John Baldessari, "Beach Scene/Nuns/Nurse (with Choices)", 1991 courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery, New York

Within the first few pages of the season 5 Educators’ Guide, readers are asked to think about the power and influence of juxtaposing images in order to give the viewer very different experiences. Working with artists like John Baldessari, a few of my classes recently began a unit to explore how juxtaposition has the power to send visual messages, tell stories, and even share qualities about ourselves.

Over the course of a few days, I asked students to bring in and collect a variety of images they would like to combine in a single artwork. After assembling the images and cropping them a bit, I asked them about the images they selected and what these images said about their interests, their habits and even their passions. One student remarked that the images he selected basically described his obsession with money. Another described her images as being primarily connected to food, which is something finds comfort in. Still another described his images revolving around his work related to environmental projects.

As students assemble their works this week, we will also begin moving into some small-group research exploring how juxtaposition can be used to send messages simply by placing certain images side-by side.

Nancy Spero "Masha Bruskina / Gestapo Victim" 1994, courtesy the artist and Galerie Lelong, New York

Students will be asked to work with partners to research and collect images (fine art reproductions, advertisements, posters, etc.) that send specific messages through juxtaposition. Along with viewing works by John Baldessari, we will be also be looking into artists such as Yinka Shonibare MBE, Nancy Spero, Kerry James Marshall, and Eleanor Antin.

Creating high quality works of art that are technically proficient is always very satisfying for both teachers and students, but when we have the opportunity to make students more aware of the images they see, and how they relate to larger themes and broader issues, we are teaching students not only how to create works of art but also how to interpret them.

Image courtesy of Esopus magazine.

This is part two of my interview with Esopus editor, Tod Lippy (click here for part one). In addition to the interview, readers may also want to check out “The Assembled Picture Library of NYC”, a collaborative exhibition and workspace environment organized by artists Robin Cameron and Jason Polan. The exhibition will provide free and open access to hundreds of images from the collections of Cameron and Polan. Visitors are invited to come in during gallery hours (Mon/Tue/Thu from 12-5pm) and use these images—which include manuscripts, advertisements, prints, original drawings, and more—as raw material for their own artworks, which will be displayed on the walls of Esopus Space for the length of the exhibition. Polan and Cameron will also create a book featuring visitors’ artworks, The Assembled Picture Library of New York Book, that will be available at the closing reception on March 18th.

Joe Fusaro: Esopus is a tremendous resource on many levels. Can you talk about the magazine’s relationship with educators? Have you had experience with teachers using the magazine in their classrooms, and if so, how?

Tod Lippy: I know that Esopus has been used as an educational tool by a number of our subscribers who happen to be teachers. One issue in particular has been especially popular in that regard: Esopus 6: Process, which featured evidence of the working methods of a number of different creative people — work journals from the late Christopher Isherwood relating to the writing of A Single Man; a photographic documentation of the making of a dry-point etching by the artist Sylvia Plimack Mangold, the comic Demetri Martin’s joke diaries, and even a paper model (which our readers could build from pre-cut forms included in the magazine) of a dodecahedron offered by the mathematician John Conway, who always employs model-building when working on a new theorem. But every issue of the magazine features content — such as our “Modern Artifacts” series produced in conjunction with the Museum of Modern Art Archives — that offers learning experiences for readers of all ages.

Since the editorial tone of the magazine is deliberately neutral — we try to avoid critical jargon that might be off-putting to more general readers — and since the artists’ projects in the magazine rarely have any introductions or explanations preceding them, I guess one could argue that the magazine is actually neglecting the opportunity to teach its readers about the meaning of contemporary art (much of which, of course, can feel oblique to people lacking art degrees).  But to tell you the truth I think the experience readers have with the work in the magazine, which they are forced to approach on their — and its — own terms, may end up being a deeper one in many cases.

Incidentally, I think that perhaps one of the best things Esopus has to offer younger readers, particularly in this era of publishing, is an essentially commercial-free environment. I’ve spoken at a number of high schools and colleges about the magazine, and when I deliver lectures I bring along a Powerpoint presentation during which I ask for a show of hands from the audience as I project photos of spreads from current magazines. I ask them to raise their right hands when they recognize an ad, and their left hands when they see editorial content. I start with obvious choices — a Nike advertisement, a page from The Talk of the Town in The New Yorker — but it’s amazing how quickly confusion sets in when I show them an “advertorial,” or a paid-for “special supplement” that apes the look and feel of the particular magazine. Advertising is so pervasive in every nook and cranny of our culture that it really isn’t noticed anymore, and I think that’s problematic, especially for young people who should know when they are being sold something.

Esopus 6: Process

JF: Have you been under pressure at certain points to include advertising for one reason or another?

TL: Not really, no.  The only entity in the magazine world that typically applies pressure regarding advertising is the publisher, which in this case is the Esopus Foundation. And the fact of the matter is that very few smaller circulation art magazines make any kind of significant revenue from ad sales anyway. So at this point it wouldn’t really make financial sense to open up the magazine to advertising.

JF: I have asked students to draw similarities between ideas and artists in specific issues or perhaps create lists of traditional and non-traditional media used to create the work in a given issue. Do you have any particular advice for those who might want to teach with the magazine or get more involved with Esopus outside of the magazine itself?

TL: I think (at least I hope) the magazine offers students and teachers a way to access the efforts of creative people in a very direct manner (as discussed earlier, without critical or commercial interruption), which ideally opens them up to different ways of looking at the world. I also believe that because Esopus is so devoted to its materiality, it raises some interesting questions about why printed matter can still offer a unique experience to readers that can never be replicated on the internet. It’s not that it’s necessarily better or worse than the experience of reading or viewing work online, but it is probably worthwhile to consider exploring the meaning of that very physical relationship with younger people, who have much less of a “history” with it.

As for going outside of the magazine, we now have an exhibition and performance venue in Greenwich Village called Esopus Space and we’ve been thrilled to see a number of students showing up for both exhibitions and for our series of lectures, screenings, concerts, and the like. One plan we hope to implement in the near future is to institute a series of workshops for high school students in the area, who will be invited to visit the space, get a tour of whichever exhibition is up at that time, and also learn more about Esopus and the magazine publishing in general.

Image courtesy of Esopus magazine.

Back in 2004, I was lucky enough to be introduced to Esopus magazine at a silent auction being held during a Mass MoCA fundraiser. Don’t ask me how, but my wife and I were able to bid on (and somehow afford when we won) a package that included a signed copy by every single artist and author in the very first issue of Esopus. At the time, I wasn’t as familiar with Beth Campbell or Christopher Durang, but I immediately loved their contributions. I was intrigued by the Richard Tuttle piece and had no idea what to make of Alex Shear’s work. And these were just four of the contributors!

Since then, I have managed to devour every issue at a leisurely pace (Esopus is published twice a year), been introduced to many new artists, and reintroduced to artists and writers I thought I knew. I have found ways to utilize Esopus as a teaching resource in the classroom and have shared it with many colleagues who have been impressed with the way the magazine simultaneously feels like a periodical and a group exhibit you hold in your hands.

This week, Teaching with Contemporary Art is pleased to present part one of an interview with Esopus editor, Tod Lippy, conducted via e-mail over the past month:

Joe Fusaro: What’s the story behind Esopus magazine? It’s certainly not a “regular” art magazine. As a matter of fact it’s more like a work of art that operates in a magazine-format and schedule. How did you get started?

Tod Lippy: I founded Esopus in 2003. I started it mainly because I had had a fair amount of experience in editing special-interest magazines and I wanted to take a different approach in order to create a magazine that would reach a wider audience. The idea was to come up with something that was very multidisciplinary in form and content. We have contributions from contemporary artists and filmmakers, writers, poets, musicians – a CD is included in every issue – and the idea was to avoid the kind of ghettoization that often comes with specialization in creative disciplines. If you go to a Barnes and Noble newsstand, you’ll find an Art section, and a Literature section, and a Film section, and a Design section—the idea was to somehow incorporate all of these in one magazine in order to attract a broader readership. There were several other ideas behind the founding of the magazine, but probably the most important one was that I didn’t want to include any advertising. I feel like I’m constantly fighting with advertisers when I’m going through my favorite magazines—particularly these days, when editorial and advertising are so hard to distinguish from one another—and it seemed like it was worth a shot to try to do a magazine that literally had nothing in it that was for sale.  So, in order to do that, I created a non-profit entity, the Esopus Foundation Ltd. We’re a 501(c)(3) and we depend on contributions from foundations and individuals to make up for the money we lose from not being able to count on advertising revenue which, as you probably know, is very important in the magazine publishing world.

JF: Did you also set out to create a magazine which functions as a work of art in itself? Because of the interdisciplinary nature of Esopus it also feels like purchasing a piece of art. There are things to unfold, pull out, and listen to.

TL: I can’t say that I explicitly set out to make something that functioned like a work of art.  I think that was probably a natural offshoot of my wanting to stay as invisible as possible as a designer. Most magazines have a very rigorous grid structure — an extreme example of this would be, say The New Yorker — where every article fits into a very recognizable format: Columns are generally the same width, headline and body typefaces are consistent, and artwork tends to be “framed” in relation to the composition of the page. I actually love The New Yorker and its look but that’s not what I was going for with Esopus. I wanted everything that appeared in the magazine to work visually on its own particular terms rather than conforming to a “house style” — that way, I hoped, each article or project would feel less mediated, and this would provide a more authentic experience for our readers. The idea was to give them the sense that they were flipping through a box of artifacts, each slightly different from the one before it.  This approach, I think, encourages that interaction you mentioned, which is so important to me and to the mission of the magazine. The less passive our audience feels, the better (for them and us)!

Image courtesy of Esopus magazine.

JF: Describe some of the challenges you face as you design and organize each issue.

TL: One of the biggest challenges is gathering content — each issue usually contains approximately 25 contributors (split between musicians for the CD and artists, writers, etc. for the magazine), and securing contributions from, and then keeping in contact with, all of these (typically very busy) people can present its difficulties. Usually I will start an issue with three or four definite contributions, and from there, it becomes easier and easier to fill in the blanks for the rest. For instance, if two artists are contributing artists’ projects and they both happen to be, say, photographers, I will obviously seek out a third who can contribute drawings or paintings. As the issue comes together, some semblance of a theme usually emerges. Although I don’t use it to identify the issue in any kind of formal way (our issues aren’t themed; only the CD is), it does tend to help the whole project coalesce in my mind. After editing, the design of the issue is the last thing I do before the magazine goes to press. As I mentioned before, in many cases it’s simply a matter of taking whatever an artist has given me and placing it in the magazine as is; at other times, there is more give-and-take between the contributor and myself. The key to all of this is a direct relationship between the two of us — one of my golden rules is that I never deal with people through their handlers (agents, publicists, gallerists, etc.), as it tends to lead to misunderstanding, confusion, and worse. So I will go back and forth with each contributor until they are happy with their piece Everyone always gets a chance to approve a final layout before we go to press. This whole process usually takes about 4 months.

Of course the other challenge — always — is financial. And that involves not only fundraising and creative thinking to cut costs but also aggressively seeking in-kind donations from paper companies, suppliers, and service people.

Part two of this interview will be published next week in the Teaching with Contemporary Art column.

Margaret Kilgallen, Installation view at UCLA / Armand Hammer Museum, Los Angeles 2000, Courtesy Deitch Projects, New York

Teaching with Contemporary Art is taking a break this week in order to complete special two-part interview with Esopus editor, Tod Lippy, which will be published here on the Art21 blog starting next Wednesday. Stay tuned for this unique look into a very, very distinct art magazine that has wonderful potential for art educators.

Also…. If you are a K-5 art educator and are interested in sharing how you work with contemporary art in your classroom, please e-mail me at: joe@art21.org so we can talk! I will be putting together a column in April focusing on the variety of ways elementary teachers approach working with contemporary art in their classrooms.

John Baldessari, Two-Person Fight (One Orange): With Spectator, 2004 Courtesy Marian Goodman Gallery, New York

Art classrooms are often noisy places. In college they sometimes make a u-turn and become silent morgues where students wait patiently in cold studios for individual crits, but in general, art classrooms are full of activity. Because our classes have such a infectious energy many teachers are often in the position of riding a “wave” of work but putting real conversation and meaning-making on the back burner. Teachers can get caught making excuses about why their students “can’t have a conversation” or “won’t be quiet”, and consequently plan lessons that require extremely quick instructions that follow with a period of “work”- there’s no reflection, no connections, do not pass Go, do not collect $200.

This is a recipe for disaster.

The most effective classrooms I have had the pleasure to visit, teach in, or simply learn about have common elements that include, but aren’t limited to:

• Varieties of teaching strategies that consider multiple learning styles
• Changes in rhythm and tempo of lessons
• Big questions and/or ideas that students are working with
• Effective and simple classroom management techniques- nothing fancy

Part of what makes students ready to discuss works of art, participate in partner work, or break their routine in any way involves something that all of us appreciate- a little heads-up.

For example, when students know in advance that the next session will involve art making AND a partnered conversation and sharing, they are more prepared to do so next time vs. being surprised and complaining. We can avoid a few of the “Why do we have to read?” comments if we prep students for when and why we’re reading in advance. Being up front about our planning and next steps is in itself a classroom management technique and a way to more effectively facilitate students talking with one another about questions and ideas that surface in contemporary art. A little heads-up can go a long way.

K-1st grade texture and color study submitted by June Edmonds

About six months ago, Art21 ventured into the land of summer teacher institutes. We invited 15 teachers from across the country to come to New York City and spend a week with us learning about ways to bring contemporary art and artists into the classroom using Art21 resources. It was a ton of work and an equal amount of fun. Since then, these teachers have had the opportunity to plan curriculum, try new teaching strategies, develop units and lessons that are driven by big ideas, and even work with some Art21 artists in the process.

We have now hit the mid-point of our first year working with these 15 teachers, and over the past few weeks I’ve had the chance to reach out to many of them and discuss their experiences so far- from the summer institute this past July to their current plans for this spring. It’s been extremely interesting to find out that many teachers now find themselves working with IDEAS as opposed to materials-based strategies or teaching particular styles. It’s has been tremendously gratifying to hear that experiences with artists and art works- firsthand- became a springboard for learning about other artists, art, and approaches to creating. The group has also shared hundreds of photos (literally) and dozens of classroom videos through our interactive Ning website devoted exclusively to this cohort of teachers.

As we move into the second half of our year together we look forward to visiting teachers in their classrooms, learning more about the successes and challenges they face, and even making time to talk with students about how learning with contemporary art has made a difference for them.

Year 2 of the Art21 Educators summer institute will run from July 7-14, 2010 and is now accepting applications from pairs of teachers. Click here for more information and to download an application!

Vija Celmins, "Untitled (Big Sea #1)," 1969. Graphite on acrylic ground on paper, 34 1/8 x 45 1/4 inches. Private collection. Courtesy McKee Gallery, New York.

Recently I was engaged in a little debate about whether contemporary art can truly be transcendent — taking us beyond the range of normal perception to some place else, some place free from the constraints of the material world. While I immediately thought of Season 5 artist, Kimsooja, and her ability to highlight the artistic context in everyday activities (sewing, cleaning, decorating, etc.), I also thought about the repetitive nature of her work and how repetition is one path to transcendence that many other artists most certainly incorporate. One of these artists, Vija Celmins, is featured in Season 2 and utilizes repetition in her seascapes and night skies. They are meticulously drawn and painted to the point that the viewer isn’t looking at a picture as much as they are looking into one. And when you look close enough, similar to the experience thousands of students have when really seeing a painting by George Seurat or Chuck Close, you go someplace else; you see beyond what the picture is.

I try to make a piece that’s strong and thorough and doesn’t jump off the paper. It’s neither ocean nor a piece of paper. It becomes a third thing.   

— Vija Celmins

Any teacher that has experienced the hum of fluorescent lights and a roomful of students engaged to the point that you can actually hear ideas being scratched into paper or canvas has experienced another kind of transcendent moment. These are the times we feel that “buzz” of work and the rhythm of not necessarily moving through the room, but of the room moving through us, through our own energy and the work we’re facilitating. It’s our job to create spaces for these kinds of moments where students become immersed in the ideas they are shaping and shaping them slowly, without rushing, but with a sense of urgency.

Student work, The Earth School

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of visiting The Earth School in New York’s East Village and at one point noticed a science classroom through a small window that immediately struck me- there were plants, bones, drawing materials, cabinets, books, field guides, lots of sunlight and carefully arranged tables and workstations. The room itself was like a beautiful business card for the teacher, Abbe Futterman, whom I’d never met. Anyone could tell this place meant business. There wasn’t a child in the classroom but you could clearly see that the students and their teacher took pride in the work that was accomplished here. After asking a few questions I was quickly introduced to Abbe and pleasantly surprised to find out that she is a Pratt Institute graduate who often teaches science through the arts. Below is a conversation we had following that visit.

JF: You work as a science teacher that graduated Pratt Institute. That alone is interesting. Tell me about that transition.

AF: It was more of the shift from art to the art of teaching because I began as a 3^rd and 4^th grade teacher. Only later did I become a science teacher. When I discovered how much creativity there is in teaching, it became my first love. I especially enjoy teaching science because it captures the imagination and wonder of the students and myself. Description and documentation are also very important to me and, I believe, for learning science. The processes of Audubon, Darwin, and McClintock have influenced how I view science. Teaching young people life drawing techniques gets them to slow down, observe, and notice the structure of things. Equally important to me is that my students experience what Eleanor Duckworth calls “the having of wonderful ideas,” which I interpret as the imaginative act of discovery and synthesis and which is very akin to a powerful aesthetic experience. I think these acts of the imagination empower and enlighten children and adults similarly.

JF: Can you describe some of the situations or lessons where you use drawing in your classroom? Are there particular artists that have made their way into your curriculum?

AF: I use drawing or scientific illustration in various ways with my students. For example, if they are studying biology using snails, or mealworms, or plants, or pillbugs, I have them do large detailed studies. I teach this technique starting in Kindergarten right through fifth grade- explicit life drawing techniques that I call “Looking and Drawing.” I model first using pencil and an art eraser. I implore them to look a LOT and draw a LITTLE; look a LOT and draw a little more; to erase as needed; and redraw. I emphasize the looking: “Is this plant the exact green that’s in the paint set?” “Is the entire plant the same green?” Then I show them some basic mixing and blending techniques. Students often draw and then label the parts. They get to draw microscopes, flowers, fruit, etc.

Student work, The Earth School

JF: You mentioned enjoying teaching science because it captures the wonder and imagination of both the students and yourself. I teach visual art for the same reason. Do you feel that teachers need to have a sense of wonder in order to teach effectively? If so, how do you keep that sense, that spark, alive in your own work?

AF: Children are by nature “wonder-igniters” since they live in the world of imagination and discovery. The hard part is listening well and not getting carried off completely by the day-to-day logistics of classroom life. I think teachers need to stay open to their students and to know each one well enough to be awed by him/her and his/her work. The opposite of that– not seeing/knowing the person, the individual– is what drains our positive energy from teaching.

JF: What does students becoming empowered through using their imagination look and sound like in your science classroom?

AF: Finding slug eggs, making the bulb light up, getting the microscope to focus, seeing cells for the first time, nurturing a seed, harvesting a tomato, catching the mealworm beetle as it “hatches” out of its pupa, making a “floater” sink and a “sinker” float, building a taller block building, getting a marble to run through a maze. Discovery that is the result of an imaginative act– one’s own “wonderful idea”– is a powerful thing. I believe that when children experience their own agency in this way, they learn that they can change the world.

Abbe's classroom

JF: I noticed when visiting your school that you encourage learning inside and outside the classroom…. literally. Can you talk more about what your classroom setup is like?

AF: My science classroom consists of a large room with tables, a carpeted meeting area, and an extensive library. It houses a great collection of natural objects that are on display and available for the children to explore: giant pine cones, bones, rocks, shells, fossils, preserved specimens. It is well equipped with tools and equipment for science exploration and documentation: Microscopes, many kinds of scales, timers, measuring cups, art materials, junk boxes, etc. There are usually some tanks of living things: currently stick bugs, slugs, snails, pillbugs. We are also fortunate to have an outdoor annex as our school garden. It is entered by walking up a few stairs in the classroom and then through a large window. The garden is an organic edibles garden with about sixty planting barrels, a “free digging zone,” a compost pile, and storage sheds. It’s long and thin- about 10′ x 90′.

Abbe's classroom- detail

JF: Earlier you said, “I think teachers need to stay open to their students and to know each one well enough to be awed by him/her and his/her work..” How do you stay open? How has art helped you get to know your students better?

AF: Listening to kids and looking closely at their work without judging is a discipline that requires an open mind. Working in the current high-stakes testing environment, teachers tend to limit their observations by making quick judgments or interpretations. When a child makes something, it is their mark on the world for us to see. I think it is a very pure way of getting to know a young person. I’ve studied archives of a single child’s work over the span of a dozen years and been amazed at how much continuity there is. It’s still surprising to me that people start exploring themes and images from such a young age and keep returning to the ones that resonate.

Image courtesy gnurf.net

Outside of Tyler Green (Modern Art Notes), I am not sure how many contemporary art-lover hockey fans are out there. There may be more, but down deep I think we’re two of just a few.

As I was watching the Devils-Rangers game last night and lamenting over the fact that my interview with Abbe Futterman wasn’t ready to post yet (Abbe gave me so many great photos that I’m still choosing and editing them), it suddenly dawned on me: being a Ranger fan is a lot like teaching with contemporary art. For example….

• Anything can happen, and it will.
• Being prepared is half the battle.
• You’re often anxious.
• People make fun of you, but once in a while you get to laugh back.
• Practically every game (class) is exciting, no matter how much the last one sucked.
• You’re always looking to try something a little different, a little better.
• Carefully timed risks make all the difference.

Maybe being a Ranger fan is a lot like teaching in general?

Tune in next week for my interview with Abbe Futterman, an inspiring teacher at The Earth School in New York who creatively combines the teaching of science and art in her elementary classroom.

Richard Tuttle, "20 Pearls (8)", 2003

To celebrate the New Year and what are now 90 posts for the Teaching with Contemporary Art column here on the Art21 blog, I popped a bottle of champagne, played a quick tune on my kazoo, and then began thinking about what’s next (I was never much for long celebrations, and hey, it was a reeeally quiet New Years Eve). Since this is the first Teaching with Contemporary Art post of the new year, I wanted to let everyone in on some plans for the near future, as well as solicit some ideas for future columns…

First off, I am happy to say that this month the column will feature an interview with Abbe Futterman, an extraordinary science teacher from The Earth School in New York City who not only graduated from Pratt Institute, but also finds innovative ways to incorporate learning science through art. This interview will be part of the current Flash Points theme: How does art respond to and redefine the natural world?

Secondly, I am excited to report that I will be interviewing Tod Lippy, editor of Esopus magazine (which is not really a magazine; it’s more of an artwork in the shape and schedule of a periodical) for a post exploring ways that teachers use art periodicals in their classrooms.

Third, Kidspace at Mass MoCA in North Adams, Massachusetts, will celebrate their 10^th anniversary in March and I am pleased to be attending the festivities in order to report on the work Kidspace has done in the last decade, as well ask questions about the future of museums educating children about, and with, contemporary art.

While this is just a taste of some things in the works, I encourage you to comment on this post to suggest other ideas for the column, other people you’d love to see interviewed, and future events you’d love to see “covered,” as only Teaching with Contemporary Art can. I’ll even bring along the kazoo.

Cheers! Happy New Year! And thank you…

“….in the making and the critiquing there is all of life and there has to be all of life because if you don’t have all of life, then how can you make anything that really has importance?”
- Richard Tuttle