A Table for…

“My comments thus far have been intended to free the aesthetic from the province of the arts alone and to recognize its presence in all human formative activity” (Eisner, 1985: 28)

As I read Eisner’s article last week, with last week’s prompt at the fore, my mind kept drifting to the dining room. I envisioned the ordinary with pots plopped down on the table straight from the stove, a mismatched set of silverware sidled up next to a sorry set of dishes, and cups and glasses of all kinds capping off each tough-looking table setting. While homey, perhaps, and certainly not a hindrance to hospitality, this arrangement would not be considered aesthetic by any stretch of the imagination.

How would the eating experience be different if the food was served up in matching dishes designed to adorn the table center? What if the conforming cutlery cascaded down from the top of the plate to the table’s edge in a flowing fashion like that of water? What if the plates and bowls, bound together by a beautiful border, brightened the table and somehow subconsciously bolstered the flavor of the food? What if crystal cones and cylinders containing cool, refreshing drinks sparkled as a synchronized set? Is this something reserved only for royalty? Or, can the regular Joe relish these aesthetic amenities?

As I thought about this masterpiece before the meal, my mind marveled at how the mundane can be made marvelous. What a surprise I experienced when Eisner noted a similar scene. “The need for coherence… manifests itself in all walks of life from the setting of a table to our social interactions. The exquisite creation of either is a very high aesthetic achievement.” Eisner goes on to say, “The aesthetic, then, is motivated by our need to lead a stimulating life” (Eisner, 1985: 30). Does this mean that if we set the table more aesthetically the food will taste better, the conversation will be more captivating, and the meal will be more memorable overall? Does this mean that, while satisfied with sustenance, we search for the zest and the salt and sparkle?

How does this connect to the classroom? How do we create coherence?

To be continued…

(My train of thought was interrupted... I need to return to this at a later time)

Insight from a Hospital Bed

Week 8 - Discussion Post (also on FB)

Reading Eisner’s article took me back to one of our opening readings about the arts in education. In Phillip Jackson’s article, Judith Burton was referenced as identifying two approaches to art – “art with a capital A” and “art with a small a” (Jackson, 1994: 1). I couldn’t help but link, albeit loosely, Eisner’s “form” (noun) to “Art” and his “form” (verb) to “art” (or forming to artistry).

In thinking about these terms, I also thought about if one could be considered “nature” and which one “design.” Creating this link was somewhat more difficult. In the end, I wasn’t able to attach nature and / or design separately to either the noun or verb version of “form,” but it was interesting to read about and reflect on the design elements of the forms mentioned by Eisner and the nature evoked by them. In addition, I was intrigued by his discussion of form (verb), and how “To be able to produce such forms the qualities that constitute them [design?] must be appraised by their contribution to the life of feeling [nature?]” (Eisner, 1985: 27). Maybe this is redundant, but somehow the relationship between nature and design as they pertain to form (noun) and form (verb) were somehow proportioned differently. What do you think?

In applying Eisner’s concept of “form” to the domains of photography, television & film, and architecture & design, there are a relatively easily identifiable list of “qualities that constitute them,” as gleaned from our readings. In photography, of course, one must consider “Space distribution, color, mood, perspective, depth, light and time of day, shapes, etc.” (Hopkins, 2003). Frame boundaries, texture and patterns, leading lines, symmetry, depth of field, focus, foreground / background (Calvetti, 2006; Rowse, 2010; Tal, 2010) are other compositional elements to consider. One could argue that any amateur could apply these elements and end up with a “good photo,” a form that is functional and maybe even fabulous. What make a photo and photographer great, though, is when that final form seizes and stimulates story, sentiment, and something about the stuff of life (Calvetti, 2006; Hill, 2010)

Story (Groh, 2001) is also central to the success of television and film, but so are sound, score, sequencing, staging, and special effects (Oldham, 1995). Paul Hirsch says, a great deal of work also goes in to “the script, the set, the costumes, the lighting, the shooting, the acting, all that is devoted to accumulating the raw materials.” (Oldham, 1995: 192). On top of the more technical elements, filmmakers must carefully contemplate how tension, suspense, surprise, solemnity, foreboding, and humor enter in and affect an effect on the viewers. When done well, one might hear, “And the Oscar goes to…”

On the home front, Susan Susanka dares to design with three “simple” forms in mind – space, light, and order. Each, though, is split into subcategories, some of which are more tangible than others. Shelter around activity, light to walk toward, and theme and variations are just some elements that transform a house into a home.

Being holed up in the hospital with my husband, I’m trying to think of how form applies in this place. In medicine, the following of Eisner’s statements is true, “Not only must a certain kind of competence be acquired in order to perceive the qualities of form in the objects available to us, but the nature of our experience with these forms is influenced not only by the form itself but by our past” (Eisner, 1985: 26). I thought about this in the middle of the night, as a technician did an ultrasound on my husband’s abdominal area. As she poked and prodded and purposefully positioned the tools of her trade, interesting and informative images began to appear. As I watched he wander with the wand, I was fascinated by her ability to form the form on the screen, to be able to find the culprit of the pain. How much more amazing must this be for moms, when there is life looming inside?

So far this morning, we have had two visits from our surgeon. Thankfully, he likes to talk about his art and artistry. His initial visit came shortly after all the test results were in, so we got an anatomy lesson focused on the affected area. There was something artful about the verbal form he formed, a clear picture of each organ and its function (and potential faults). His ability to communicate clearly cultivated confidence and calm in us.

Later, he shared some about the impending surgery. To him, the inside of a human body must be like a lump of clay waiting to be formed or a canvas on which to leave his signature. Surely he could say, “The aesthetic, then, is motivated by our need to lead a stimulating life. Related to the need to explore and play, the aesthetic is part and parcel of what these processes are intended to yield, not only practical outcomes related to premeditated goals, but the delights of exploration” (Eisner, 1985: 30). As he engages in his art, surgery, his primary goal (practical outcome) is hopefully to fix the problem, but as he forms the fix, might he find some aesthetic (delights of exploration) in the incision or the process of suturing or in the study of what he finds inside. Just as he already drew on his past experience in order to communicate with us, his exploration of this form will be added to his experience and past, from which he will draw in the future. I’m sure if he was asked this question, he might be able to elaborate more fully on form, but this is as far as my flirtation with this form goes at the moment.

As a added note… I also appreciated the common call from these two authors to consider “the nature and design of compelling experiences.”

“The aesthetic in education has two major contributions to make, neither of which is yet a purposeful part of our educational agenda. First, it tells us about the world in ways specific to its nature. Second, it provides the experiential rewards of taking the journey itself. These potential contributions must surely be important to those who wish, as we do, to improve the quality of school for the young.” (Eisner, 1985: 36)

“‘Our children,’ they [Stake, Bresler, and Mabry] explain, ‘need to be encouraged to explore, to see and hear with other eyes and ears, to sense the power of understanding that can be gained from another’s point of view, to translate their own thoughts and feelings into a socially communicable and engaging form.’” (Jackson, 1994: 2)

Do the preceding two paragraphs not sound like they could have been written by the same author? Both advocate artistry and the aesthetic.

A Study of Two Sandwich Shops

Architecture and Interior Design Module Project - Video (Revised)



Transcript (Original)

The first stop on this architectural adventure is… Subway. As I approach this familiar food franchise located on the corner of a common commercial construction, the simple signage subtly and subliminally show the way. While I have seen the sign many times, I had never really attended to the all-important arrow that advises all to enter.

While not likely a suggestion from Subway, some of the structural elements at the bend of the building, such as the protruding portico, the prominent pillars, the accenting arches on adjacent sides of the entrance, and the glass store front, supplement the suggestion of a subterranean subway system. As I get closer, I feel as if I will soon descend to the depths where tracks and trains are ready to transport. Instead, I am about to be swallowed into the belly of this global gastronomic giant.

Once inside, I am met, not with the dull and dreary, but a warm and welcoming glow. The mustard-colored mural, mounted on the wall and framed with crown molding, mimic a subway map of a notable New York borough. Cultural and commercial constructions combine with the underground connections to create a sense of being “on the go” and on the scene in Queens. As my eyes follow this feigned fresco, they find full-length photos featuring foods from each of four food groups. These sizable screens scream, “Follow me for FRESH!” In a flash, FRESH is found. Fresh foods are also featured in a tiled collage of sorts, displayed all along the lower front face of the assembly line.

As I move from the mural to the menu, a consistent color scheme keeps my concentration on the freshness and begins to foster the feeling of flavor. Heralding “healthy” hues, such as those drawn from the natural dyes in vegetables (red - tomatoes; green - cucumbers, peppers, and lettuce) or cured into the curds (yellow - cheese) or leavened in loaves (brown - baked bread), the menu boards make my mouth water. Mounted overhead, at the back of the sandwich assembly area, it is easy to see and select certain sandwiches, which start the submarine sandwich assembly process. A sign suspended from the ceiling stating, “Please order here,” marks the starting point at which customers first encounter an employee. While not obvious, this almost ornamental oval communicates a sense of order.

Before the building begins, though, customers are met with an oversized submarine sandwich. This substantial sample, strategically set at eye level, stimulates shoppers’ salivary glands and prompts them to purchase a foot-long rather than a six-inch sub. Just beyond this delicious-looking decoration, the baking center, sporting the Subway logo (aforementioned arrow included), beckons. The warm oven light and baking bread cause the consumer to engage with the product and support the theme of freshness. In addition, chrome appliances and countertops convey cleanliness, as do the glossy white tiles that serve as a backsplash.

Directly in front of the customers, at the start of the assembly line, is a set of placards with nutritional information, sandwich-making ingredients with healthy choice options, and simple step-by-step procedures for sandwich or salad assembly. Once again, health and order are emphasized. As customers follow along the assembly line, glass allows them to gaze down on the ingredients in order to make informed and individual choices. To aid this added level of customer autonomy and accountability, the simple step-by-step signs are placed at strategic stages along the way. This organizational element helps customers plan and prepare for questions they will be asked, which in turn aids efficiency and theoretically preserves the freshness of the product.

Once at the end of the lines, customers meet a few final choices. To customers’ left is a clear case of cookies, with costs and flavors labeled clearly. To the immediate right of customers, in front of the cashier, is a set of cups from which customers choose the size of beverage they would like. This choice must be conducted prior to calculating the cost, but the location of the cups makes this both convenient and customer friendly. As the customers collect their individually wrapped subs, they are able to snag a bag of chips. Whether selected from a wicker basket or wire rack, these savory snacks are easily accessible and a choice tailored to the consumer’s fingertips. Immediately across from the cashier’s counter is a beverage buffet of sorts, with convenience and choice as the cornerstones.

With meal in hand, customers can then choose to sit in one of three seating areas. Two areas, a small area at the back by the bathrooms and a larger area to the left of the entrance, are fitted with tables for two. While ready to reconfigure and flexible enough to fit a family of four or more, the tables are arranged in what might be considered rigid rows that reflect the tight grey tiles on the floor. Order and organization are obvious. The green speckled tabletops and vinyl upholstered seat cushions in green, red, and yellow continue to colors of freshness found throughout the rest of the restaurant. Standard fluorescent lighting with translucent panels to diffuse the light illuminate these eating areas. Perforated panels secured with black stripping serve as the ceiling. The panels above the preparation area, while similar, are separated by a frame of crown molding, like that used to frame the mural. Ceiling fans with a country kitchen style add character and provide circulation as needed. A third area along the right hand side of the restaurant is lined with contoured benches. Each table is designed for four and allows customers to consume their meals while watching out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The natural light filtering in from this wall of windows and the one at the front of the shop also adds to the fresh feel.

When all is said and done, the Subway experience is true to the logo… eat fresh.


After emerging from Subway, I sauntered over to a sandwich shop where sentiment is savored. While similarly structured on the surface, these corner constructions did not have much in common. Beyond the brick, there was much more of this business and building to behold.

From afar, Potbelly presents as… a pub. Approaching from an angle, the forest green awnings, large lantern light fixtures, painted paned glass picture windows, and weathered wooden doors all tilt a traveler’s thoughts toward a tavern. Even the style of the sign, with warm earthy tones and classic “Cheers” font, signals “saloon” rather than “sandwich shop.” Despite the confusion, “Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name” (Angelo & Portnoy, 1982). Character calls, and I am compelled to enter.

As I set foot in the door, the sense of “saloon” is sustained… for a second. The speckled brown cement slabs simulate, albeit slightly, dirt. The “Cheers” charm is quickly converted, though, into an old-fashioned soda fountain feel or a setting where sarsaparilla is sold. Unlike Subway, where order is obvious, and where I (and my eye) was almost forced to follow a certain path, the walls of Potbelly are plastered with paraphernalia from the past, which piques my interest immediately. Inundated by interesting images and antique artifacts, I allow my eyes to wander and my mind to wonder. While much of my attention had been directed up, my eyes eventually land on a Potbelly stove positioned prominently at the entrance. What would Potbelly be without this signature stove? Throughout my time in this sandwich shop, a number of vintage variations on this theme pop (or potbelly) up.

When the fascination finally wanes allowing me to direct my attention to design (and dining), I notice a novel niche carved out on the left hand side of the restaurant. Separated from the eating area by a four-foot high wall, an open corridor corrals customers into a queue. At the far end of the cordoned-off area, an illuminated beverage refrigerator draws diners down a divided walkway. Carved wooden posts connected by chains create two columns to facilitate the flow of traffic. These simple and somewhat standard features (with flair) are not only organizational but also inviting. As customers walk and wait, they are able to peruse the products posted on a large black menu board located above the refrigerator. Sandwich names are noted in yellow, while ingredients and / or descriptions follow in green. In addition to being easy to read, the colors conjure up feelings of freshness and flavor, as was the case in Subway. As customers clear the corner and face the counter, they are able to refer to a similar (smaller) menu board located directly above / behind the cashier. This detail is both convenient and somewhat calming, as customers are less likely to get flustered or forget their flavor of choice. A wall where products like pickles and packages of chips are displayed conceals the sandwich assembly area. While customers are unable to see their sandwich, they are able to engage with the enthusiastic and entertaining employees. This design detail promotes a people-centered rather than a product-centered experience. Signs scrolled in all sorts of scripts support the fact that this sandwich shop is something special, something unique. It also implies that the individual is important. Again, person is prioritized over product (although, the products are prepared with pride).

As customers approach the end of the aisle, they can opt to order ice cream or other delectable desserts. The cupboard, cans, and cones all contribute to that classic soda shop sentiment, which is aligned with the antique atmosphere and family-friendly feel. After customers cash in, they can continue to where the colas and condiments are conveniently contained. This quaint corner of the shop sports some wonderful wooden cabinetry and a coveted curio table.

Unlike the fairly uniform seating options available at Subway, Potbelly provides a plethora of places to park, each one unique. Whether a customer is interested in a private park bench for two or a painted patio-type table for three, or a plank-like table with inlayed patterned tile (for four or more), Potbelly has it all. Even though all are intermingled, it is implied that individuality is important and an element of intimacy is evident, as well.

Nothing is lost on lighting, a design detail that definitely adds to the life and levity of this location. Whether looming low or hovering high overhead, each specially selected shade supports the character and charm of this sentimental sandwich shop.

It is clear that character is at the core of the design of this shop, which requires the “curator” to make careful choices regarding what collectibles will cultivate the most curiosity. The amount of time and degree of attention put into the design of this dining establishment, in an effort to positively impact the experience of the customer, reflects directly on the product. The purveyor of Potbelly prioritizes people, insists on individuality, and, in so doing, communicates quality.

Guide or Gawk?

After savoring some time (and sandwiches) in two local sandwich shops, the impact of interior design and architecture became increasingly apparent. As I entered each retail space and analyzed how design affected my experience, I was most intrigued by the effect on my eyes - guide versus gawk.

In Subway, I found that my eyes were guided along a fairly defined line. Consistent with the lines of a Subway system (as seen on maps mounted on the shop’s walls), my sight and subsequently my movement were controlled. Certainly this was something sensed subconsciously in previous visits, which made the realization that much more remarkable. I was amazed at how customers are “compelled” to conform.

In Potbelly, my eyes moved in a more manic manner, gawking at all the artifacts on the walls. Cultivated by the quirky curios, my curiosity “compelled” me to connect with the cuisine. As I moved through this museum, my mouth watered and my mind wondered, but I still wandered in the way that was intended.

In thinking about these different designs and their ability to direct the eye and actions of individuals, I started to think about how a similar phenomenon manifests in the classroom. While not always a matter of manipulating eye movement, visual, verbal, and intellectual guiding and gawking occur. The question is, which is more constructive, and ultimately most compelling?

Inevitably, educators guide students through a step-by-step study of subjects in an effort to meet standards set out by states or school districts. Ought this be the case? Teachers and students are “compelled to conform,” but is the educational experience compelling? Is it memorable? Is it meaningful? It is more than merely a means to an educational (not edible) end?

There are those teachers, though, who not only allow but also encourage students to gawk. Ideas are introduced, investigations are launched, and inquiring minds engage in discussion and debate. Diversity is deemed “delicious,” and the interests of individuals are ingested. As students feast on facts (and fiction), the interactions between the individuals and ideas provide substantive sustenance. Students are compelled to consume and construct and question and continue on. Neither the path nor the product is predictable, but the flavor of the experience is full and the quality unquestionable. Does this constitute compelling?

Ought we guide students or encourage them to gawk?

Constructing a Compelling Classroom

On a more literal level, this week’s assignment, discussion, and readings caused me to think back to a class I took last semester (CEP 842 – Instruction in Inclusive Classrooms). I was reminded of the unit on assistive technology, which included readings and a discussion about the impact of various physical elements of a classroom environment on learning. Furniture, lighting (windows & fixtures), color (wall, paper, etc), textures, and scents all entered into the discussion. It was a very en-light-ening lesson.

Of course, when we design our homes, we want places that are inviting and create what Susanka calls a “sense of shelter” (Susanka, 2004: 13). Children / Students, though, spend almost as many waking hours in a classroom as they do at home, and the physical learning environment ought to “compel” them to come in and cause them to feel both safe and intellectually stimulated.

Whenever I move in to a new classroom or set up a room at the outset of the year, I cannot even begin to think about what I am going to teach until I have the physical classroom environment established. As I look ahead to next year, I need to think more carefully about, not only what is conducive but also what is compelling.

A few “food for thought” articles to archive:

McCreey, J. and Hill, T. (2005). Illuminating the classroom environment. School Planning and Management. Retrieved from: http://www.peterli.com/spm/resources/articles/archive.php?article_id=850

Saulny, S. (2009). Students stand when called upon, and when not. The New York Times. Retrieved from: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/25/us/25desks.html

Thompson, S. (2003). Color in education. School Planning and Management. Retrieved from: http://www.peterli.com/spm/resources/articles/archive.php?article_id=551

Wyatt, K. (2009). No chairs: Students ‘get the wiggles out’ on exercise balls. USA Today. Retrieved from: http://www.usatoday.com/news/education/2009-03-07-class-chairs_N.htm

The Compelling Nature of Cohesiveness

As I combed through the readings this week, cohesiveness came to the fore as one of the most compelling aspects of architecture and interior design. This concept was particularly powerful in the pictures provided by Sarah Susanka. In Susanka’s vernacular, cohesiveness probably would be best described in the “themes and variations” section of her writings. As I continued to peruse the pictures and ponder these considerations related to creating a home, the following paragraphs from two different readings began to build a bridge…

“New Design Language”
One final concept you should keep in mind as you create your own Not So Big House is developing a theme and variations throughout the design. Every house in this book employs this concept, and it's what gives each its integrity and at least some of its personality. If you want a house to have unique characteristics that make it more than just an assemblage of spaces, you can adopt a few special shapes or materials that are repeated throughout the house. If this is done heavy handedly, it will look clunky or will make you think "Enough already." If you've ever seen a house with an octagonal window in almost every room, you'll know what I mean. But when used thoughtfully, a house with a theme and variations is like a well-composed piece of music. From one movement to the next, you know it's the same piece because themes will return as it proceeds, though never repeated exactly as before. (Susanka, 2007)

“Home By Design”
So it's a house that has a Theme and Variations. Most houses are lacking features like these that tell you, as you move from room to room, that they are all parts of a singular whole. But a house that's a Home by Design has some underlying organizational features that help identify it as all one thing, no matter where you are in the house. (Susanka, 2004: 9)


As I did with Rockwell’s writing on photography, I took time to highlight and alter a few words of these topic-specific texts in an effort to transform it into something tangible for teachers.


“New Lesson Language”
One final concept you should keep in mind as you create your own NOT SO BORING LEARNING EXPERIENCE is developing a theme and variations throughout the DELIVERY. Every UNIT in this book employs this concept, and it's what gives each its integrity and at least some of its personality. If you want a LEARNING EXPERIENCE to have unique characteristics that make it more than just AN ASSEMBLAGE OF ISOLATED LESSONS, you can adopt a few special THEMES or IDEAS that are repeated throughout the LEARNING EXPERIENCE. If this is done heavy handedly, it will FEEL FORCED / ARTIFICIAL or will make you think "Enough already." If you've ever seen a LEARNING EXPERIENCE with a GIMMICK in almost every LESSON, you'll know what I mean. But when used thoughtfully, a LEARNING EXPERIENCE

“Learning Experience by Design”
So it's a LEARNING EXPERIENCE that has a Theme and Variations. Most LEARNING EXPERIENCES are lacking features like these that tell you, as you move from LESSON TO LESSON, that they are all parts of a singular whole. But a LEARNING EXPERIENCE that's a LEARNING EXPERIENCE by Design has some underlying organizational features that help identify it as all one thing, no matter where you are in the SCHOOL YEAR.

Adapted from the writings of Sarah Susanka.


As educators engage in the work of curriculum design in preparation for instruction, I think it would behoove us all to take time to identify authentic intra- and interdisciplinary themes and to consider the various ways these themes could be introduced to, identified by, and investigated with students. As students consider the connections within and between subject areas, I suspect they would be compelled to further broaden and deepen their learning experience.

I think an attempt at designing such learning experiences has been made through the “essential question” approach, but I think more can be done to help students connect to their learning and compel them to continue.

Definitely something to consider…

Cozy and Comfortable, Comptemporary Yet Quaint

Week 6 - Discussion Post (also on FB)

I remember vividly the first time I walked through the door and experiencing “the indefinable something” (Susanka, 2004: 5) of which Sarah Susanka speaks. In an effort to try to put my finger on what it was that drew me in and helped me feel at home, I decided to revisit one of my favorite restaurants. The first descriptors that come to mind are cozy and comfortable, contemporary yet quaint. In her interview with Diane Rehm, Susanka says, “Cozy is also a euphemism for too small” (Rehm, 2001). For me, though, “cozy” connotes warmth and that “sense of shelter” (Susanka, 2004: 13), which, in this restaurant, was created, in part, by painting the walls with a wonderfully warm golden hue. This color cascaded into the room, where it was worked in to the color of the tablecloths. It was as if we were surrounded by sunshine. Despite the height of the room (I estimate at least 12 feet) and what could be considered a very rigid and restricting rectangular shape, a very intimate feeling was created. Four tall, narrow windows (two on each of two adjacent walls) allowed natural light to filter in through simple sheer curtains. These were wrapped in the warm embrace of deep, rich burgundy window treatments, which tied in to the color of the painted and glass-paned door. The tall windows whisked my eyes upward, where tin ceiling panels (featured in the photo) contributed to the character of the room.




These dark and textured tiles above, a reflection of the dark, textured timbers (hardwood floors) below, brought the ceiling closer. This example of “visual weight” (Susanka, 2007) contributed to the “cozy” quality.

As I left the room and walked down the hall to the front door, I decided to turn around and take one last look, at which point I recognized that “Light to Walk Toward” (Rehm, 2001; Susanka, 2004: 12). From the front door, my eye had been welcomed by the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. One of those tall windows had been the undetected draw from the front door. In addition, I noticed that the door to the room was framed with a wide, white molding. With one last glance into the room, I realized this same molding framed a discrete door into the kitchen. In both cases, the frame definitely signaled entry into “a new place” and served as “a gateway” (Susanka, 2007), guiding me from the “harsh” outdoors to the hall to a “home” away from home.

Look up! Linger... Listen. And, learn... for a lifetime.

While I am not really what one would consider a football fan (and after having lived overseas that includes what we on this side of the world call soccer), but in my life I have tuned in to a game or two and get the general gist of the game. Prior to Super Bowl weekend this year, I have had only two memorable football-watching moments in my life. One year, many years ago, I plopped myself in front of the TV and barraged myself with college “Bowl” games. And, my first year in Kabul, we were able to get a live satellite connection of a game, which caused dozens of expatriates to gather in the basement of one of our team houses in the middle of the night and savor the sport and enjoy the camaraderie of one another). These were obviously very different experiences – one I watched completely alone, the other I was one witness of many with the complete Super Bowl celebration.

This year, I will probably chalk up as a third fabulous football experience, the first (and maybe the last) I will share with my husband, who is not a football fan either. We tuned in this year, though, not because of the competition but because of the commercials. As it happened, the game was great and worth watching, but the commercials were our (well, mostly my) primary focus.

Seated on the sofa, I sought something that stirred me, something that not only caught my eye but also kept it. There were several commercials that made me look at my husband and go, “Hmmmm…??” but few caused me to connect intellectually or emotionally, two qualities I believe are crucial in order to call something compelling. The only ones that came close for me were the Volkswagen “Punch Dub” commercial and the Budweiser Clydesdale “Fences” commercial (Note: I erroneously referred to this commercial as “Clydesdale Training” in my FB post, but… that commercial from 2008 was “compelling,” too).

As I went back and watched, it was interesting for me to see that the cinematic styles of these two commercials were quite different. The Volkswagen commercial was fast paced, which quick, sharp transitions from frame to frame and back and forth between the product and faces. The music was light and airy with the whir of passing cars causing me to look up from my computer (I was multi-tasking for most of the game, composing posts and trying to get a start on my video). Of course, when it became evident that the commercial was a cross-section or the cars and communities and “kids” of all ages playing the PunchDub game, I couldn’t help but smile. I thought it was a clever way to connect with… everyone. Who hasn’t played that game at one time or another? At this point, of course, sentiment entered in.

Sentiment was a key factor in the Budweiser Clydesdale “Fences” commercial, as well, capitalizing on the power of friendship. Unlike the VW commercial, though, sentiment and story were conveyed in slow, scenic cuts. Whimsical music and animal sounds were again the initial attention getters, with an equally effective result. I was forced to look up and watch.

How do we get our students to do the same? What will make them look up and listen? In thinking about this, I am reminded of one of my former colleagues, one of the most exuberant individuals I have ever met. As assemblies, with one single word, he could capture the attention of an entire audience of kids (grades 4-6), and keep them transfixed for a good 20 minutes. While assemblies tended to be focused on character development, he would find a way to illuminate the character trait of the month in the minds of the students by shining a spotlight on an historical individual. He would then weave a story so wonderful that all, students and teachers, would be hanging on every word. After a few minutes, we would forget we were learning, but by the end we would walk away with a character trait, a context, and a curiosity to learn more about the man, woman, or event described in detail. These were compelling experiences.

In order to design a compelling experience, we must attend to the elements that cause us and our students to:

Look up!

Linger…

Listen.

And… learn… for a lifetime!

Merely Memorable… or Moving?

This week, I (and my classmates) was charged with viewing an arguably compelling clip from the movie, “My Best Friend’s Wedding.” The ensuing discussion caused the following question to be raised in my mind:

Does something that is compelling HAVE to be memorable? Is something that is memorable ALWAYS compelling?

For some, the answers were yes and yes. For me, the answer is… I’m not so sure.

As I wrestled with these questions, I tried to think back on movie- or television-viewing experiences that I consider memorable, but not necessarily compelling. Due to my viewing preferences, I discovered that I could classify a number of comedies and / or “chick” flicks in the memorable category (Ex. “Hitch,” “Runaway Bride,” “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” “27 Dresses,” “Strange Brew,” “The Spy Who Shagged Me”), but, while I remember specific scenes and sometimes even a line or two, most of these were not even close to what I would consider compelling. In many cases, these and other similar movies are some of the first flicks chosen for an evening of mindless (and repeat) movie viewing, but the evening will not be moving or meaning-filled. It is these latter descriptors that, in my mind, propel a “picture-show” into the realm of the profound. “Steel Magnolias” and “The Notebook,” on the other hand, are movies that caused me to think and reflect. They were moving and meaning-filled. They were more than memorable. These are movies I would call compelling.

What’s the difference? Many would simply lump “Steel Magnolias” and “The Notebook” in with the rest of the “chick” flicks / tear-jerkers, but I would argue that they do stand out. Why? All the movies have a story, so that can’t set them apart, or can it? According to Katalina Groh, story and storytelling is a defining element of film. So, what aspect of story creates an experience that is compelling? Groh says, “These stories [stories that celebrate transformation, change, and learning] create new kinds of conversation and experiences. Most of all, these stories invite us to reflect, learn, and experience the lesson precisely because they make us think about our own stories” (Groh, 2001).

How does this translate to a classroom? Memorization of multiplication facts is a classic example of an educational experience I would obviously consider memorable, but, in most cases, is not compelling. Anyone who has passed through second or third grade can remember when and often how he / she learned the “time tables”. In most cases, though, very little meaning is attached to the flashcards, Mad Minutes, and mindless recall of math facts. Few kids (or teachers for that matter) can converse about connections between the facts or discuss how division and / or addition are related. Patterns within and / or reasoning behind the math of multiplication are rarely reviewed. While some might say that there isn’t much more to math that the memorization of facts and application of rules, when reasoning and reflection replace rote, students can and will “celebrate transformation, change, and learning.”

So, whether it is a movie or math, a “story” with substance is at the crux of what compels.

A Cutting Room / Classroom Comparison

"Although editors develop their own preferences, which they may repeat from film to film and which seem to constitute unique styles, how much really is 'individual' and how much is due to the director's own style and what the film itself requires?" (Oldham, 1995: 188)

While many of us in the classroom might consider ourselves directors, I would argue that teachers are instead editors, subject to the directors' demands. Connecting with Oldham's quote, teachers, like editors, develop pedagogical preferences, instructional patterns that they carry from classroom to classroom. Rules and routines, scope and sequence selections, themes and motifs, lesson delivery and assessments are just some of the elements of education subject to the style of the editor (educator) in charge. Of course, some of those choices are influenced by the producers (federal, state, or district officials), who not only hold the purse strings but also play a role in personnel procurement, placement, and supervision.

Who really makes the decisions, though? Or, perhaps a better question to ask, whose style dictates decision making? In our classrooms, I think the students are the directors. It is their "style" that must be satisfied. As the teacher edits, tailoring the educational experience, it is the requirements raised by students' individual needs that tend to be taken into account.

I think it is these student-directed experiences or experiences edited for the edification of the "director" that are most compelling. When the oratory, optical options, and open-ended opportunities are carefully orchestrated the experience is elevated from ordinary to Oscar quality.

Common, Yet Compelling

This week, I have the privilege of welcoming Ken Rockwell into my home. Well... not literally, but as I set about reading his article, I felt as if I was engaged in a casual conversation over a cup of tea. Of course, he set out sharing about his passion for photography, but I thought the article was amazingly applicable to education.

What would happen if, in the introduction, references to photography were changed to education? Would it make sense?

"EDUCATION is the power of observation, not the application of technology." Leslee Rupp

How have I made my best LEARNING MOMENTS? By noticing something cool and TEACHING THE TOPIC. The important part is noticing something cool. TEACHING THE TOPIC is easy.

Your TEXTBOOK has nothing to do with making great LEARNING MOMENTS. you have to master technique (AND CONTENT), of course, but that's just a burden to get out of the way to free yourself to tackle the really hard part. The hard part is saying something with your CONTENT.

EDUCATION is art. It's abstract. Therefore it's difficult for many people to grasp. It's easy and lazy to think a TEXTBOOK makes the LEARNING MOMENT. It's easy to blame bad LEARNING MOMENTS on a TEXTBOOK. When you get better you'll realize you would have been better off to pay more attention to your STUDENTS and less to your TEXTBOOK.

Adapted from Ken Rockwell's website http://www.kenrockwell.com/tech/howto.htm

Perhaps it's a bit of a stretch, but... I think many of us do rely on texts and technology and technique when teaching rather than studying our students and seizing teachable moments that will excite and endure.

The notion of excitement is one Rockwell raised when he stated, "Photography is communicating passion and sparking excitement in te mind and body of another person." Once again, I think EDUCATION could be appropriately substituted in this sentence. This is certainly one of the greatest challenges teachers face, but how can we communicate passion to and spark excitement in our students? Even more, how can we identify passions and tap into the excitement of our students? Is this not a responsibility we bear? I don't recall seeing that class listed in the required course list for my teacher education program, though. Do you know a sure-fire strategy for accomplishing that in our classrooms? Or, ought we continue to follow the advice of Rockwell and, "Forget Technique!" "Follow Your Own Vision!" "See Don't Just Look!" "Convey Your Feelings!" and "Ask Not Why Something Is Here, But How To Make It Meaningful!"? Will this make learning more compelling?

And, what about the statement, "Brilliance doesn't work on a schedule." How often do we hear that certain subjects must be addressed within a certain time frame in order to "cover the curriculum"? Where is the wonderment in that? Brilliance doesn't even have time to begin never mind shine.

From Walls to Windows

Photography Module Project - Still Images (also on FB)



This is one of the first photos taken as my physical and photographic journey began. In taking this photo, my goal was simply to get a glimpse of the wall as it worked its way up the mountain. Rough and rugged, the wall resembles the rock on which it rests. From this angle, it appears that the wall is an extension of the mountain, rising up from the earth below. An indirect shot of this subject also accentuated some of the wavy lines that form the top of the mountain and then the top of the wall. I liked how they seemed to weave into one another. The mountain, largest on the left, diminished gradually as it sloped down to the bottom right corner of the frame. The wall, largest on the right, gradually tapered off into the top of the mountain. Taking the shot facing up the slope gives the wall an appearance of grandeur and endlessness as it extends into the sky. In addition to capturing the wall, I also wanted to include the clouds, which pebbled the sky early this morning. I liked how the pattern in the sky almost reflected the pattern found in the wall. Even with elements of line, texture, angle, pattern, this image lacked intimacy and intrigue. Nancy Hill says, “A good photograph stirs up emotion” (Hill, 2010: 3), and both she and Gwyn Calvetti emphasize the element of storytelling (Hill, 2010: 3; Calvetti, 2006: 4), which increases the potential of a picture from mundane to memorable. In the end, I concluded that this image is very common and sought something more compelling. I continued to climb.


As I moved up the mountain, I continued to capture pictures of the wall, with angles, lighting, and emotion in mind. On this hill, as I looked down on a still-sleeping city, I thought about the hardship and heartache experienced by so many, and I start to hunt for hope. My emotional perspective impacted my photographic perspective. I had been walled in by the wall before me, but now I was able to see a world beyond this barrier. Windows opened up everywhere, literally and figuratively speaking.

With windows as my frame, shape played a significant role in the shot. Lighting and shadows on the windows’ sills also affected the sentiment of the shot. With my field of vision narrowed substantially, though, I now had to focus more closely how hope was going to be communicated by looking beyond the wall. With the landscape littered with hills, slopes were a sure thing. Some shots centered the slopes, while others skimmed the tops with sky snatching up the bulk of the frame.

In the end, I stumbled upon a scene that I thought to be stunning. In the final shot, several sets of hills can be seen in fading succession, creating a crisscrossed corridor to the horizon line. In addition, a light layer of cloud shrouds the land, providing an intimate and intriguing illumination, qualities lacking in the first shot. To me, these elements work together to symbolize hope. While the journey is sometimes long and hard, and obstacles are sure to get in the way, hope hovers on the horizon.

As I worked with this final image, I applied a black and white effect, which I think helps focus on the shapes and shadows and sentiment. I also cropped the image, removing a large piece of the wall from the left side of the frame. Taking up a third of the picture, this dark portion of wall detracted from the picture seen through this peculiar portal. I cropped a couple times until an almost-square shot proved satisfactory. Finally, I applied an edge blur effect to the shot, which darkened the very outer edges slightly and seemed to bring the background blur a little closer… bringing that hope, which hovers on the horizon, within reach.

From Walls to Windows: A Compelling Climb

Photography Module Project - Video (also on FB)




Transcript

For the last three years, I had the privilege of living and working in Kabul, Afghanistan. While the mention of this place might bring to mind words like harshness, hostility, and hurt, Kabul, a place I once called home, generates in me a sense of history and hospitality and… hope. For many who live in this place, though, hope is hard to come by.

Early one morning, my colleagues and I ventured out from behind our compound walls in order to experience the freedom and fresh air found atop a rugged “rock” that rises from the center of the city. While many appreciated the opportunity this outing provided to exercise and explore, this climb compelled me to contemplate. In turn, contemplation compelled me to climb.

One of the interesting features of this mountain is a wall that runs along its crest. Captivated by its construction, I eagerly eyed the wall from various angles, anxious to snap a few shots that hopefully captured the crudeness and contrasts in its contents and configuration. As I continued to climb and compose, I came across cracks and crevices and corners that caused me to consider that which was beyond the barrier before me. At this point, I realized there was more to this scene than a few sticks and stones. This was not merely a mass of mud and mortar, but a medium through which to achieve greater meaning. The symbolism was staggering.

In a country ravaged by war for over 30 years, it is easy to understand why walls, literal and figurative, surround homes and hearts everywhere. As I studied the structure before me, I began to realize that this wall, designed to divide, could potentially draw together. Put up to protect, this wall had places through which to peer and, thus, was not impenetrable. This wall had windows, which compels on to ask... what lies beyond?

As my attention turned from the wall to the windows, focus and frames, balance and boundaries, shapes and shadows, lines and landscapes, came to the fore. Which window would warrant wonder? Which terrain would tell the greatest tale? Which picture would provoke one to ponder? Which sight would stir the soul? Playing with perspective, dappling with depth of field, and floundering to find a frame (and final photo) that evoked strong feelings was both fabulous and frustrating, but what is found in the final photo?

In the end, hope is what was heralded from the mountaintop. Hope on the horizon is what I attempted to capture and communicate in this final image.

A Glance at a Gerbera

Week 3 - Discussion Post (also on FB)



With this week’s assignment in mind, I decided to experiment with a bouquet of flowers that a friend brought last weekend. Since flowers are one of my absolute favorite subjects to snap, I enjoyed playing around with this particular bouquet. At first, I approached the subject in its entirety. I took pictures of the vase AND flowers from various angles, with inside and outside lighting, flash and no flash. The outside lightning was preferred. I then narrowed the field of focus so that sets of two or three flowers were included in the frame. Again, angles and lighting were a primary concern. Each time I shot a grouping of flowers, one served as the primary focal point, while the others, usually of contrasting colors or textures, filled in the background. Additionally, I tried to capture the center of the focal flower, focusing on the stamen / pistil, particularly if they were uniquely shaped or positioned. Still not captivated, I zoomed in further on a Gerbera daisy, which seemed to be the feature flower of the bouquet. At this point, I employed the help of some of my camera’s features including the close up button and the timer. I have found the timer especially helpful when photographing flowers (and other subjects) close up, as it helps eliminate any movement associated with the pressing the shutter-release button. With the timer, I managed to get a clear shot of the flower, which filled the entire frame. The center of the flower was slightly offset, which I wanted to accentuate in the editing phase. In an effort to further offset the center of the flower, I chose to crop the photo. This put the center in the bottom left hand corner of the photo frame. I am tempted to crop a bit more off the bottom of the photo, but I like the almost-square shape of the photo. Using iPhoto, I applied the black and white effect. I was surprised by how removing the color drew out the contrasting textures of the flower’s center and petals. The black and white effect also added a sense of depth / dimension that I did not sense when the photo was in full color. I like how the dark center of the flower ties in with the sporadic dark spaces near the edge of the photo (bottom left & top right). When in full color, the dark portions are actually different (potentially distracting) colors, but in black and white, there is a subtle sense of unity. It is this sense of unity I cherish as I think that this flower originated as a gift from a dear friend with whom I was able to reminisce over lunch.

The original image

Vertical Lines in Venice

Week 3 - Discussion Post (also on FB)




While I certainly do not consider myself a photographer, I do love to take photos and have a vast archive of snaps. Contrary to the advice of Ken Rockwell (from one of our readings), I keep EVERYTHING. He is right, though, when he says, “Most of what I shoot is…” (Rockwell, 2008: 13), well, let’s just say, not-so compelling. Despite encouragement to “create a new photo from scratch,” I really wanted to go through my collection and examine sets of photos I’ve taken that have become progressively artful. I managed to find a set I thought demonstrated the process fairly well. The set I chose was taken during a trip to Venice, Italy. From there, I proceeded to edit the final image using iPhoto.

After reading through the articles and reflecting on my approach to photography, I realized that I tend to follow the Rule of Thirds fairly religiously, although, I usually only attend to the vertical divisions. With the camera I have, I always center the subject to get it in focus, and then I shift to the right or left to offset the main subject or some other element of the photo. In this photo, I wanted the sun in the background to be offset, a decision I made consciously. As it happens, though, the horizontal thirds seem to play a bigger role, something I noticed in the editing phase. Initially, the horizontal divisions included sky (top), background buildings (middle), and gondolas (bottom). In an effort to place greater emphasis on the gondolas, I cropped the photo, reducing the amount of sky and elongating the look of the photo. Now, the main subject (the gondolas) takes up the bottom two thirds of the photo. Lines are also an important consideration. I tend to be drawn to diagonal lines, which, in this case, were found in how the gondolas and posts were lined up. In addition, the pier / dock create diagonal lines in the mid-ground of the photo. This element of the photo also creates somewhat of a natural frame for the gondolas, something else I purposefully seek out when I look through the lens. In this case, though, that might be one element of the photo that is either distracting or adds clutter. If I was to take this photo again, I might try to take it from an angle that minimizes the presence of the pier / dock. One other element of the photo that I worked hard to incorporate was the lightning. The very first photo taken at this venue was with my back to the light, which illuminated the gondolas and boosted the overall color of the photo. I wanted to take advantage of the fact that the light was low in the sky, though, so I turned around and shot into the sun. This created a silhouetting effect and also allowed me to capture the sun and its reflection off the water. This detail factored strongly in to my editing decisions.

In the editing phase, the first thing I did was apply the black and white effect to the photo. I didn’t like this, so I reverted back to the original photo and moved on to cropping (as described earlier). Once cropped, I tried to apply the black and white effect again. It was a little more palatable with the cropped photo, but I wasn’t satisfied. I tried a few other effects before arriving at “antique,” which is seemingly a more-subtle version of sepia. I thought this accentuated the overall mood of the photo and the element of lighting. With a warmer look, I then began to play with the exposure and contrast levels. I thought the image was a bit dark and attempted to bring more light to it. I liked the golden tone and the way the sun’s rays became more visible and distinct, but too many details in the gondolas were illuminated, which was not what I was looking for. In the end, I reverted back to the original settings, which highlighted the warm, shadowy subjects and the silhouettes in the background.

This entire set of photos shows how the pictures changed.

Wave Riders

In analyzing the two photos this week, I couldn’t help but think about the waves of wonder that well up in my classroom. I was forced to ask, “What do those waves look like?”, “Where are they taking me and my students?”, “How can I help make the most of the ride?”

Sometimes the crests of curiosity carry the rider calmly across the curriculum. There is little need for courage as students rarely collide with the content in a meaningful way. These placid peaks propel the pupils along without providing them with a “righteous ride”. What must I do to help stir up the seas and show students that they must not only show off skills, but strive to be stretched? What must I do to shape the swell in a way that causes the surfer to thrive, not merely float along without any passion?

Then, there is the surf that surges with scholastic strength. As it smashes into the shore, the spray soars high into the air creating a stunning sparkle in the sky. This is a surfer’s dream! Only the deft dare to take on the treacherous tower of water that looms large. As students ride the raging waves, what must I do to help them maneuver and maintain momentum, without succumbing to the surge? What must be done to help them overcome and not be overwhelmed? In addition, what must be done to help develop will and not just an appetite for the thrill?

Whether flat or fierce, those waves of wonder must be watched. As the shape, strength, and speed are studied and the surf subsequently seized, depth and dexterity will develop.