In PDP we endeavour to persuade students to move away from generalities or superficial
conclusions about learning by honing and deepening their powers of observation, including what
is going on at the periphery of our vision. In holding outdoor activities we were cultivating these
observational skills and reappraising our working environments, in line with 1, 5 and 10 of our six
reflective situations. For how often do we take the spaces we work and study in at face value, often
only seeing them as ‘wallpaper’ for our present activities? As detectives we explored our arts and
craft building from the early 1900s, learning that Quentin Crisp had life-modelled in the upstairs
studio, that certain doors and windows lead mysteriously nowhere, about the girls trained for
domestic service, of seeing Darth Vader alight from a taxi outside the long-lost TV studio opposite,
of the three hospitals which went on standby every time stained glass was produced due to the
toxicity of materials used, about the students who hid in the building to spend all night finishing
their artwork in time for summer exhibitions, no doubt serenaded by the piano-playing ghost
allegedly resident in the 1970s staff room.
These anecdotes may seem irrelevant to course content or PDP evidence, but stimulated curiosity
and intrigue, while creating a sense of community and shared history in the space. The memories
of former tutors had structured our tour: they had revisited the building and reminisced about their
teaching and learning in spaces which had been so very different – handing down the baton of
recollection to current staff. In a nice connection to our sustainability theme they even revealed
that decades ago construction students in one half of the building used to create models of
staircases for exams and dump them in the College skip the day after. By nightfall these would all
have been reappropriated by the arts students in the other half for projects or by staff as plant
stands – this neatly indicating how recycling was taking place before the wheelie bins of today.
A workshop on recycling sets and scenery reminded us that the performance industry is renowned
for its post-hoc wastage of props, sometimes on an eye-watering scale. Participants therefore
needed to do 1), and open their eyes to the reality of industry behaviours, 2) and re-examine their
own values and practices with regard to waste and reuse, 5) understand the impact of such waste
and their part in its creation 6) spot the missing opportunity for action and 10) act on it. As for 11),
most participants were 'interested others' rather than from theatre or film courses, keen to think
about how their new knowledge may apply elsewhere in their lives. Gibbs argues persuasively that
the problem with transferable skills is that they are not transferable; however this experience
suggests that when an individual’s value system is threatened or bigger issues are at stake, more
transfer is possible – especially if the attraction of the subject is sufficiently strong.
My next example involves the creation of a bug hotel, a project which has captured many
imaginations, not least for its appearance in an arts college garden as opposed to an environmental
sciences department. This miraculous piece of architecture offers shelter to wildlife made
vulnerable as a result of the erosion of their natural habitat. Bar a few basic guidelines on creating
a beneficial ecosystem, the builder is free to unleash their creative and grubby sides
simultaneously. The hotels perform a valuable function, are aesthetically pleasing (if, like me, you
love artistically arranged piles of rustic stuff) and incredibly good fun to make.
THE CENTRE FOR RECORDING ACHIEVEMENT 104 -108 WALLGATE, WIGAN, WN3 4AB |
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