It is likely that you are familiar with the Maker Space movement in the US. Maker spaces are shared often membership-based spaces where you can learn various making technologies from old (knitting and woodworking) to new (embroidery machines, 3D printers, and laser cutters). Most major US cities have one or more. I see this movement as a result of moving away from industrialization, shop classes in schools, and making things at home toward a service and global focused economy; a move, which has left a void.
Having made things since I was able, and having taught hundreds of students various forms of making, I believe working with our hands is an inherent human need. Physically, I know this. Making is also form of knowing. Howard Gardener calls this "bodily-kinesthetic intelligence". While some parts of our culture may value the arts, all too often, in ways both obvious and subtle, hand work (including visual arts) is not valued in the US culture. It is deemed less worthy in academic arenas (many colleges don't include art grades as part of a high school transcript) or worthy only as a support, i.e. the A in STEAM education, where (in my humble opinion) the A is often relegated to make a pretty posters, or to paint your robot in a funky way...a way to make art decorative or useful.
I will say it again...
Art is enough.
I hope to write a more in-depth blog on the value of making and thinking with your hands, but for now I want to talk about the importance of physical spaces in the making process. Since making is learning, it also relates to this mode of learning.
As an artist and educator in the arts, I know that space matters. Each mod, the art faculty at CSW spends good amount of time setting up class rooms, arranging tools, and preparing materials, in order to create a space where students can work freely, exploring the classes' questions to the deepest depths.
For many of my classes, the room on the first day of the mod is clean, spacious, and organized. Towards the end of the mod, the room shows its use: the walls are covered, projects are hanging from the ceiling, the sink is full of various containers, and last minute work is underway.
This is how I know something has been learned. This deceptive “chaos” is part of deep learning: the images are on the wall so a student can refer to proportions; projects are hanging for storage, but also to be able to see them while you work, to continue to learn from them; and tools are being shared among students.
As Harvard Professor Jennifer L. Roberts points out in her essay The Power of Patience https://harvardmagazine.com/2013/11/the-power-of-patience, (thanks to Jane Moulding for the reading) a depth of seeing and absorbing takes time.
"It is commonly assumed that vision is immediate. It seems direct, uncomplicated, and instantaneous—which is why it has arguably become the master sense for the delivery of information in the contemporary technological world. But what students learn in a visceral way in this assignment is that in any work of art there are details and orders and relationships that take time to perceive."
I would argue that learning with your hands is the same, and both time and a properly set up space are key elements. Physical learning takes space. How we set up that space physically and pedagogically is key.
Amsterdam, of course, has many innovative spaces. I don’t call them maker spaces because they are so much more than that. I am interested in a space that allows for areas of study to intersect and become fluid, a space that is not just safe but conducive for risk taking, a space where problem solving as a linear process is questioned, a space that values everything that is brought to the table, and asks "Why not?"
Most of the making and innovation that goes on in these spaces has goals beyond making: not just can we do it, but why and how should we do it? What do we want to accomplish through our actions? Often the question is how will this make our society better?
These incubator spaces are interested in doing the undoable, finding ways to reexamine our assumptions, and working within communities to solve bigger problems, and to ask “why not?” when forging into new waters.
The how is important, but the why feels bigger.
In the next few blog entries I will introduce you to some of these spaces, what makes them innovative, and allows for new ways of solving problems, new ways of designing solutions.
Addendum (January 2020):
I just read this article on innovation in the fashion industry:
I have many issues with the article in general, especially the idea that innovation = high tech. I think a lot of innovation pays attention to local and historical knowledge. I think its'a dangerous and honestly market driven notion to assume newer, faster, more high tech is in itself a way forward. Like anything else it could be, but the obsession with new and shiny is not in itself new and innovative. It reminds me of what I often tell my students, fancy doesn't make a work of art good, good makes it good.
But, there are two quotes from the article that ring true for me and relate to this blog:
Matthew Drinkwater, head of London College of Fashion’s Innovation Agency says “I sit more on the side that we don't teach innovation; we just create an environment in which it can take place.” He says that creating a sense of curiosity and experimentation is “vital”.
I think about this with my classroom environment, but am still excited by the idea of an innovative space at CSW with cross-specialization resources in one space.
The second quote is: “The current fashion industry is poison for innovation,” Lang says, referring to hierarchical, top-down structures. (Lisa Lang, the programme mentor and CEO of fashion-tech consultancy ThePowerHouse). The article goes on to talk about the importance of collaborative work, and questioning "the boss". As a teacher, I love when students question me. It can show original thinking on the part of the students , and helps me as an instructor consider my sources, re-examine assumptions, and work to explain the context around the ideas I am teaching. A friend refers to the ideal teaching situation as being a guide more than an unquestionable authority.
It also makes me a bit happy that the image to illustrate this article features Legos.
Further reading on making as learning
Shop Class as Soul Craft, by Matthew B. Crawford (really good although I am SO TIRED of men referring to cars and motorcycles as "she"...no one born in the past 100 years should do this. If you do this, stop it. Boats too.)
https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/301618/shop-class-as-soulcraft-by-matthew-b-crawford/9780143117469/
Why We Make Things and Why it Matters, by Peter Korn
http://www.peterkorn.com
and a quick piece: https://www.sciencealert.com/modern-life-is-brutal-here-s-why-craft-is-so-good-for-our-health
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