National Art Education Association

The Origins of Self-Expression: A Case of Self-DeceptionAuthor(s): Paul DuncumSource: Art Education, Vol. 35, No. 5 (Sep., 1982), pp. 32-35Published by: National Art Education AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3192633 .

Accessed: 14/06/2014 12:53

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

.

National Art Education Association is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to ArtEducation.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 188.72.127.191 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Paul Duncum

At a time when art educators are promoting a "hands on" approach to the teaching of

image-making, it is well to remember that the first and probably the most significant precursor of the "hands off" approach involved a blatant deception. Lest there should be any hesitation over the present trend, or any fainthearted backsliding, it is timely to note that the long dominant tradition of self-expression owes its origins to the Viennese art teacher Franz Cizek. At one stage art educa- tion was almost synonymous with the self-expressive approach, and insofar as this was originally based on Cizek's approach, art education always rested on a fundamental mistake. It was not a deliberate hoax, I hasten to add- merely the result of the very human frailty of saying one thing, but doing another. Cizek preached unfettered self-expression, but among his students he practiced a powerful, if subtle control. And yet if Cizek deceived himself, there were others, even those who went to see him at work in the classroom, who were as equally prepared to deceive themselves.

Cizek's Juvenile Art Class was based on the most succinct, if vague, of propositions: "To allow the children to grow, develop, and mature."1 It was established in Hamburg in 1903, and during the following thirty-five years, until it was closed by the Nazis, it proved to have a seminal influence on art education. In England, Marion Richardson and R. R. Tomlinson were deeply impressed by what they thought were Cizek's methods, and as inspectors of the London County Council did much to propagate his ideas during the 1920's and 30's. Herbert Read, who more than any other single English art educator gave art education the appear- ance of a sound theoretical base, was in turn much indebted to Richardson and Tomlinson. Cizek's direct influence on

the Continent and in the United States is more difficult to establish. Many other art educators were working along similar lines, and Cizek's work may have acted more as a confirmation, albeit a dramatic one, than a reve- lation.2 However, whether his influence was direct or indirect, many commen- tators have regarded Cizek as the single most significant precursor to the self- expressive, "hands off" doctrine popularized by Read in England and Viktor Lowenfeld in the United States.3

Cizek said, "The child comes into the world as creator and creates every- thing out of his imagination."4 It was his view that children not only did not need adult influences, but that such influences were actually harmful. He argued that

Too many pictures, books, visits to the theatre, cinema, etc., are bad for the child. The child is so strong and rich in his own imaginative world that he needs little else.5

For support he claimed that children from poor families were generally more "original and creative" than children from wealthy families because poor children had not been corrupted by a strong cultural background.6

Cizek saw his role as art educator, not in terms of instruction, but as a gardener, tactfully removing the weeds that would, if allowed, strangle a child's innate sensitivity. The "weeds" that he saw were the ways in which adults made pictures, and which children clumsily tried to imitate. He thought that in attempting to emulate adults, children lost the playfulness, the delightful openness and naivete that he valued.

Consequently adult influences were banished from the Juvenile Art Class, at least ostensibly. No pictures by adults, of whatever kind, were allowed.7 Children were expected to rely solely on their so-called native intuition, their inner promptings, their natural sensi- tivity and creativeness. To a child who

asked "How do I draw a horse?", Cizek would reply, "You already know how you should do it, just do it and it will be good."8 And to the question, "What does a meadow look like?", he was heard to reply, "Lie down in it, shut your eyes and live the meadow."9

Cizek's approach came to the atten- tion of English and American art educators, initially, through a series of exhibitions. They began in 1919 and continued through the 1920's. From the start they caused something of a sensation. What surprised spectators was the sheer competence of the children's images. Their technique staggered everyone, especially when the images were considered within the context of the philosophy of which they were said to be the product. One astonished commentator wrote:

It was hard to believe that children of 7 to 15, however highly endowed, could express with certainty, vividness and power, such individual and truly inspired conceptions. And when the method of the teacher became known amazement gave way to incredulity. For the children were not, in the usual sense of the word, taught at all! There was no insistence on technique, no ordered method of study. All the children ... not only did what they liked but what they jolly well liked! Cizek never blames nor praises. Methods, material, subject, purpose, all these are left to the child's free choice.10

It is important to note that these exhibitions were held for the purpose of raising funds to offset the financial problems the Juvenile Art Class experienced in the the wake of World War I. In other words, the exhibitions were not organized to present a genuine cross section of work for the purpose of critical appraisal, but as an exercise in remaining solvent. This context must surely have determined that only the most successful and polished of images that were most likely to impress were presented. Most of the work was from older children and adolescents, and

Art Education September 1982

- m

m -1--- 011--i 0

A - d3 r 0

32

This content downloaded from 188.72.127.191 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

Marion Richardson, although much taken by the images, nevertheless noted that those on display tended to be somewhat mannered."l The products were good-very good, but when it was said of them that they were the result of placing all the emphasis on the process, they seemed certain proof of the value of self-expression. If children could produce such work unaided, it was clearly best, as Cizek advised, not to trouble children with teaching culturally conventional ways of pro- ducing pictures.

It is interesting that contemporary art educators were under the impression that the Juvenile Art Class consisted only of highly talented students,12 but this does not seem to have been the case. 13 The students were all highly motivated, but they appar- ently ranged widely in their giftedness. This is an important misreading because the assumption that Cizek's students were unusually talented may, perhaps, have helped to account for the discrepancy between what his students were able to achieve, and the relatively purile efforts that children must have produced under teachers who followed Cizek's stated methods. If Cizek's methods were therefore taken as a goal to be attained only under ideal circumstances, the method itself would not have seemed to be in need of being questioned.

Intrigued by Cizek's stated methods and their apparent fruits, thousands of visitors journeyed to his art classes to see him and his assistant at work. Several visitors, who were to prove effective advocates of his approach, appear to have been so excited by his ideas that they were willing to overlook the inconsistency between what Cizek preached and what he actually did in the classroom. Principal among these visitors was Wilhelm Viola who vir- tually allowed himself to become a mouthpiece for Cizek. Viola's two widely used books are an uncritical account of what Cizek said he was doing. They include many unexamined quotes from Cizek, and the first in- cludes several applauding testimonials from satisfied students.14 Even Richardson, who similarly visited Cizek in Hamburg, was prepared to regard the pictures that she felt were mannered, as forgivable, temporary lapses from Cizek's basic approach.'5

In fact such deliberate work was not the result of a lapse, but the outcome of Cizek's usual classroom practice. Far from being evidence for untutored

*N o pictures by adults, of whatever kind, were allowed. Children were expected to rely solely on their so- called native intuition, their inner promptings, their natural sensitivity and creativeness."

self-expression, they are actually evidence for the need for a directed "hands on" approach. This point was perhaps first brought out by the eminent art educator, Thomas Munro. Munro also visited Cizek in Hamburg, but he expressed grave doubts.16 He began by noticing that the images of the students which covered the walls of the classroom did not exhibit the rich diversity one would expect from children who were each expressing something that was unique to them- selves. Instead, each image bore a striking similarity to all the other images. How could this be accounted for? Munro suggested that the students were actually learning to make pictures by copying one another. He pointed out that children look to adults they admire for advice, and that no amount of praise for self-reliance can prevent this. Even where pictures by adults are banned from the classroom, children will inevitably imitate pictures by class- mates which seem to reflect a teacher's preferences. It seemed to Munro that the children's pictures were actually attempts to emulate the styles that Cizek appeared to favor. Moreover, as he went on to point out, it was quite impossible to cut children off altogether from so-called "adult pictures." Such influences as these may afford could be banned from the classroom, from its physical perimeter, but not from the lives the children led outside the art class. It was to be expected that children who were interested in making images would take an active interest in how images in shop windows, in magazines and picture postcards etc., were pro-

duced. The proof of this, for Munro, lay in the children's pictures themselves: they seemed to echo street posters and the children's daily contact with Austrian handicrafts. And the black outline which was typical of the work of the Juvenile Art Class appeared to reflect contemporary commercial illus- tration, which in turn had its stylistic origins in Jugendstein, the movement of youth and vitality, the movement that had dominated the 1890's Vienna of Cizek's own youth.

It is instructive to note that Munro's intuition about the real nature of picture production under Cizek accords closely with E. H. Gombrich's ideas of how pictures are produced.'7 Gombrich has propounded the view, first pro- posed by the art historian Hendrich Wolfflin, that "all pictures owe more to other pictures than they do to nature.""' Through extensive docu- mentation Gombrich has established that artists do not create everything out of their imaginations, as Cizek sug- gested children should, but that they make images with respect to a received tradition of image-making. Many artists develop beyond the received tradition, of course: they may innovate, even radically, but only on the basis of stylistic conventions that are commonly shared. Indeed, without a received tradition the possibility of innovation would not exist. The possibility of visual creativity, by which is meant something culturally original, is always rooted in an apprenticeship of acquiring the means of picture production that are conventional within a particular culture. And if this is true for artists observing nature, it is surely all the more true for children making images from their memory of nature, or from their imaginations. Stylistic conventions must come from somewhere, and if not from within the art room they will come, as Munro observed, from outside the art room.

There can certainly be no doubt that the pictures reproduced in Viola's books on Cizek owe their stylistic origins to illustrations from con- temporary children's picture-books. Far from being the highly idiosyncratic products of individual children, the pictures are stylistically similar, and we might even consider them to be ex- amples of a child art style, peculiar to Cizek's Juvenile Art Class. Further- more, the pictures from his classes, at least those that found their way into exhibitions and books, are notable for being essentially sentimental, if not in

Art Education September 1982 33

This content downloaded from 188.72.127.191 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

fact, actually coy. Their subject matter is typically of children in groups play- ing or dancing with their hair and ribbons flying, and the figures are often set against flowery fields of elaborately decorated backgrounds. The approach is very deliberate, perhaps even precious. Thus when Cizek's actual classroom practice is examined, the development of this specific style and choice of subject matter becomes explicable. Apart from his ban on "adult" pictures, he had a very systematic and well established classroom procedure. In fact his approach to the business of handling thirty and more eager young individuals was similar to the techniques that many teachers today find necessary both to keep order during a lesson and to ensure a satisfactory end product. Indeed, he foreshadowed many stand- ard artroom procedures.

Cizek carefully chose and restricted the colours his students worked with, handing them out separately, and often one at a time. Sometimes students were restricted to three colours. He would set a subject, discuss the character of the subject to be pictured, and previous student work would be shown and dis- cussed (later to be removed to avoid direct copying). He gave students directions on where to begin, and what succession of steps to follow. Once students had commenced he would discuss their progress, either individu- ally or in small groups. His teaching was quite directed. He insisted, for example,

that paper should be filled, that strong rhythmic outlines be drawn, that work should start at the top of the paper, and that each part of any figure should be out- lined separately starting with the head near the top of the paper, that figures should be full of character and movement, that colours should be painted over other colours, that the outlines should show after the painting was completed, that decorative patterns should be included where appropriate . . 19

One ex-student described Cizek's methods as involving a "rigorous and demanding exploration of design ele- ments and principles."20 And this world famous exponent of untutored self-expression even inflicted his own colour preferences. He objected to brown, mauve, and grey, and believed that red and yellow, being the brightest and most gay of colours, were the most

suitable for children. Despite what Cizek said, and despite what others said about him, he seems to have been as equally product as process oriented. On the evidence of the pictures pro- duced under his control and our knowl- edge of the conditions under which they were produced, it has even been argued that Cizek was not in fact interested in self-expression at all, and that he was instead primarily concerned to elicit finished products.21

Of at least one thing we can be certain: Cizek was a masterful teacher. He emerges from various eye witness reports as a gentle, but commanding figure who set high standards and who possessed the kind of empathy for children which inspires diligent work.22 Toward the conclusion of each lesson it was his practice to pin up the whole class's work and to discuss each picture, and to be lavish with his praise. He seems to have been able to combine just that degree of order necessary for class control, and which students crave, with a pleasant, encouraging environment in which students were gently but firmly guided by constant positive reinforcement.

What Cizek completely lacked was insight into the impact of his own role. Munro reports that when he expressed his doubts to Cizek and his assistant, they were both adamant that their students' work was totally un- influenced.23 What seemed to Munro to be pictures clearly derived from popular imagery sources, seemed to them to be the pure expression of innate creativity. They were so much a part of their own culture, that they could not see that their students were simply reproducing particular aspects of it. The implication here is that when- ever students are required to make images in a classroom, even when their teachers refuse to openly instruct them in cultural conceptions of image- making, they will draw upon whatever is available to them in their culture, however clumsy or unsystematic their efforts may be. And where they are denied formal instruction and have to rely on their memory of what they have seen beyond the classroom, their efforts are bound to be clumsy, to evidence an uncertain groping after conventions.

It is also worth noting at this point that Cizek's pupils rarely stayed with him into adolescence. Munro observed that after years of being denied systematic, formal assistance, Cizek's students ended up viewing picture

production as no more than a childish, playful pastime.24 The parallel with what happens to many of our students today does not require emphasis. The only difference between Cizek's pupils and many of our own is that whereas our pupils, in a free, self-expressive environment approximating Cizek's stated methods, fail to acquire any coherent style at all, his students, because he failed to practice what he preached, at least acquired a peculiarly decorative and sentimental child art style.

The lesson to be learned here is not, of course, that Cizek was utterly wrong and that we should return to the 19th century practice of slavish copying. This approach was not only, pre- sumably, highly unpleasant for students, but was too narrow in con- ception. It approved of far too few cultural conventions. Munro argues, however, that while Cizek's practice was set against the soul-destroying routine of 19th century art educational practice, it actually had a similar effect.25 It too, was far too narrow. Cizek approved, however uncon- sciously, of a different range of con- ventions from 19th century academic art, but an equally limited range, and moreover none of the conventions he approved of were among the richest of our cultural traditions, neither of the fine arts, nor of the great tradition of scientific illustration.

If children are denied access to the various rich traditions of image- making, they will inevitably seek out what is most readily accessible and easiest to learn from outside the class- room. In children's production of particular kinds of pictures, pro- hibitions seem to act as decisively as permissions and formal requirements. The only alternatives to seeking assistance outside the classroom are to flounder about in a pre-conventional stage, or as with many students, to give up making images unless formally required. While very young children are happy to devise their own images, children from about seven years or so possess the intuitive cognitive awareness that image-making is conventional,26 and they thereafter continue to learn to make images, if at all, by modelling the images of others.27 As Gombrich has shown, artists have always learned to produce pictures by studying the pictures of others. So we should not be surprised to find that once children have acquired the cognitive readiness

Art Education September 1982 34

This content downloaded from 188.72.127.191 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

to make images in culturally approved ways, their principal means of doing so should be any different from that of adult artists.

For art educators, then, the question should not be whether or not to teach conventional ways of making images, but how best to teach. What cultural conventions are necessary for students to express their interaction with their world? What visual conventions would facilitate learning in other subject areas? At what age are students ready to acquire different conventions? What are the variations among children in learning the conventions? These are the kinds of questions we should be asking.

to make images in culturally approved ways, their principal means of doing so should be any different from that of adult artists.

For art educators, then, the question should not be whether or not to teach conventional ways of making images, but how best to teach. What cultural conventions are necessary for students to express their interaction with their world? What visual conventions would facilitate learning in other subject areas? At what age are students ready to acquire different conventions? What are the variations among children in learning the conventions? These are the kinds of questions we should be asking.

Paul Duncum teaches in the school of humanities at the Flinders University of South Australia at Bedford Park.

Paul Duncum teaches in the school of humanities at the Flinders University of South Australia at Bedford Park.

References 'Stuart MacDonald, The History and

Philosophy of Art Education, New York: American Elsevier, 1970, p. 341.

2See Brent Wilson, "The Other Side of Evaluation in Art Education," in Curricula Considerations for Visual Arts Education, ed., George W. Hardiman and Theodore

References 'Stuart MacDonald, The History and

Philosophy of Art Education, New York: American Elsevier, 1970, p. 341.

2See Brent Wilson, "The Other Side of Evaluation in Art Education," in Curricula Considerations for Visual Arts Education, ed., George W. Hardiman and Theodore

Zernich, Champaign, Ill.: Stipes, 1974, p. 252.

3See MacDonald, pp. 320-354, Arthur Efland, "Changing Views of Children's Artistic Development: Their Impact on Curriculum and Instruction," in The Arts, Human Development and Education, ed., Elliot Eisner, Berkeley, Calif.: McCutchan, 1976, pp. 65-85, and Max Dimmack, Modern Art Education in the Primary School, Melbourne: MacMillan and Co., 1960, pp. 6-10.

4Wilhelm Viola, Child Art and Franz Cizek, Vienna: Austrian Red Cross, 1936, p. 38.

'Ibid., p. 20. 6Ibid., p. 20. 7Older adolescent students were some-

times encouraged to attend exhibitions of modern art. See Thomas Munro, Art Education: Its Philosophy and Psychology, Indianapolis: Bobbs/Merrill, 1956, p. 238.

80p. cit., Franz Cizek, p. 36. 9Ibid., p. 21.

'"J. Littlejohns, Art in Schools, London: University of London, 1928, pp. 38-39.

"Op. cit., MacDonald, p. 345. "2See Littlejohns, Op. cit., p. 38, and

R. R. Tomlinson, Picture Making by Children, ed., C. G. Holme, London: The Studio Ltd., 1934, p. 16.

"Wilhelm Viola, Child Art, 2nd ed., London: University of London Press, 1944, p. 91.

140p. cit., Viola, Child Art and Franz Cizek and Child Art.

Zernich, Champaign, Ill.: Stipes, 1974, p. 252.

3See MacDonald, pp. 320-354, Arthur Efland, "Changing Views of Children's Artistic Development: Their Impact on Curriculum and Instruction," in The Arts, Human Development and Education, ed., Elliot Eisner, Berkeley, Calif.: McCutchan, 1976, pp. 65-85, and Max Dimmack, Modern Art Education in the Primary School, Melbourne: MacMillan and Co., 1960, pp. 6-10.

4Wilhelm Viola, Child Art and Franz Cizek, Vienna: Austrian Red Cross, 1936, p. 38.

'Ibid., p. 20. 6Ibid., p. 20. 7Older adolescent students were some-

times encouraged to attend exhibitions of modern art. See Thomas Munro, Art Education: Its Philosophy and Psychology, Indianapolis: Bobbs/Merrill, 1956, p. 238.

80p. cit., Franz Cizek, p. 36. 9Ibid., p. 21.

'"J. Littlejohns, Art in Schools, London: University of London, 1928, pp. 38-39.

"Op. cit., MacDonald, p. 345. "2See Littlejohns, Op. cit., p. 38, and

R. R. Tomlinson, Picture Making by Children, ed., C. G. Holme, London: The Studio Ltd., 1934, p. 16.

"Wilhelm Viola, Child Art, 2nd ed., London: University of London Press, 1944, p. 91.

140p. cit., Viola, Child Art and Franz Cizek and Child Art.

5"Op. cit. MacDonald, p. 545. 160p. cit., Munro, pp. 237-341. "'E. H. Gombrich, Art and Illusion,

London! Phaidon, 1960. '"Cited. E. H. Gombrich, Meditations on

a Hobby Horse, London: Phaidon, 1968, p. 219.

19Op. cit., MacDonald, p. 347. 20Op. cit., Efland, p. 73. 2'Ibid., p. 74. 22For the most complete account see

Viola, Child Art, Op. cit., pp. 112-193. 23Munro, p. 239. Also see Viola, Child

Art, Op. cit., pp. 79-80. 24Ibid., p. 240. 25Ibid., pp. 240-241. 26Most comprehensively argued by

Howard Gardener, The Arts and Human Development, New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1973.

27Perhaps most forcefully argued by Brent and Marjorie Wilson, "An Iconoclastic View of the Imagery Sources of Young People," Art Education, Vol. 30, No. 1, January 1977, pp. 5-11.

CORRECTION: Karen A. Hamblen's name was incorrectly spelled in the July 1982 issue of Art Education. She is author of the review entitled "A Wolfe is a Wolfe is a. . . 'From Bauhaus to Our House' by Tom Wolfe," which was published in that issue.

5"Op. cit. MacDonald, p. 545. 160p. cit., Munro, pp. 237-341. "'E. H. Gombrich, Art and Illusion,

London! Phaidon, 1960. '"Cited. E. H. Gombrich, Meditations on

a Hobby Horse, London: Phaidon, 1968, p. 219.

19Op. cit., MacDonald, p. 347. 20Op. cit., Efland, p. 73. 2'Ibid., p. 74. 22For the most complete account see

Viola, Child Art, Op. cit., pp. 112-193. 23Munro, p. 239. Also see Viola, Child

Art, Op. cit., pp. 79-80. 24Ibid., p. 240. 25Ibid., pp. 240-241. 26Most comprehensively argued by

Howard Gardener, The Arts and Human Development, New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1973.

27Perhaps most forcefully argued by Brent and Marjorie Wilson, "An Iconoclastic View of the Imagery Sources of Young People," Art Education, Vol. 30, No. 1, January 1977, pp. 5-11.

CORRECTION: Karen A. Hamblen's name was incorrectly spelled in the July 1982 issue of Art Education. She is author of the review entitled "A Wolfe is a Wolfe is a. . . 'From Bauhaus to Our House' by Tom Wolfe," which was published in that issue.

ANNOUNCING

High School Drawing 82 November 14 -December 12, 1982

The third annual drawing exhibition open to all high school . :: students and sponsored by the Gallery and the Art Divisionii of the College of Saint Rose, Albany, New York. ^

The purpose of this exhibition is to present to the i i' : public the energy, inventiveness and insight found in the drawings of high school students and to award g ^ those students in their efforts to make art and there- by to encourage them to continue in their striving to discover their own personal imagery.

Entries due November 1, 1982 For further information write to: l

High School Drawing 82 .. . . . Division of Art *: Picotte Hall'[ The College of Saint Rose 324 State Street Randolph Williams, artist and Albany, New York 12210 ment of High School Programc

or call: Metropolitan Museum of Art ir (518) 454-5185 juries High School Drawing 81

ANNOUNCING

High School Drawing 82 November 14 -December 12, 1982

The third annual drawing exhibition open to all high school . :: students and sponsored by the Gallery and the Art Divisionii of the College of Saint Rose, Albany, New York. ^

The purpose of this exhibition is to present to the i i' : public the energy, inventiveness and insight found in the drawings of high school students and to award g ^ those students in their efforts to make art and there- by to encourage them to continue in their striving to discover their own personal imagery.

Entries due November 1, 1982 For further information write to: l

High School Drawing 82 .. . . . Division of Art *: Picotte Hall'[ The College of Saint Rose 324 State Street Randolph Williams, artist and Albany, New York 12210 ment of High School Programc

or call: Metropolitan Museum of Art ir (518) 454-5185 juries High School Drawing 81

teacher, Depart- s at the n New York City,

teacher, Depart- s at the n New York City,

Art Education September 1982 Art Education September 1982 35 35

This content downloaded from 188.72.127.191 on Sat, 14 Jun 2014 12:53:55 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions