April 2021
In 1815, a cataclysmic volcano erupted on the island of Sumbawa in Indonesia.
Researchers have found the disaster of Mount Tambora to be the cause of monumental weather conditions across the globe. The weather shift is speculated to have caused a number of surprising consequences, such as food shortages, migration in North America, agricultural ruin leading to Chinese opioid production, and even Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (Bragg, Citation2016). While the work we do as teachers is microscopic compared to the effects of Mount Tambora (and also hopefully much more encouraging), the anecdote is useful for recognizing how the effects of teaching stretch beyond our targeted learning objectives. This article presents an example of how to broaden our reach as educators.
Instructors who teach introductory studio courses face the task of covering large quantities of diverse content in a short amount of time. Developing material and technical knowledge requires time‐consuming practice. Yet these courses are essential for launching a relational studio practice embedded in critical thinking. How do we teach current developments in the field while also addressing the foundations of making? How can we correct shortcomings of the past that overlook the problematics of underrepresentation? The awkward leap from making still‐life paintings to producing conceptually thoughtful work often results in overly literal projects and thoroughly confused students. I propose we address the difficulty of this transition by removing the demarcation between the technical skills typically developed in introductory courses and learning objectives that are often reserved for advanced courses, such as conceptually based critical thinking.
The awkwardness of the often‐separated realms of form and content can be explained through an anecdote shared by artist and educator Olivia Gude (Citation2000). When teaching future instructors, Gude stumbled on an incongruency in her students’ answers to what they thought were the most pressing topics in art today and what they thought were important topics to teach their students. The art themes considered to be the most important to her students did not align with learning objectives they would include in a high school art curriculum. Gude suggests this is due to an overreliance on past notions of the foundations in art. She pointedly remarks that what many have learned to be the foundations of art (skill‐based learning) are not categorically so. Questioning the order in which art concepts should be taught forms the basis of my teaching model. In this article, I describe a “two birds, one stone” approach that targets multiple learning objectives. I focus on content relevant to college introductory painting courses; however, the teaching model is applicable to many levels of any studio art class. To illustrate the method, I use an example that is already widely practiced: presenting the work of contemporary artists in studio classes.
I propose that teaching contemporary art in the earliest stages of a student's career can be pedagogically productive. A single artwork is a “cavernous” substrate; it can metaphorically hold scores of information, whether it is self‐evident in the object itself or mined from its context as a relational cultural artifact, imbued with meaning based on who made it, when, and where. An artwork is a substrate in which various meanings are inscribed. Within it are the studio problems: the haptic knowledge learned in the laboratory of the artist's workplace; and also the priorities of the historian: the biographical, political, and historical contexts. A single painting is a kind of universe. Because the generation of meaning is nonfixed, the presentation of artwork examples can be oriented to fit an educator's particular agenda. This flexibility is even more effective when the implicit and explicit conditions of learning are considered. The explicit learning objectives are the instructor's priorities, outlined conventionally in units, such as a specific painting technique (primary content). I refer to implicit learning as knowledge not explicitly stated by the instructor but learned through exposure over time (secondary content). For example, a professor who only shares the work of American artists may implicitly teach students that only Americans make art. Therefore, teachers must understand how knowledge is produced and consider the secondary content that can be extracted from their courses. My teaching model demonstrates how to use an artist's work as an effective tool to address both primary and secondary content.
To begin, we must first identify our goals. The teaching goals are organized into three categories: technical skills, conceptual discourse, and knowledge production based on equal representation. The first goal addresses the primary material typically taught in a basic painting course, such as observational approaches to painting, color theory, or material problems. The second goal is to develop skills in conceptual discourse, an objective often prioritized in advanced studio art classes, seminars, or critique courses. Examples include ideas beyond formal concerns, such as signification, metaphor, or narrative. Finally, the third goal is concerned with democratizing the way knowledge is produced by teaching students that good and interesting art is being made beyond the margins. Being conscious of the valuation of art by hegemonic systems is beneficial for both the individual student and the culture to which they will contribute.
So how exactly does using the work of a diverse set of contemporary artists target our goals? The first objective of exposing students to technical, material, and formal problems is perhaps the most straightforward. The selected artwork can directly illustrate the methods being addressed in a project. For example, Kehinde Wiley employs a classical painting technique in his monumental depictions of Black figures. Through careful study, students can learn how to produce luminosity through layers of color or how a particular surface can be achieved. At the same time, his use of indirect painting is inherent to the meaning and purpose of the work: Wiley's use of a historically European painting technique challenges contemporary representations of marginalized group identities.
The fusion of method and subject matter in Wiley's paintings presses us to consider relationships between the marginalized and the powerful, which brings us to the second goal of addressing conceptual discourse in introductory courses. Discussing various interpretations of a given work can teach students that we do not live in a vacuum; the boundary between their work and what lies outside of it is porous. Furthermore, discussing a diverse set of contemporary artists can help students understand their own lineage. Being able to see their work as part of, and contributing to, current issues in the field can clear a pathway into the professional world. Even if this understanding is not the primary focus in courses that teach fundamental skills, regularly presenting examples of how an artwork connects to wider frameworks can lay the groundwork for future learning.
The third goal is perhaps the loftiest, as it relates to larger systemic conditions of the world in which we live. However, through local action in the classroom, the content we teach can help balance representation in future years. I argue that instructors should be conscious of how the curation of artists they present can teach what art and whose art is considered important, valuable, and good. If we look to certain canons of art history, we see a more homogenized set of artists than what reflects today's reality: a result of tendencies to favor certain perspectives over others. In my contemporary practice presentations, I show underrepresented artists alongside those that are well known. Foremost, this includes artists of color and artists outside the United States. At the same time, it is also important to include artists of “othered” identities who do not make work about their “otherness.” Inclusively curating artist examples for students has the potential to help internalize the actuality that important and exciting artmaking is happening in marginalized spheres.
The remainder of this article provides three examples of pairing contemporary art with specific learning objectives for an introductory painting course. The three example lessons are indirect painting, direct painting, and color theory. For each example, I provide a brief description of the primary content and then explain how a contemporary artist example can target all three goals previously described. The core of this teaching model echoes the research of Kerry Freedman (Citation2000), who takes on a social perspective to education. Freedman necessitates the proper contextualization of art by regarding the intersectional identities of the people that make up our communities. In her work, she points to the lack of consideration in the classroom of the lived experiences and identities that contribute to art production and consumption. Neglecting the broader context of a work of art leads to misunderstanding, which ultimately takes us farther from our pedagogical aims. My goal is to present a teaching model that contextualizes the actual making of art within a complex framework that includes but also reaches well beyond the “how‐to” and skill‐based approach to teaching studio art.
Indirect Painting and Hiroshi Sugito
Indirect painting historically refers to a traditional European painting technique that requires translucent layers of paint to be applied in sequence, establishing a highly rendered end product. Indirect painting is a rigorous technique that covers topics such as optical color mixing, glazing, grisaille, and the mechanics of handling the unique properties of oil paint. While, strictly speaking, this technique is associated with European paintings from the 15th to 18th centuries, work by the contemporary artist Hiroshi Sugito can serve as an additional or alternative teaching aid in describing the visual effects produced by building a painting in layers.
Hiroshi Sugito was trained in the Japanese tradition of Nihonga, a method of layering natural pigments to handmade paper (Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, n.d.). Sugito incorporates acrylic paint and dried pigments as he develops atmospheric and spatially perplexing landscapes. The reflection and refraction of light traveling through layers of pigment produce similar effects as those materialized in the indirect oil painting method. However, his materials are distinct from the European oil painters, creating surfaces and textures that are much different from the glasslike skin of the more familiar still‐life paintings found in the Louvre. Sugito's work also offers a valuable starting point for a discussion on pigment history: a topic not always covered in art classes because of the accessibility and affordability of manufactured paints. Prompting students to study and mimic both iterations of indirect painting encourages them to experiment more widely, a necessary step in understanding the limits and possibilities of a material. For example, students make two paintings of the same subject. The first painting is executed in the traditional European method of oil painting, using various media to build glazes into a glossy finish. The second painting is built using acrylic media and dry pigments (prebought or even found) to achieve the atmospheric potential of Nihonga. This experimentation expands the students’ understanding of painting mechanics as they discover the full spectrum of texture and surface possibilities.
In a 1999 review, Bruce Hainley described how Sugito's work showed the possibilities for history, politics, and poetry to be folded into a single package: “Trained in the 19th‐century Japanese painting methods of Nihonga (a school started in reaction to Western pictorial influence), Sugito complicates traditional structures by adding elements which recur with the uncanny dreaminess of fairy tales or traumatic nightmares” (para. 2). Hiroshi Sugito's work illustrates the indirect method in a surprising way but also supports additional learning regarding the global context of a work of art. His use of Nihonga is an excellent example of how a non‐Western method can illustrate similar properties of the Eurocentric technique of indirect painting.
Direct Painting and Lois Dodd
Direct techniques refer to painting in a more or less single layer. The challenge of this technique is that it presses an artist to make concrete decisions quickly and often simultaneously (Gottsegen, Citation2006). These paintings typically stress physical color mixing, varied types of paint application, faster working speeds, and intentional mark making. Lois Dodd's paintings demonstrate how the tighter time constraint of direct painting can intensify observational practices.
Introductory painting students can learn a lot about the process of perceptual painting by studying her work, including the chemistry of wet‐on‐wet techniques, varied painting speeds, and the fleeting condition of natural subjects. For example, in a two‐part prompt, students first attempt to copy a Lois Dodd painting, mimicking her mark making and color. Then they proceed to select their own subject matter to create observational paintings within the parameters of Dodd's methods. Stepping into Dodd's shoes provides a straightforward and efficient way of learning the many facets of direct painting. Most importantly, students learn through hands‐on experience the speed, concentration, and focus necessary for observational direct techniques.
Lois Dodd is a painter who is known for being an avid observer. She makes work that combines the intensity of observation with the economy of the mark. Dodd's paintings have a uniquely unfussy naturalism, making a case that immediate mark making is perhaps a truer record of seeing than slower indirect methods. Her practice is born out of mindfulness that necessitates a meticulous contemplation of the physical world. The immediacy of her marks emphasizes the transience of her subjects. Teaching the work of Lois Dodd targets the second learning objective of strengthening a student's ability to think critically by demonstrating a conceptual link between the materiality and interpretation of a work of art: The characteristics of Dodd's mark making point to philosophical notions of the nonstatic nature of perception. The internal glow of Dodd's Calla Lilies (Figure 1) exemplifies how the immediacy of her marks emphasizes the transience of her subjects by allowing light to pass through the surface of the paint.
Figure 1. Lois Dodd, Calla Lilies, 2005. Oil on Masonite, 14 in. × 11 ¾ in. ©Lois Dodd, courtesy of Alexandre Gallery, New York.
Alexandre Gallery (n.d.), who represents Dodd, notes that “while Lois Dodd's over seventy‐year‐long career runs parallel to many major artistic movements, most notably abstract expressionism and pop art, her dedication to pursuing her own vision has consistently defied categorization” (para. 2). Her career exemplifies a relentless vision developed on the margins of the mainstream art world, serving as a historical trajectory that approaches the third learning objective. Teaching Dodd's work alongside otherwise normative art historical narratives can support students’ internalization of a more nuanced version of art in the 20th century.
Color Theory and Nadia Haji Omar
Color theory is a broad subject that encompasses a range of topics, including physical and optical color mixing, the physics of light, color relativity, color as a cultural subject, pigment history, and so on. Optical mixing is a common example of a color theory concept addressed in an introductory painting course and is often explained by discussing pointillism. Optical mixing is a phenomenon within the eye in which the clustering of two or more colors appears as a single color. While a rote example of this technique would be Georges Seurat's A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, it is equally effective to share the work of contemporary artist Nadia Haji Omar.
Nadia Haji Omar's paintings provide an alternative to artist examples students will likely become familiarized with elsewhere. For example, in the 2017 painting titled Ha (Figure 2; Haji Omar, Citation2017), we see a blue‐green pattern laid over an orange field of color. If we squint our eyes or view from a distance, the green appears cooler and darker because of our eyes’ ability to mix adjacent colors. Haji Omar's modestly sized paintings, densely rich in color and mark, are good examples of the same optical mixing employed by the post‐impressionists. However, her work serves as a better model for teaching because of its abstract nature: It eliminates the distracting element of naturalism that often prevents students from fully understanding the intricacies of color phenomena. Prompting students to select one of Haji Omar's paintings as a color palette model provides practice in color mixing and perception. After colors are determined, students create their paintings using optically mixed color combinations not seen in the original selected artwork. This provides students clear parameters for learning a specific color concept while opening doors for unique discoveries.
Figure 2. Nadia Haji Omar, Ha, 2017. Acrylic and dye on canvas, 24 in. × 20 in. Courtesy of the artist and Kristen Lorello, New York. Photo credit: Jeffrey Sturges.
Haji Omar's practice adds additional complexity to the conversation in that she works from a markedly global standpoint. For a 2016 solo exhibition at Kristen Lorello (n.d.), the gallery described how
Haji Omar paints intuitively, drawing from memory of her studies of Chinese landscape painting, Islamic art, as well as the languages Arabic, Sinhalese, Tamil, and French, which she studied as an adult in the United States and absorbed as a child in Sri Lanka. (para. 3)
Born in Australia, and of Syrian, Indian, and Sri Lankan decent, Haji Omar makes work that draws from transnational experiences within different cultures (Yau, Citation2018). This background can demonstrate to students how ideas and histories seemingly outside of art have influence on artists’ practices.
The above examples demonstrate the compatibility of various instructional goals that are, in some cases, separated into distinct spheres. According to my teaching model, the primary content would remain the focus. However, regular exposure to secondary content would prepare them for advanced material covered in future courses, such as critique or theory. Regular and diverse exposure to contemporary artists improves critical thinking in the art student because it presents various perspectives; it supplies them with more tools for considering subjectivities outside of their own. Students must be able to define art—not as a monolithic entity with standardized values, but as a field that will forever evolve. In this regard, visual culture would be an apt term to integrate into studio art pedagogy because of its transdisciplinary potential. Paul Duncum (Citation2002) noted the irrefutability of the “ascendency of the image” (p. 16) and its embeddedness in the daily lives of artists and nonartists alike. Duncum urges educators to prioritize our changing visual culture in pedagogical practices. While my article focuses on improving students’ understanding of contemporary issues, it is equally important for educators to regularly reflect on and transform a curriculum according to the mutating world. Kerry Freedman and Patricia Stuhr (Citation2004) pointed to the reality that art education has historically been a field of change. If we look at the 20th century alone, the content taught in art classes has responded accordingly to changes in political, technological, and economic forces from the “outside.” From war propaganda to advancements in photographic technology, it is easy to imagine how adaptable art educators must be in the 21st century.
The butterfly effect is a theory that describes how seemingly inconsequential actions can have significant ramifications beyond our abilities to predict them. Like the story of Mount Tambora, events have consequences, whether or not we are conscious of them. I argue that if we look closer at the unintentional effects of teaching, we can be more productive in nearing our goals. While it is straightforward to assess improvement in terms of technical skills, it is much more difficult to evaluate an individual's internalization of a broader view of contemporary art practices. This challenge supports my reasoning that students may benefit from a layered approach rather than a strictly sequential one. Furthermore, looking at the entirety of a student's academic career may be the key to evaluating the effects of implicit learning. My hope is that through understanding certain conditions of learning, we can better craft teaching strategies to provide students with a holistic education that is shaped by the reality of the world they are preparing to enter.