Ecologies of ExperienceJohn Dewey, Distributed Cognition, and the Cultural-Cognitive Ecosystem of Theatre-Training Settings Cohen Ambrose (bio) In the final remarks of one of his last writings on education, delivered for the 1938 Kappa Delta Pi Lecture Series, philosopher and psychologist John Dewey argued that personal experience ought to be the ultimate goal and means of education: "Education in order to accomplish its ends both for the individual learner and for society, must be based upon experience—which is always the actual life-experience of some individual. … It is for this reason alone that I have emphasized the need for a sound philosophy of experience."1 As an early-career faculty member and coordinator of a small theatre program at a teaching-and student-centered college, I was drawn to Dewey's assertion that the driving force of education is to create experiences that lead to more educative experiences. I was curious, then: since collaboration; studio training; theoretical, literary, and historical examination; and preparation all tend to culminate in the highly experiential process of production in most theatre-training settings, are we not perfectly positioned to attempt to articulate such a philosophy of experience? Since theatre training is also a deeply embodied experience, I argue for a philosophy that focuses its attention on the bodies of the teachers and learners at its core. In this essay, I focus primarily on hypothesizing a scientific and philosophical basis for the conception of experience in order to inform future detailed and concrete outlines of educative experiences in the theatre-training setting. Dewey argues, "The more definitely and sincerely it is held that education is a development within, by, and for experience, the more important it is that there shall be clear conceptions of what experience is."2 I suggest that current hypotheses of situated cognition—namely extended mind, as proposed by Andy Clark and David Chalmers,3 [End Page 80] embodied cognition, and, primarily, distributed cognition—are in and of themselves examples of "what experience is." I also articulate some concrete examples of what the centrality of the bodies of the learners and teachers in a given training ecology might look like at curricular, institutional, and classroom and studio levels. These modes of considering a learner's brain-to-body-to-world engagement culminate in a metaphorical conception of the sociocultural and physical design of any human environment, including the theatre-training setting, that Edwin Hutchins calls a "cognitive ecosystem," or "cognitive ecology."4 For John Sutton and Evelyn Tribble, cognitive ecologies are "multi-dimensional contexts in which we remember, feel, think, sense, communicate, imagine, and act, often collaboratively, on the fly, and in rich, ongoing interaction with our environments."5 The science community's relatively recent acknowledgment of cognitive ecosystems makes the literal and metaphoric ways of understanding the possibilities of change in theatre-training settings particularly ripe for exploration. Hutchins beckons: "As an object of study, this cognitive ecosystem falls into the cracks among the academic disciplines as they are currently organized. Because no field or discipline has yet taken ownership of cultural-cognitive ecosystems, little is known about their function."6 Answering Hutchins's call, I suggest that theatre practitioners serving as teachers and leaders in institutions of higher education take ownership of cultural-cognitive ecosystems to help us form a theoretical and practice-based philosophy of embodied experience in the theatre-training setting. The Conditions for Experience in the Theatre-Training Setting In fairly clear terms, Dewey articulates what does and does not constitute an educative experience. Put simply, he argues that any experience that leads to new experiences is educative because it plants a seed for another experience. Whether the embodied experiences within the cognitive ecosystem themselves—an acting class, a run crew position, or an audition, for example—are negative or positive, if they do not cohere and lead to the germination and growth of further, generative experiences, they end up standing alone as mere isolated events that do not fit into a whole. Dewey warns that "each experience may be lively, vivid, and 'interesting', and yet their disconnectedness may artificially generate dispersive, disintegrated, centrifugal habits."7 No matter how positive a given learning...
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