My Week as an Elementary Art Instructor

"It's Elementary, My Dear Picasso"
            With nation-wide cuts in art programs and staffing, many public schools are finding new ways to bring art education/enrichment to their students.   During my extraordinary experience as an Artist-in-Residence/ Guest Instructor at Tongue River Elementary School (made possible by a local family's financial gift), I taught acrylic painting to over 200 K-5th graders, as well as at their after-school program.  My previous experiences teaching art to kids motivated me to create a lesson where they'd use their imaginations while learning the basic elements of art.  My objective was to show that they are all artists, and to help them find joy in painting what they imagine.
             I began each class by asking, "How many of you are artists?"  Nearly every K-1st grader raised their hands, but as the students got older, fewer claimed to be artists.  In the oldest classes, some pointed to another student or said, "Not me." 
              I demonstrated the assignment by painting two random organic shapes.  I asked what they could become, and the students always knew- calling out creatures so varied as "unicorn!" "duck!" "cat!" and "dragon!" all at the same time!  I obliged, sometimes by choosing the most outlandish suggestion, and adding lines to make it come true.  Sometimes we rotated the canvas to find the subject.  Once, two shapes that clearly resembled a cow to me (imagine that) became a brontosaurus with a very long tail after a student called out "dinosaur!" My point was to get them to use their imagination to create something out of two "nothings."  We weren't striving for realism, but creativity.  The students painted their shapes, turned them into their subject, and I spoke about line, color, value, form and negative space as we filled them in.
            The younger grades dove in with gusto, creating from their shapes charming creatures with vivid colors and expressions.  Quick, forty-minute class periods led to spontaneous, lively paintings.  Some of the older students were hesitant to make shapes that had no predestined purpose.  They'd ask, "But what should I make?" before they'd even made the random shapes.  Like adults, they were loath to paint without specific instruction- fearing that what they made would be wrong.   

 
            One boy was having trouble with the second (body) shape for the "Golden Retriever" head he'd painted (note he had a specific plan before painting the shapes).  I encouraged him to turn his canvas vertically and paint a big triangle as the body, then go from there, adding that the big body would make it interesting, and "interesting is better than perfect" (thank you, friend and drawing instructor, Kathy Sabine).  At the end of class, he beamed as he showed me his delightful dog painting (right).  By turning the canvas, the boy let go of his predetermined strategy.   He was pleased with the unexpected results & with his ability to use his imagination to make something new.  
            This method led to dynamic poses and shapes of the subjects, rather than the old generic "animal" we've all drawn: a profile of variously-sized sausage links representing the head, body and legs of any creature- determinable by the ears and tail as to its species. 

            We start kids with watercolor because it's: inexpensive, compact, quick to set up/clean up, washes out of clothing, and the paint is reconstituted with water, so there's little waste.  However, watercolor is an unforgiving medium.  Acrylic is more expensive, harder to set up/clean up (I couldn't have done it without the art teacher, Mrs. Wildberger's help), can ruin clothing and paintbrushes, and is not reconstituted with water, but acrylic allows a beginner to explore.  There's no "mistake" that they can't paint over.  Acrylic is the key to the success of these classes because it takes away the fear of ruining a painting with one false move. 

           
       

            It warmed my heart to see the pride on students' faces as they showed me their finished pieces.   Though I saw beauty in each of the over 250 paintings, which are currently on display at the school, I estimated the success of each work by its creator's satisfaction, as that was my goal.  Over and over I heard, "This is the best painting I ever did!"  Kids complimented each other on their paintings, reinforcing the experience. 

            One group did not display elation over their creations- a small class whose teacher asked me to guide them all in painting a specific scene.   I proceeded with caution; although this "step-by-step" stuff is exactly what adults who come to my Uncorked workshops seek, students can be hampered by exercises like this, as rather than expressing their own ideas, they will be worried about making it exactly like the sample.   In the end, the teacher was happy with her beautiful painting; the "class artist" was somewhat pleased, and the three remaining students were disappointed, even though theirs were most interesting, having art elements I've seen on the walls at MoMA.  Hung up on the fact that it didn't look like the demo, those students couldn't see the beauty in their abstracted shapes, brilliant colors and compositions, even after I'd pointed them out.  This experience reinforced the fact that adults and children approach learning art in completely different ways.  I will remember that. 

            A week of teaching art to over 200 kids turned into my learning a hundred new things, chief among them is that if we celebrate students' individuality and imagination while teaching the elements of art, we can foster their confidence, and buy them a few more years (or maybe a lifetime) of believing in their own artistic abilities and ideas.  Perhaps some of these kids will ignore the invisible "middle school memo" that says there's one "class artist," and they should stop creating.  Maybe one day, adults won't have to come to 2-hour workshops to recapture what they lost decades ago-the confidence and freedom to express themselves with paint.   Till that day comes, I'm pleased to keep reminding them!

Sonja Caywood ©2014