February 9, 2007

Robin E. Brooks

Teaching journal

 

I had two “a ha” moments that speak to “Image of the Child” during my art classes this week. 

 

“A ha” Number One: “Just a Rock”

The first moment occurred while I was passing out clay work to the first grade children.  With clay, the decision about whether or not to keep what the children make is often up to the teacher.  In the initial sessions, we often try to encourage children to learn about the material and not to keep everything they make.  In this way, children grow to understand the material and its possibilities rather than rushing to put something together. 

 

Our project as a class was to create a group sculpture—a neighborhood—from self hardening clay.  Each child made parts of their neighborhood, from houses, to roads, to a school bus, in clay.  At first, we did a lot of brainstorming about neighborhoods.  I charted many items they came up with that can be found in a neighborhood. 

 

After the clay session, a girl came up to me with a clay “rock” she wanted to save.  Now, to my eyes, this rock appeared to be no more than a lump of clay…  I was skeptical about saving this piece, but because the child who handed it to me was a little girl who often lacked confidence, I decided to save it.  This week in art class, she was excited to paint her rock.  After it was painted, she called me over and told me a long story about how there was this rock in her neighborhood that she loved to climb on and which led to a backyard adventure.  It was such a rich and vivid story that I knew the rock, and her backyard experiences, were really important to her.  It was a lesson for me in trusting children.  I was also touched that this lesson had given her a chance to remember an experience in which she felt powerful and adventurous. 

 

 Clay Neighborhood--A Grade 1 Group Sculpture

“A Ha” Number two: “Drawing for our whole lives”

 

      The other “a ha” came when my other first grade class came bursting into the art room this morning, full of big physical energy.  While I tried to settle the children who were literally running circles around the art tables, a boy who has always been reluctant to draw asked if he could go get something in his classroom that he had brought from home to draw from.  He is a child I have been working closely with over the past year and a half since I started teaching at this school.  I sent him back to class across the hallway and he returned with an armful of plastic world wrestling figurines.  To draw these figurines, with their bulging muscles and fierce grimaces would be quite a challenge even for a confident artist. but decided to encourage him to try anyway.  His friend wanted to draw, too.  Now this was not my lesson of the day, but neither boy cared to paint their clay work, so I was happy to see them drawing. 

 

     The trusting relationships we have established formed the foundation for the experience I am about to relate.  The two boys—I will call them James and Tom– were game to try drawing the wrestling figurines.  I instructed the boys to begin by looking closely at the figurines.   From there, I explained that one way to get started was to draw a skeleton of sorts and proceeded to demonstrate on a separate paper, drawing out a stick figure that mimicked the forms of the wrestler.  The two boys watched with fascination as I elaborated the stick figure, adding contours, muscles, and other details they could recognize.  They were duly impressed.  “How did you learn to draw so well, Ms. Brooks,” they asked?  I explained how I studied drawing in college and have spent many hours practicing my drawing.   I explained that I have been drawing for practically my whole life.

 

     At this point, I encouraged Tom and James to try drawing their own figures.  While I sketched out a second wrestling figure for Tom, James started to color in my sketch with colored pencils.  “We’re collaborating on this drawing, James” I explained.  By giving him permission to add to my drawing, James was able to gain confidence in his drawing ability.  I wanted him to experience the pleasure of creating a figure he could recognize, something that would have been difficult for him to do on his own.  I made it safe for him to add to the drawing I had begun. 

 

     Now I drew a second rough skeleton for Tom and he colored in the details.  “I’m drawing!” he declared.  After drawing for a little while, both boys stated boldly that they were going to “draw for their whole lives”.  I felt gratified that the scaffolding I had done was rewarded with the first child, and hopefully the second one too gaining confidence in the pleasure and power of drawing human figures.  How do you spell wrestling,” asked James?  He decided he wanted to make a book of his sketches.  A few staples later, James and Tom returned to their first grade classroom with books entitled “Wrestling Sketches by…” and a new sense of courage and willingness to take on a challenge.

 

      The boys were able to learn a difficult lesson in drawing without putting themselves down in the process.  They trusted that I was imparting knowledge and skills, not drawing to make them feel inadequate.  This is where the answer to the question “Should I draw with children?” is clearly “It depends.”  It depends on your relationship with the children and it also depends on the child’s intention and your intention as the adult.  There are so many reasons and purposes for drawing.  I know that every artist has to start somewhere.  The motivation and drive to learn is more important than any perception of inborn talent or ability. 

 

Robin E. Brooks

February 12, 2007

 

 

Robin’s Introduction:  Some years ago, when my son Ben was small, I decided to propose a series of art classes for young children to be held at our local public library.  In each class I would read aloud a book to the children that introduced an artist, art concept, or process, and then they would explore materials in a hands-on art session.  The hour-long classes on Saturday mornings at the library proved to be a success and continued for several years. 

  

 

At some point during this experience, I decided to compile a list of my favorite children’s books about art into an annotated bibliography.  (There is a link to my annotated bibliography on the Workshops/Resource List page of my website):

 

http://www.robinbrooksart.com/index.php?content=workshops_resource_list#   

 

 The practice of listening to children is at the core of good teaching practice, which brings me to the story I am going to share.  

 

The other day I received an email note from an art teacher named Gayle who found my annotated bibliography while exploring teaching resources on line.  After a brief email exchange, Gayle related the following story to me about children’s author Byrd Baylor.  Byrd Baylor’s book When Clay Sings is one of the titles on my annotated bibliography.

 

This story speaks to the connections children make from their experience with books and their belief in all things as possible.  It also speaks to the author’s respect for life and for the early years when we are discovering the world around us and where every day is full of magic.  Robin Brooks

Gayle’s story about hearing Byrd Baylor at a reading conference in Arizona:

I first saw Byrd at a state reading conference in AZ.  It was held in Tucson, and she was one of the speakers. 

I learned that she lived outside of Tucson in a house with no electricity and no running water.  She used a well for water, and she said she would hang a wet piece of burlap in the doorway to cool the house.  When its 115 degrees, a wet piece of burlap is not going to cool the house very much!  She also said that if a rattlesnake went into her house, she would go out until it decided to leave.  Later she got a generator big enough to keep two light bulbs burning at night, and maybe a small refrigerator (I have forgotten, it’s been a while.)

 

The story I love is about a little boy she met one time when she went to visit his mother on an Indian reservation.  I don’t know what tribe they were, nor where the reservation was located.  (I wish you could hear this in her quiet voice.)  She arrived at the home of this family, and soon the boy was urgently asking her to go for a walk with him.  He was very insistent, so after a bit she went with him. They walked up a slope, and then the boy, with his face glowing, said ”Okay, teach me!”

 

Byrd said she was puzzled, and asked, “Teach you what?”

To which the boy said, “You know!  Teach me!”

 

She was thinking the boy was behaving sort of oddly, and was puzzled by his request.  She tried to convince him that she didn’t know what he meant.

 

With a gleam in his eye he said, “Teach me to fly!”

“Oh honey, I can’t teach you to fly,” she protested.

“Yes you can, teach me!”

“No, I mean, I don’t know how to fly, so I can’t teach you.”

 

When she convinced him that she could not teach him to fly, he was very disappointed, and said that he was sure that a woman named Byrd would be able to teach him to fly.

 

One of her books is about that little boy, and I think it is Amigo, but I’m not positive. Anyway, that’s the story.  I think she is very cool.  She learns about animals and the desert by being a very quiet and patient observer in the desert.

Gayle

Ps. Other books that are favorites about art are All I See, illustrated by Peter Catalanotto, and another is Luke’s Way of Seeing.

 

*Robin’s note:  Byrd Baylor’s book about a child who wishes to fly is called Hawk I’m Your Brother and I am using it in my art classroom this year to stimulate children to think about different perspectives, aerial views, and the ability to transform ourselves.  It is a wonderful poetic text with lovely black pen drawings by illustrator Peter Parnall. 

 

addendum: In our correspondence, Gayle Parent and I both agreed that we needed Byrd Baylor’s permission to share this story.  After writing to her, I received a handwritten note from Byrd Baylor. 

In her words, “…of course you can use the story.  Say Hello to Gayle for me.” 

Byrd Baylor  August 21, 2008. 

 

 

Drawing with Stones, Pebbles, and Rocks

 

Who among us has not stopped, on occasion, to pick up a stone in our path?  Drawn by the unusual color, shape, or delicate texture, we bend to touch this piece of mineral which has been altered by weather, wind, and water into its present form.  We turn it around in our hand, exploring it with all of our senses.

 

Teaching children to think like an artist. 

 

Artists are accustomed to transforming the ordinary into something extraordinary. Leo Lionni, the noted children’s illustrator and author, celebrates stones in his imaginative picture book titled On My Beach there are Many Pebbles.  Reading this book aloud to the children elicited much surprise and wonder.  “Those stones aren’t really real,” said more than one astute observer. How many of us have seen a whale stone, or one shaped as a cat, or the moon, or a silly face?  But then again…

 

This book challenged the children to look deeply at the stones with new eyes.  The art lesson called upon the children to use their own rich imaginations to transform these ordinary pebbles and rocks into their own visual surprise.

 

Getting Ready to Draw

I asked each child to choose several stones from a tray.  They were prompted to “Think, plan, and then draw.”  Children were encouraged to arrange the stones and then to trace around each stone with their pencil.  From that point on, they were free to embellish the drawing, adding details, colors, and a background, if needed.   

 

A Creative Drawing Lesson: Divergent Ends

“Drawing with Stones” is a lesson which encourages creative thinking and individual expression.   Each child must ask herself, “How will I use my stones?  Which stones shall I choose?  How will I arrange them?” “What else will I add to complete my picture?”   “What is my idea?”

 

When there is no model to copy, children must think for themselves.  On this display board are some of the children’s varied results from grades one through five.  Observe how one child placed their stones at the water’s edge while another chose to use their stones in an entirely different arrangement—to form a radial design—a flower, perhaps, or a sun.  Yet another child traced a long stone twice for the wings of a dragon, adding her own lines to tell the rest of the story.

 

Robin Brooks

Art, September 12, 2008

 

 

I decided to enter this show at the last minute, and spend the final day for submissions matting and framing two pieces.  Both pieces were juried into the show.  A few days before the opening, I was delighted to learn that Kitchen Vase was chosen for the “Best in Show” award.

(from the Art2008 show announcement)

Best in Show  awarded to Robin Brooks of Topsham for her collage entitled Kitchen Vase at Art2008, the annual juried show at the Harlow Gallery in Hallowell Maine this spring.  The Harlow Gallery www.harlowgallery.org is located at 180 Water Street in Hallowell, Maine. 

The juror’s comments:

Ted Arnold: “The first prize-winning piece shows how any subject matter at all, well handled, can commuicate a joy of creation and pleasure in small moments.”

Andrea Martens: “The successful handling of mixed media, layering, and experimentation of this work drew our attention from the outset of the process. Its bold colors and dynamic translucency were especially appealing.”

I have included a gallery of photos from the show, including one of my son Ben in front of Donald Kerr’s wire sculpture Sheldon, a delightful piece (and Honorable Mention) which we added to our own collection.

I will have two pieces that will be included in the upcoming “Water” exhibition at River Arts.  River Arts is located at 170 Main Street in Damariscotta, Maine and can be found on the web at www.riverartsme.org  Winter Storm, an oil on paper painting along with Water’s Edge, a 1992 acrylic on paper collage, will be included in juried show.  The juror, Michael Komanecky, is currently curator of the Farnsworth Museum in Rockland.  He eschewed more traditional seascapes for works that are less literal in their interpretation of the theme “Water.” The show will open on Friday August 29 with a reception from 5-7 pm.  The show runs from August 29 through October 17, 2008. 

Last night was the second Friday ARTWALK in Brunswick when artists open their studios to the public and galleries are open from 5 to 8 pm.  I displayed my work in oils, acrylic and collage from February through the summer.  I tacked my series of studies from the Androscoggin River looking out the studio windows.  These images depict the river from late winter through summer.  I also had my summer flower paintings on display.  Some visitors commented on the color in the still life images and many responded positively to my work in landscape collage.

I had about thirty visitors to the studio over the course of the evening.  They looked around at the work, snacked on the goodies I provided, and exclaimed over the roiling murky Androscoggin.  We’d had torrential rains that finally eased up in late afternoon and the river was flowing a murky brown, furious torrent.  Many visitors were mesmerized by the river view.    I was visited by ARTWALK man, a very cool young superhero donning his mask and cape.  Regretfully, I left my camera at home.

Oil on board, 2008

Oil on board, 2008

 I’ve been working in Marji Greenhut’s beautiful space in Fort Andross, the big red mill building on Maine Street in Brunswick.  I will be opening the studio for the Second Friday ArtWalk on August 8, 2008 from 5-7 pm.  Marji’s studio is on the second floor of the Fort Andross Mill.  Use the Flea Market entrance and walk up one flight of stairs. 

  I will be showing works in process including oil paintings of flowers and images of the Androscoggin River from late winter through summer as well as recent work in collage and monoprint. 
oil on panel, 2008

oil on panel, 2008

 

acrylic on paper, 2008

acrylic on paper, 2008

Photo from Friday’s opening of “Educate and Create: Maine Art Education Association Members’ Exhibition, Atrium Art Gallery, University of Southern Maine, Lewiston Auburn College, January 25-April 5, 2008. (Brian Peterson, photographer)