Marissa: Farewell!

Touring in the African Galleries.

It has been an amazing 8 weeks and I’m sad to see my time here end. I have learned so much from the dedicated people working in the Museum Education department here at the museum, and from my new friends and colleagues–Clara, Danielle, Emily, Jillian, Kris, Laura, Mikey, and Shannon. I am indebted to their support, patience, and encouragement. Below are the top ten things I learned during the internship:

1. Children contain the potential for great insight and empathy. I became aware of this as I engaged a wide range of students in conversations surrounding artworks in the collection. I have to admit that I do not often have extended conversations with children in my daily life, and when I do it is rarely about art. And though they do not know about art historical debates or art theory (lucky them), their questions and observations lead to fascinating discoveries.

2. There is nothing that can replace the importance of viewing art firsthand. Not to be weird about it, but there is something powerful about standing in the presence of art. Walter Benjamin was right–there is an aura to the work of art.

3. Always have a back-up plan. On days when all 9 interns, plus teacher program tours and self-guided tour groups, are touring in the galleries, there is a chance you will show up to a planned stop on your tour and there is already a group there. This is especially true when touring the museum’s most famous works such as the Grand Jatte or Nighthawks. Stalling or diverting from your original plan is what we call “tap dancing.” Though this can be challenge when you are first starting out, these improvisations have become some of my favorite lessons.

4. Lunch is best enjoyed in the North Garden. Taking a break in the shade at the tables in the garden provides a quiet moment of fresh air and conversation. Even though we spent a lot of time together, lunches with the interns were abundant with reflection on the day’s events.

5. Teaching is about listening as much as talking. The richest learning happens when you synthesize new information yourself, not when someone does it for you. The procedure of a lesson should set up a situation in which learners are analyzing art themselves and drawing their own conclusions. I have learned that listening to students responses and following their line of thinking always leads to the most engaging lesson.

6. Wear flats. Its a big museum and touring requires a lot of walking.

7. It takes a village. The programs in the Museum Education department require the coordination and contributions of multiple parties. In addition to department’s staff, we were assisted by lovely teen interns from all over Chicago. The teens assisted us in greeting arriving tour groups and setting up the studios. They were more than gracious and helpful even in the most hectic moments.

8. You can’t crowd 50 people around a small work of art. The museum’s public tours can attract large groups of interested adults. On free days the groups can swell even larger. There are a lot of amazing artworks that are small, but they sadly are logistically difficult with large groups.

9. I have much more to learn. I need another 8 weeks to keep implementing and refining my lessons. To learn how to teach you have to teach. I feel that I have just started to understand how best to engage people in a museum context. This internship has certainly peaked my interest in a future in museum education.

10. The Art Institute of Chicago is awesome. Everyday I found something here that I hadn’t seen before and I wanted to know more about. I still can’t believe they actually let me come here and hang out each day.

Marissa’s 7th week: Adult Tours

Leading public tours in the galleries has presented a different type of challenge for me. Adult audiences come is all shapes and sizes and have a range of expectations. While students are accustomed to classroom learning where raising your hand and being called on for answers is common place, adult audiences can range from the quiet observers who are seeking some additional information to the informed and experienced who like to ask questions or contribute their own knowledge. For this reason, public tours can be a treacherous and exciting experience for the uninitiated intern. But for the most part, I have been encouraged and congratulated for my efforts and am grateful for the opportunity to converse with such a wide range of museum visitors.

Charles White, This, My Brother, 1942

For my first public tour, I presented two works among the six that were planned with Annie Morse, an experienced and gracious museum lecturer. I chose two artworks that I was familiar with but wanted to investigate further: Van Gogh’s Madame Roulin Rocking the Cradle (1889) and Charles White’s This, My Brother (1942). I was so nervous and intimidated by the thought of presenting the works to an audience composed of an informed and inquisitive public that I proceeded to stress out and over think the entire endeavor. This unquestioningly resulted in me talking too much, asking awkward questions, and running over the time limit. Though it was not a complete disaster, I felt that I had mistakenly overlooked my task to develop a “lesson” instead of indiscriminately spewing information. When the time came, I knew the information, but I knew too much of it and felt the need to share. Such unfocused talking makes for a boring tour.

Today, I shared a tour focused on American Art with Shahrazad Shareef, a museum education fellow. The theme focused our attention on artworks that took up the ideas of leisure and pleasure. In particular, I presented two artworks in the American galleries: Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks (1942) and Archibald J. Motley’s Nightlife (1943).

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942

Nighthawks is an iconic painting in the museum’s collection; so much so that I rarely stop to look since I am so familiar with it. However, in preparing for the tour I became intrigued by Hopper’s particular notion of American identity and fascination with the narratives of filme noir. Nightlife proved a productive comparison since Motley had seen Hopper’s painting when it was displayed in the Art Institute in 1942 and “responded” with his painting of a Bronzeville Jazz club.

Archibald J. Motley, Nightlife, 1943

The group was engaged instantly in the discussion as we examined each work in terms of the artist’s depiction of leisure in urban America in the middle of the 20th century. I attempted to provoke discussion while providing contextual information. I found the observations that the group shared were helpful in getting at some of the larger themes. There was more that I could say about the works, but I avoided overloading them with information at the expense of having a more focused viewing.

The only way to learn how to teach is to teach. Over the past 6 weeks, this internship has been provided a wealth of experience for me in terms of learning how to engage an audience in a museum context. For me it has been a matter of trying something out, and then reassessing and reworking the material and approach. I will venture to say that today, after reassessing my strategy, I found some success and enjoyed the experience even more. Now to reassess and prepare for the next tour…

Marissa’s Sixth Week: Kaleidoscope Family Day

Family art activities in the Ryan Education Center.

Saturday was the Art Institute’s 14th Annual Kaleidoscope Family Day. The Ryan Education Center was full of families and art-making activities. All of us interns could not help but dive into the fun art activities that the dedicated staff of Family Programs designed for the day. We made headdress and masks based on artworks in the African collection in the museum (in addition to our ID badges, this colorful adornment made us instantly recognizable as museum staff and encouraged museum visitors to approach us for information regarding the day’s programming.)

Emily and I were assigned to show families from the Albany Park Community Center around the museum. Many of the families that came to enjoy the festivities had never been to the museum before. In addition to the various art activities in the Education Center, we took them to see some highlights in the galleries. We visited the Ando Gallery to see contemporary bamboo baskets by Fujinuma Noboru, and then went downstairs to visit the Thorne Miniature Rooms. At 1:00 we got front row seats to see the Old Town School of Folk Music’s Magic Carpet, which blended musical traditions from Africa and the Middle East.

The newly installed African and Indian Art of the Americas galleries were transformed into a sketch gallery. Families could make close studies of art objects from the collection using colored pencils. The museum was transformed by activities that combined viewing and making. Families were encouraged to create among the museum’s collection. It was a whirlwind of activity and an exhausting day full of fun. It is encouraging to see the ways that the museum reaches out to community groups and goes to great efforts to welcome them and provide programming for families that may not normally think to visit an art museum.

The newly-installed African Gallery.

Around the Gallery: Bowditch’s Alphabet by Danh Vo

I chose to research and tour this artwork the first week I arrived at this internship. I wanted to tour with all different groups in the Contemporary galleries, not only because of my personal interest in the area, but also since many contemporary artists address issues that are extremely timely yet can be difficult to approach for the uninitiated viewer. The difficult part was choosing an artwork and figuring out a way to engage the concepts evoked through “looking  closely.” I was stumped until I turned the corner and saw Danh Vo’s Bowditch’s Alphabet (the above picture does not do the work justice). I knew the scale and installation of the work would fascinate a variety of audiences.

Since I had a hard time finding any critical writing on the artwork or the artist apart from the wall label, I leaned heavily on my own interpretations. I approached my lesson by focusing on the work’s installation and juxtaposition of materials. I have toured the piece with students numerous times and the response has ranged from curiosity to confusion. Each time I discuss the work with a new group more insights and questions come to the surface. Throughout the past few weeks, I continue to discover new meanings and return to it often to unravel its complexity. The juxtaposition of such incongruous materials–gold leaf applied to cardboard boxes used to ship condensed milk to Thailand– and the reference in the alphabet to a 19th-century system of navigation evoke the shipment of commodities between ports in the West and East, the commodification of cultural others, and the ways that these exchanges relate to historically colonial relations, all while reclaiming gold, often used in art-making to gild religious objects and temples, as a form of capital.

In relation to the artist’s biography, the work becomes even richer. As a child, after the Vietnam-American War, Danh Vo escaped Vietnam with his family on a humble craft made by his father. They were rescued at sea by a Dutch cargo ship which took them to Europe where they remained. Vo crossed the ocean to a new life on a ship that likely used the 19th-century system of navigation that he represents here. His personal experience of war, immigration, and cultural difference adds a layer to the work that combines commodity and immigrant in an unsettling way. The more time I spend with this artwork, the more its complex meanings unfold.

Marissa’s Fifth Week: What do you feel that makes you say that?

In the fifth week, a few of us had the opportunity to tour with a group of visually-impaired students. In preparing the tour, we wanted to focus activities on discovery in the same way we would with sighted students. This presented challenges but also opportunities to rethink how someone might use their other senses to experience art. The most direct experience came through touch.

Islands by Izumi Masatoshi

We received special permission to touch a sculpture by Izumi Masatoshi, a large installation piece of three pieces of Japanese Tohoku Basalt stone. The work is an arrangement of basalt rock that the artist . Though some students were initially hesitant to explore a rock (how boring!), once they began to follow the surface with their hands they found a mix of rough and sharp textures, cracks to follow to larger breaks in the rock, and smoother surfaces were the artist cut the rock. By following the crevice between they discovered that two parts of the sculpture fit together like puzzle pieces and concluded that they had once been the same rock.

The process of discovery was no different for them than for our sighted visitors. In experiencing the work, the students were encouraged to spend the time to explore and reflect on what they discovered and from the conversation with the group.

Ando Gallery

Visiting the Ando Gallery extended the exploration through touch to include their spatial sense. The gallery is designed by architect Tadao Ando. He designed the gallery based on traditional Japanese entryways. Sixteen oak pillars form a grid upon entering–the students explored their arrangement and texture by moving among them and feeling their texture. Immediately upon entering the gallery they noticed the dimmed light, the echo of my voice in the room, and the cooler temperature. The contrast from the other galleries in the museum was noticeable, and the different mood prompted reflection on the nature of the museum’s different spaces.

As a lover of visual art, I found developing a lesson for visually-impaired students challenging. However, it revealed to me how the the predominance of the visual can foreclose other types of sensual experiences that are available to all of us.

Marissa: Discovering the true value of student-centered learning.

One of the biggest challenges I have encountered during Student Tours is finding ways to connect the artwork to the student’s experiences. It is difficult because I do not know the students and I have a short time to build a rapport with them. (Even more, before they are introduced to me, they are greeted with all the rules of the museum–rules are important but they are not my favorite way to set the tone.) Also, our students come from all over the city, from the suburbs, throughout the state of Illinois, and this week one group even came all the way from Alabama. They have wildly different backgrounds and interests. While I can’t anticipate they all share a common knowledge base, I can anticipate that I will be touring with young minds that are curious as much as they are skeptical. For this reason, I learned this week that teaching is not just about knowing the facts, forming objectives, and following a procedure (though these are all valuable tools of the trade), rather it’s about listening to the students and constantly adjusting your lesson to where they want it to go–its about accessing their ideas and what they can bring to the work that is most rewarding. I was discussing my experiences touring this week with a teacher–a veteran music teacher in the public schools–and he shared a similar perspective. He said that when he had 20 students in a room with instruments the combination of their creativity was greater than anything he alone could come up with even as a classically trained and much more experienced musician. The trick in teaching then is to find a way to access the creativity, curiosity, and deep insights of a group of students. And it is a trick because when you see a teacher accomplish it, it seems like magic.

Hubert Robert, The Fountains, 1787/88

My favorite artwork to tour this week was Hubert Robert’s The Fountain. I chose the work because our tour had an unusual lack of the good old European masters. The painting, one of a series of four in the gallery, is huge and the immensity of its interior space truly reflects Robert’s interest in the sublime. But how to pique the interest of teenagers in Neoclassicism? Easy–don’t even mention  such a drab art historical term. Instead we talked about how Hollywood  imagines the apocalypse in movies such as Independence Day and 2012. That sense of impending doom we feel when we see an alien spaceship blow-up the White House or a tsunami engulf the skyscrapers of Manhattan’s skyline is similar to the way a contemporary French gentleman would feel contemplating the fall of Rome in the decades before the French Revolution (during which the original owner of the paintings lost his head). Civilizations pass away and imperial glory fades. What was remarkable was that the students saw the painting as ultimately optimistic. The activity of the people below who do not seem bothered by the ruin’s faded glory are going about their business. Humanity survives, adapts and rebuilds their societies even as mighty powers fail.

I am looking forward to working in the museum’s activity tent in Millennium Park next week, and having another chance to work with the 3- and 4- year-olds. Though a lot of research and planning will need to happen for the following week when I lead an Adult Tour with Annie and finish up my plans for my Family Tour in time for the Kaleidoscope Family Festival.

Third week: Marissa’s first week of student tours.

It has been so great to start touring with students this week! (Forgive the gratuitous exclamation–it is meant to express the trepidation and excitement of leading our first batch of student tours). Mikey and I have spent the week negotiating the logistics of touring. We never know who is going to be walking through the doors. Some groups are quiet and cautious, while others are talkative and engaged throughout. Over and over I am struck by the difficulty of facilitating a discussion about an artwork with a group of students I have just met. Though I develop a lesson with a carefully orchestrated procedure, it all goes out the window when the students become engaged and steer the conversation where they want it to go. It reminds me that it is their interests and knowledge that should guide the discussion, not mine.

Egyptian Mummy Head Cover, Roman Period, 1st century B.C.

The pace of researching and developing lesson plans has quickened as we adjust our tours to accommodate the requests of different groups. Sometimes groups request specific countries or regions. I developed a lesson for Ancient Egyptian head covers–an area I have only briefly studied earlier–but the students responded strongly to the death rituals and beliefs. It is exciting to see their sense of wonder at an object that is 2,000 years old.

Presenting works that emphasize Chicago’s history has also been popular and the museum’s collection presents many opportunities to discuss Chicago’s diverse cultural heritage with works by Archibald J. Motley, Frank Lloyd Wright.

The list of objects that I want to research and present is growing longer. I am drawn to my earliest art historical interests–Van Gogh’s Le Berceuse and Toulouse-Lautrec’s Equestrienne–but also my latest interests in the Contemporary galleries– Martin Puryear’s Sanctuary and anything by Felix Gonzalez-Torres.

Vincent van Gogh Dutch, Madame Roulin Rocking the Cradle (La Berceuse), 1889

After my first week touring with students, I have identified aspects of my teaching that I need to work on. First and foremost, I need to adjust my lesson plans for the appropriate age group. I have very little experience working with children below the age of 12 in formal situations so I need to be more aware of the words I use and become more familiar with their knowledge base. Today I asked a group of 3rd and 4th graders if anyone knew what the Great Migration was–blank stares.

At this point, I am getting a feel for conversing with students about an art object. I love hearing what they think about it and sometimes if they are engaged I will let them talk and ask questions instead of trying to finish my lesson. In many ways, teaching is the only way to learn how to teach, so the daily practice is helpful. I am grateful for my colleagues who are available to talk about strategies and give feedback.

Next week, the students get younger–3 and 4 year-olds! This may be my biggest challenge yet.

Marissa’s first 2 weeks: Reintroduced to the Art Institute of Chicago

Over the past two weeks, I have been reintroduced to the Art Institute. I have lived in Chicago for 10 years, and have spent many days in the galleries enjoying my favorite pieces. When the Modern Wing opened in 2009 and many of the collections were reinstalled, I found myself seeing the artwork on display in a new way. However, the first two weeks of the this internship have been even more eye-opening for me. We are encouraged to research and present works from the collection that come from a wide range of cultures, time periods, and media. The task has taken me out of my comfortable areas–modern and contemporary American and European art–into the newly installed African galleries and among the ancient bronzes from South Asia. Even more so, the research and presentations of my new colleagues have reintroduced me to works that I tend to walk past at a fast clip in order to get to objects that interest me.

The challenge to research and present art to the different audiences that visit the museum, considering their diverse backgrounds, interests, and expectations, have reminded me of the complex situation that art museums present. I have been renewed in my own excitement at being in the presence of artworks, and I look forward to the challenge of reintroducing them to museum visitors–whether art lovers or deep skeptics.

During the first two weeks we presented mock tours to our new cohort. It was unnerving to say the least. A real tour group doesn’t always know when you get lost in the discussion and miss your objectives. However, the critical eyes and ears of our mentors and colleagues helped us finesse our presentation–stand still and make eye contact, leave out the “umms…”, and project your voice–but they also gave us suggestions to engage different groups of visitors. I really enjoyed presenting Archibald Motley’s Nightlife for an adult tour. It was the perfect artwork to talk about Chicago’s diverse cultural traditions and even its sorted racial history.

Other pieces were more challenging, like a 10th century bronze from Southern India, Shiva as Lord of the Dance. It is full of symbols that a Western viewer, unfamiliar with the culture and religion, would never be able to unravel. I continue to struggle to present artworks in a museum context that were never intended to be appreciated as art objects, yet I see the importance of highlighting the diverse range of art objects in the museum and the opportunity they present to learn about other cultures is immensely valuable.

 I am looking forward to more challenges ahead!