Am I from planet Mars?

Just finished a challenging course outdoors, my first with an all-American adult audience. Challenging not quite because of the material covered, but because I had to fight lots of my own demons. I realized that after some twenty plus years living in the US - I still felt inadequate in communicating in English. I felt again like a newly arrived immigrant from planet Mars. Why? Are we forever plagued with self-doubt if there's no land to call one's own?

It's the little cultural differences that struck me and wouldn't let me move beyond them. Participants not wanting to be close together, seeking solitary time instead. People not wanting my communal blanket, my tables and paint tubes brought to share, my Dale Carnegie inspired chitter-chatter about their everyday lives.

When indoors with a Russian-speaking group it's all about wanting to have good company, sharing some therapeutic insights into our lives and the world outside, taking my lead into exploring how our creative outcomes tell us something about things needing attention in real life.

Or is this just two sides of my own personality wanting to fight it out, clashing in their goals? Part of me wants a great tight group of friends to share in the experience of finding myself. Yet, another part wants some alone time, to reflect and come to my own conclusions, without someone's five cents in the process. Was this experience merely a mirror into how we all struggle to find our true self?

Material exploration vs. progress

So my goal when planning the curriculum for the school was to make sure there're varieties of materials at hand and that at every lesson there's a rotating exploration of various art forms: painting, drawing, collage and sculpting... half the classes indoors and have outdoors.

This way kids never get bored, feel more open to experiment and discover hidden talents.

However, there's this constant demand for progress, and the trouble is that by the time a monthly rotation is over and we start on the same medium again next month - it often feels like they don't remember how to approach it and we're starting from scratch. To anxious parents who are trying to ascertain progress at the end of each class it also doesn't feel like things are moving fast enough. It feels like more of a jerky reaction approach rather than a program developed for long term natural growth.

But then I'm totally against a step by step demo class, and every time I show my own variation, they immediately copy what I did as opposed to turning on their imaginations or powers of observation. I really don't want every child to walk out with my version of a cat. I want them to observe the world and develop their own schemas that will remain with them for a lifetime, or change based on their changing perceptions of the world...not mine. And I don't want to be the teacher who says: 'You came here to paint, so why are you so focused on the sharpener?' I think sharpening pencils is part of the process of material exploration and developing comfort with the medium.

Also, if I prolong a project which half a class wasn't thrilled about, then it turns into the torture many kids associate with school projects and art is no longer fun and therapeutic like it should be.

So it's a constant dilemma and I know I can't be all things to all people, but how do I achieve this balance between teaching technique and providing fun variety of media?

Are we killing their imagination?

I'm amazed at the flight of imagination in most
3-6 year olds. Free associations abound, twisting, connecting and disconnecting at 100 miles an hour. A single sketch can have so many different layers that effortlessly succeed each other and just work. And then, abruptly, perhaps with the start of school, it stops.

The other day in class a 5 year old came up with 3 different variations of a zoo theme. An almost 7 year old copied exactly what the other child did as he couldn't imagine anything else. So sad.

The more they root themselves in the real world, the less their imagination roams, the more they become like us, adults, unsure of our beliefs, striving for perfection, afraid to let go. These free associations only visit us in dreams, or induced by hallucinatory drugs, like in the case of Dali and most Surrealists.

But am I partially at fault then for forcing the kids to pay close attention to details around them, instead of nurturing their ability to invent realities? Are we as overachieving parents , while pushing the kids to study the tangible, scientific truths earlier and earlier - killing their innocence prematurely? Should I help the kids complete their imaginary realms rather than attempt to ground them? If they allow their imagination to flourish, then perhaps it will live a bit longer, perhaps as adults they'll have an easier time summoning it? Perhaps they won't have such difficulties returning to purity? Like all us artists do?

Template projects for children

So of course my imagination doesn't run wild all the time and I have to resort to checking various project ideas on the web. Also because I'm strong in some things and haven't used other media in some time - I go ahead and try various suggested lessons on my students.

Perhaps I deal with a much younger audience and simply miss the point, but I'm getting more and more frustrated with the prevalence of follow me instructions. If the main goal of an art teacher is to develop creative thinking - then why do all Monet ponds in one class have to end up looking almost identical?


Yes, if we're raising robots, then they should simply follow step 1, 2, 15, 20. But with excited kids full of raw emotions shouldn't their imagination play a certain part in the process, shouldn't there be an element of media exploration, experimentation, flight of imagination? So what if it isn't a pond with water lillies a la Monet that will look perfect for when the parents come in to look at it? What if it's a farm, or a zoo, or a cave with dragons? At least you see real personal interest there and not a follow along manual.

And yes, I know that with age children's minds cannot roam as freely and they become as rooted as adults in the real world. But perhaps just in art class they can get in touch with their inner selves and be kids just a little longer?

What's the difference between a 4 year old's work and a Jackson Pollock?

Many experienced collectors don't get abstract art. What can I ask of an average parent then, even of myself? Yes, when I look at a Jackson Pollock sometimes I think my kid can do that: and you know what? He can. But the question is how does he arrive at the end result?

For an excited preschooler it's a happy accident - and it's up to adults to appreciate the sudden color relationships, layers of thoughts piling up on one another, a story that keeps growing and changing as it develops in the mind of a child.

For an adult abstract painter it's a much more complex trip and therein lies the difference. Every patch of form and color is planned, its application is a result of years of grueling experimentation, inward analysis that can drive one mad. Suddenly the rhythm works, composition flows, your eye wanders around the balanced painting. And many a time it's overworked, trying to say too much, not leaving any room to breathe.

I think the more I strive for meaningful abstraction, the more I appreciate a child's freedom. Their inner voice is so clear, and its driving their hand to simply act - pure energy, new sensations with new material exploration. Let's learn to love their work before they grow up and their innocence in abstracts disappears. Reality will surely kick in by age 7.

Dynamics of a group

Adults change based on whom they encounter, despite our trying to stay 'true' to ourselves. We're different with our parents and with friends, with our spouses and with our children. I'm now starting to see how early this change in behaviors occurs. Any new variable in the group determines its success, starting from when the kids begin to interact, at the age of 3.

I was reviewing notes from a fellow teacher when I was preparing for classes and was wondering why she talked about each new student entering her class. It's a huge adjustment - that's why! One bad apple spoils the bunch they say...Sadly, quite a true statement and a tough one to control. No child behaves similarly in any given group, and it takes most quite a bit of time to adjust to any change.

Siblings act together as a unit, exhibiting roles they have adapted at home, for comfort sake, younger mimicking the older, older ones overprotecting the young. When separated, they're very different individuals. Those constantly acting out in front of parents, to win some independence and control of their lives, have no need to do so in an unknown setting where everyone is on a level ground. Loud kids quiet down and turn their gazes inwards, introvert kids feel they can speak up in a smaller group setting.

So how does one ever begin to stay true to him/herself if we're constantly adjusting? Do we ever know who we are if cards change so many times per day? And what is better for the kids - stability or constant change to develop strong personalities?

The battle of expression and end result

So as I go on lamenting on my attempts to relax and let go while painting, I hold a class with a serious theme of portraits a la Matisse. Kids have fun painting to music, they get crazy to 'Loca Loca' and start dancing to Spanish rhythms while throwing paint onto their paper, arms swooshing, whole body moving and everything. I, in the meantime, totally freak out that my portraits are going nowhere and soon enough their abstracts will also turn into mud. I'm so dead set on my idea of how this class's project is supposed to look, that I can't appreciate these children's pure enthusiasm and excitement about simply painting. And yet, isn't this why we're here in the first place? To let them express their emotions in productive ways, to allow them to unleash their creative juices and simply enjoy the process?

We as adults are so programmed on end results that letting those shift is exceptionally tricky - so difficult in fact that many of us end up doing the work for the kids, just to make sure it comes out "right", in accordance with our  standards.

My son brings home ceramic plates, jugs and animals that they supposedly make in day care. Except he doesn't even recognize them as his, and we both know he's not at that level of sculpting - his art teacher does everything for him. And what is the purpose of such an art class?

What about you - can you appreciate the process or do you get upset when the end result is nothing to write home about in works by your kids?

Or in general, can we as adults simply relax and enjoy the act of doing something without it having to result in something grand?
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photos copyright Anna Kreslavskaya

Adding to Adam Lanza's trail of discussions

It seems like the whole world is discussing the motives of Adam Lanza and other problem children who are at risk for hurting our society. It's time that I add my five cents towards the ongoing discussion from an educational perspective. A mother who comes from a creative world, and a wife to someone who is purely analytical, I find it very difficult sometimes to defend my point of view in allowing and promoting children's creative urges.

It seems with the focus on math and sciences and incessant testing on those subjects in our school systems that our society is so preoccupied with training robots that poor children don't get a chance to feel and react to the world around them. I know of parents who prefer to not read fairy tales to their children, (to not cloud their minds with surreal imagery). But what about fostering their imagination or learning valuable lessons about morals, human psychology, etc? Most extracurricular activities are aimed at bettering the chances of ultimate college applications, aka sport sections galore and extra math labs from the age of 4. There's lessening interest in the arts: music, writing, sculpting, painting, theater...and many schools are completely taking creative arts out of their curricula. If those exist, it's only to develop fine motor skills, expose to various options and materials, but not to treat the left side of the brain seriously, not to discuss art production as a way of learning about the inner and outside world.

Yet, as famous child development psychologist, Viktor Lowenfeld notes: "It is interesting to note that youngsters who have run into problems with the law and been put into institutions under the label of "delinquents" have apparently not been able to express themselves creatively".

Judging from my own experience, I paint best when I'm angry at the world. All these negative emotions are being put to creative use. The act of artmaking is allowing me to calm down, process my feelings and regain a trail of logical thought. No wonder art therapy has become such a hit over the last few decades. It opens doors to our subconscious and kids who aren't yet able to express themselves with words, are given a chance to let it all out, explain themselves by other means so that others could listen in. If only Adam Lanza's mother knew what her son was suffering from, if he had a way to calm down, he could have been a genius, a hidden gem in our midst. Jackson Pollock is considered the most influential Amerian artist of the 20th century...