Learning from the Arts about Process and Reflection

Abstract

SEATED STAGE left in the tiny Los Angeles studio, the classically trained actor playing Dustin Hoffman's role (Ratso Rizzo) in a scene from the movie Midnight Cowboy looks as if he's about to cry. The first six rows of the small rehearsal theater are filled with fellow students in this master class for professional actors; the back rows hold less-seasoned auditors. The air is charged, the room is silent, and, with a stare into nowhere, the intense young thespian paralyzes his audience by speaking his lines with a trembling and terrified voice: I've been falling down a lot lately. I don't think I can walk anymore. His eyes cloud; his tone softens: I'm scared. was your objective--for that moment and for the scene overall? the master class teacher asks, breaking the silence. Clearly accustomed to such directed queries (he asks similar questions of himself), the actor articulates his intention and ponders its relative success. He was determined, he explains, to gain the other character's attention and assistance. Furthermore, he thinks he had something going at the moment of interest. Which part of it? When? the teacher probes. Through a series of focused questions and reflections, coach and actor entertain the possibility that the delivery of the line may have been sentimental; they weigh alternative options and brainstorm further the character's motivations; they don't agree. The teacher suggests they with an alternative, and within minutes the scene is completely reconstructed. This time the actor is almost defiant in his admission of fear. The teacher finds this delivery more plausible; the actor embraces aspects of his original interpretation. Whatever the outcome, the redrafting of the scene has raised new possibilities for revision. The next version will raise more. Witnessing the scene above, some people would be surprised that so much thought can go into an actor's display of emotion. Artistic expression is often imagined as emerging magically or mindlessly from those who are talented or inspired. We speak of the gifts of artistry, as if artistry were given and received, not earned by thoughtful diligence. Further, we associate art with play; education, with work; and when we allow that play is the work of children, we imply that playful activities (like taking part in theatrical endeavors) are associated with childhood needs or predilections, not with serious adult endeavors. Whether the arts are seen as reserved for the gifted or unworthy of significant attention, they are usually relegated to the sidelines of critical conversations in mainstream education. This disregard has provoked a defensive posture on the part of arts advocates, who have unfortunately spent more time in recent history advocating for the worth of the arts to general education than confidently investigating the many substantive models that the arts provide for teaching and learning across the curriculum. (1) The logic of this discourse is hard to follow. Throughout history human beings have looked to the arts to make sense of experience. Why would we not eagerly look to the arts for ways to make sense of education? SETTING THE STAGE With all of this in mind, what can educators learn from the artists' exchange described above about teaching and learning with students of any age and in any setting? For example, this scene from the master class vividly demonstrates the dynamic interaction between process and reflection that is a widely recognized feature of art making and learning and has spawned process-based approaches to educational assessment. (2) Process-based assessment distinguishes itself from good/bad and right/wrong evaluation by focusing instead on students' thoughtful reflection on the process of learning. What students get as a grade on a given piece of work is not as important as what they get from and give to their own learning on the work's account. …