, I see much value in using this research to develop students’ understanding of how the concept of place works in practice. During Guided Home Learning, for example, I relished the opportunity to teach a two-week segment as part of the Geography elective for Years 11-13, which explored the ‘Emotional Geographies of Home’. In our sessions, I shared stories from real people who had lost their homes as a result of the 2011 flood event in Brisbane, Australia, and 2011 earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand. As I explained to my students, the aim of my PhD research was to extend geographic knowledge on the emotional dynamics of natural disasters. However, I also aimed to contribute to debates within our discipline about how places can be disrupted and altered in a myriad of ways and as a consequence of both physical and human processes. Again, these sessions promoted incredibly rich discussions. The level of independent thought and active enquiry shown in students’ post-course reflections showed deep engagement with course content, on both an academic and a personal level; as a teacher, it was richly rewarding to read these reflections.
While my doctoral research was carried out within the context of natural disasters, I believe there is huge potential to explore these ideas further, within our current global climate. Media outlets across the country are presenting the endless disruption caused to places as a result of the COVID-19 global pandemic. This is important, of course; the economic and social consequences of COVID-19 will undoubtedly be severe and long lasting. Still, I would like to intervene amidst what sometimes feels like a barrage of negativity. I want to suggest that there are many positive ways in which the pandemic has altered places around the world, at a variety of different scales. The following, therefore, is what I deem to be ‘The positive geographies of COVID-19’:
A stronger ‘sense of place’
When I was researching in Brisbane and Christchurch, and indeed for my Masters research in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina[2], one of the positive outcomes of the experience of a natural disaster was the way in which communities came together in the face of crisis. My research exemplified how emotions play a key role in the construction of place and many of my interview narratives demonstrated the value of social capital in the aftermath of catastrophe. Narratives of those who were displaced and subsequently returned to post-earthquake Christchurch, for example, discussed the importance of community support networks and the strengthening of their local neighbourhoods in the aftermath of the earthquake. From what I’ve seen in 2020, the same concepts ring true during a global pandemic.
Above: Hurricane Katrina Flooding, Pixabay
In Geography, a ‘sense of place’ refers to a feeling of belonging; a strong identity that is deeply felt by inhabitants and visitors. It is often a term used by humanistic geographers to describe our attachment to specific locations[3]. I would argue that with communities coming together to clap for NHS carers and networks of volunteers supporting vulnerable members of their communities, lockdown deeply enhanced our local sense of place. It also, I believe, caused us all to redefine our relationship with ‘home’, purely because we spent such an unusually large amount of time there. Socially distanced neighbourhood street parties and road WhatsApp groups where neighbours could check in on each other became the new norm. The 75th anniversary of VE day saw us all aptly enjoying the sound of ‘We will meet again’, celebrating with our local communities, from the comfort of our own driveways. In a personal capacity, lockdown resulted in a significant increase in the amount of time I was able to spend with my husband and young daughter; time I will cherish. I was able to witness my daughter’s first wobbly steps, knowing this was only possible because I was working from home. I then watched her grow confidence as she navigated the potholes along our road, cheered on (from a distance) by our kind neighbours.
Although I have long explored the concept of ‘place’ and acknowledged the way in which places are constructed by humans and human interactions, COVID-19 illuminated this reality in a way I never expected. Places truly are defined by the people within them; it is the experiences we have, and the relationships and memories we create that make geographical locations meaningful. The stronger sense of local place I feel towards my local community is evidence of this, but I am also struck by heightened sense of place created here at school as a result of the pandemic. Despite lockdown, our community remained united – Together Apart – and I think this unwavering sense of place experienced at Wimbledon High School during a time of national crisis is worthy of celebration.
Environmental consciousness
As well as teaching the core Human Geography Unit in Year 12, I also teach our Year 13 Geographers the core Physical systems unit, ‘Earth’s Life Support Systems’. Content within ELSS incorporates an understanding of our global water and carbon cycles, the consequences of human activity on these natural systems and the importance of management strategies which protect our vulnerable planet. Carbon emissions remain one of the world’s most significant environmental concerns. Emerging and developing countries, such as China and India have long been at the top of the contributor list for global greenhouse gas emissions. Interestingly, however, the pandemic has shut down industrial activity and temporarily slashed air pollution levels all around the world.
Above: Pollution levels in China in 2019, left, and 2020. Photograph: Guardian Visuals / ESA satellite data
I find myself wondering: Inadvertently, is this the largest scale pollution experiment the world has ever seen? Could this be the outcome of moving towards a low-carbon, green, economy in the future? And it is not just our dominant developing countries that have seen the positive effects of lower carbon emissions as a result of COVID-induced lockdowns. Italy’s usually heavily congested roads substantially reduced levels of traffic, resulting in drastically lower nitrogen oxide levels in the country[4]. The positive environmental consequences of this are unprecedented and offer an opportunity to think more critically about the implications of our everyday practices.
In addition to the global decline in factory pollution, it is also worthy to acknowledge the positive implications associated with a reduction in air travel as a result of national lockdowns around world. Today’s society is a society (normally) on the move. With the development of mass automobility and aeromobility, the scale of our travel has grown immense, and social life and social organisation are increasingly dependent on mobility[5]. COVID-19, however, has restricted our international mobility in a way that feels almost unnaturally authoritarian. While of course I acknowledge the challenges associated with being bound within our national territories, I’d also like to highlight the positives. The outcome of an inability to travel abroad is an increase in local and national ‘staycations’. I admit that I am someone who has lived in Australia and the USA, but never been to the Peak District. I’ve travelled to Singapore but haven’t explored many of the islands from my Scottish homeland. What COVID-19 has allowed for is an appreciation of the natural beauty that surrounds us not only in locally in London and the South-East, but all over the British Isles. As a nation, our inability to holiday overseas has increased an awareness of our local geographies, prompting an enjoyment of these local landscapes and the wonders that surround us, and sparking a renewed environmental awareness that aims to preserve them.
So then, it is pertinent to remember that 2020 is not a year to write off; perhaps it is, instead, a year full of opportunities. A time to connect and reconnect. A chance to acknowledge the beauty of our local surroundings and reconsider the impact our patterns of consumption so that we can rectify our environmental impact. As a geographer, I have long been fascinated by the relationship between people and places. I hope this post has demonstrated how geographers can offer some very useful ideas for making sense of our current situation; what has happened, what we might be feeling, and how we might go forward – stronger than before.
References:
[1] Cresswell, T. (2004) Place: A short introduction. Blackwell Publishing
[2] Morrice, S. (2012) Heartache and Hurricane Katrina: Recognising the influence of emotion in post-disaster return decisions. Area 45(1), 1-7.
[5] Gustafan, P. (2014) Place attachment in an age of mobility. In Manzo and Devine-Wright Place (eds.) attachement: Advances in Theory, Methods and Application. Routledge, 2014.
Matilda, Year 13, investigates the links between romance languages and music to discover whether the learning of one can help in the understanding of the other.
It is often said that music is the ‘universal language of mankind’, due to its great expressive powers which have the ability to convey sentiments and emotions.
But what are the connections between music and languages?
A romance language is a language derived from Latin and this group of languages has many similarities in both grammar and vocabulary. The 5 most widely spoken romance languages are Spanish (with 470 million speakers), Portuguese, French, Italian and Romanian.
There are 3 main connections between languages and music:
The first of these is the role of melody in recall:
There is a link between languages and music in remembering words. This is shown in a study where words were better recalled when learned as a song rather than a speech. This is because melody and rhythm give the memory cues to help recall information.[1]
Language, music, and emotion:
The British anthropologist and evolutionary psychologist who specialises in primate behaviour, Robin Dunbar, says that music and language help to knit people together in social groups. This is because musicians process music as a language in their heads. Studies have shown the planum temporal in the brain is active in all people whilst listening to music.
However, in non-musicians, the right-hand side was the most active, meanwhile, in musicians, the left side dominated, this is the side believed to control language processing. This shows that musicians understand music as a language in their brain.
In another study, scientists analysed the Broca’s area, which is crucial in language and music comprehension. It is also responsible for our ability to use syntax. Research has shown the in the Broca’s area of the brain, musicians have a greater volume of grey matter, suggesting that it is responsible for both speech and music comprehension.
The relationship between music and languages:
Both music and languages share the same building blocks as they are compositional. By this, I mean that they are both made of small parts that are meaningless alone but when combined can create something larger and meaningful.
For example, the words ‘I’, ‘love’ and ‘you,’ do not mean much individually, however, when they are constructed in a sentence, carry a deep sentimental value. This goes the same for music notes, which when combined can create a beautiful, purposeful meaning.
Musical training has been shown to improve language skills.[2] In a study carried out in 2011, developmental psychologists in Germany conducted a study to examine the relationship between development of music and language skills. In the experiment, they separated children aged 4 into 2 groups, 1 of these groups receiving musical training, and one did not.
Later on, they measured their phonological ability (the ability to use and manipulate language) and they discovered the children who had received music lessons were better at this. Therefore, this shows that learning and understanding language can go hand in hand with musical learning and ability.
Both music and languages share the same building blocks as they are compositional. By this, I mean that they are both made of small parts that are meaningless alone but when combined can create something larger and meaningful.