Q-Art London

Originally published in a-n Magazine as July-August 2010 Debate

In a recent presentation to peers, tutors and her Goldsmiths degree show audiences, Sarah Rowles asks: Does art education come with a key to understanding art and making more informed judgments about art?

In the UK art education normally takes the following forms:

• Crits (at Goldsmiths these are called these ‘convenors’) – an artist presents work to their peers for critical feedback and discussion.

• Tutorials ¬– a student sits down with a tutor in their studio and has a one-to-one discussion about their work. It’s a back-and-forth of ideas, an exchange of suggestions, questions and opinions. The tutor leaves you with stuff to think about.

• Lectures and seminars – some courses give these on art history, others critical studies. A few but not many have both.

These are the formal structures laid out by the course. Learning may also come from discussion with peers in the studio and any self-led activity you choose to get up to.

I recently interviewed students about their experiences of art education. Almost everyone I spoke to reflected on these models and concluded that art education happens through a series of ‘conversations’. Rather than the traditional master-pupil style of learning that you get in other education, or the atelier system you get in some European art schools where art students follow a master, the preferred system here – and this is apparently an educational or pedagogic ideal rather than an economic cop-out – is that it is a student-centred experience, a self-led learning style. Within this programme of learning, the crit or the convenor is meant to be one of the key spaces where education in terms of learning about art, about reading art, takes place; where knowledge is transmitted from student to student in crits. However there is an assumption here: that all students feel they have knowledge that they are confident in sharing.

Pierre Bourdieu is a French philosopher and sociologist, famous within the academic world for mapping out the dynamics of power and class relations in society. He applied his ideas to the ‘field’ of art and compared the reading of a work of art to the reading of a language or system of signs. His suggestion was that those who did not grow up seeing art or visiting museums would be at a disadvantage when both making and reading art for their inability to perceive when old codes are being broken. Now, there have been many times that I have found myself unable to analyse or find the tools to read work with quite the same proficiency that others seem to be able to. Because this skill is not taught in art education, and because I didn’t gain it from my experiences early on in life, I do wonder whether Bourdieu’s idea may well hold some weight? Is there a presumption, when we enter higher education, that we already have these skills, these intellectual assets – Something Bourdieu calls ‘cultural capital’?

One observation I had throughout my time in art education is that it felt there was little time to just create without having to reference and ideally build upon the work of other artists. Always told to go and see as much art as possible, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to apply Bourdieu’s logic to suggest that those who did not grow up seeing art (perhaps even those who did) may subconsciously imitate the aesthetic they see in the art market. In the interviews I carried out with students, a few mentioned that when they were lost they “made work that at least looked like art”.

There is also the question of art school brands. What influence do these have on the work of students who attend each college? Do students ever police themselves into only producing work that resembles the aesthetic they perceive the college to value? Do colleges have perceived house styles and if so how are these created? This question intrigued me to such an extent that in my second year at Goldsmiths I set up Q-Art London, a forum for students and graduates from across London’s brand name universities. One thing I was interested in was what happened when students from these universities came together. Would distinct knowledge, approaches, styles or even rivalries become apparent or would they be subdued?

Q-Art uses the crit or the convenor as its main activity. Students and graduates come because they recognise this format. But in being free and in being open there was the idea that others who hadn’t gone to art college would come along too. Over the last two years about 5% of those who come to Q-Art have not studied at art college.

Despite its openness I now realise that the crit is itself an art college ritual and one which, by name at least, most attendees come to because they recognise. Perhaps ‘access’ to art is more than simply being allowed to step through the door?

Whilst pondering these questions, topics of de-schooling and radical pedagogy (experimental teaching models) have become fashionable in recent art world conversations and conferences. Many highly educated writers, thinkers, artists and tutors have been discussing these topics at length. There has also been a proliferation of autonomous or experimental art schools, all of these activities sharing a common goal of trying to re-think art education.

Art education has a history of re-working itself, of experimenting, of being challenged and then itself challenging: a move away from master-pupil forms towards a more student-centred experience, rejected notions of authority and knowledge hierarchy. The move towards a broad-based fine art course and away from divided disciplines challenged the authority of material hierarchies. Despite all this though, as students we often place our faith in the authority of those given responsibility over our education, who assure us that this is the best way forward. This is easy to do without realising, as educational structures can often appear neutral when you’re in them.

But what happens when these educational structures lead to situations of apparent access for all but really perhaps only for a few? Will these new art world conversations on art education listen to or ignore this question? Something debated a lot by artists interested in this topic or involved with autonomous art schools is whether or not it is possible to ‘escape’ or exist ‘outside’ of the institution. It’s perhaps asked flippantly. The real outside is where I began both my journey into art education; it’s where my family is, where many of my friends are; it’s the general public.

Sarah Rowles is a final year BA Art Practice student at Goldsmiths. This is an excerpt from a lecture originally delivered in June 2010 as part of Sarah’s degree show. Whilst on her degree Sarah set up Q-Art London (see www.q-artlondon.com) and published the book ’12 Gallerists: 20 Questions’ – a collection of interviews with London art gallerists that attempts to demystify the art world. The book is available from the Q-Art London website in pdf/hardcopy.

www.q-artlondon.com