RISE • an open letter to my students

 

My Dear Students, June, 2020. •. Remote Learning 

When we rise to face a new day within the whirl of despairing global realities; working and learning within the confines of our house, our rooms, our narrow periphery—it may seem in some strange way that we are spinning in place. Amidst so much unexpected confusion, pain, and sadness, your education experience, for now, has unexpectedly become pixelated and splattered with emotional roller coasters. While you are learning, you are also trying to figure out what is going on in this world, how you fit into it, and what you can do about it. With such varied circumstances, it is certain that some are more directly and deeply affected than others. We wrestle with emotions that are cut deep from the wounds of our families, our friends, our histories. I meet you with as much pep as I can muster because it is difficult for me too—to see you waking these days with tasseled hair, bleary eyes, and with varying degrees of enthusiasm. 

Nevertheless, I try to teach you art—'sculpting' of all things using air-dry clay that we mix with mud found in our backyards. We make animals: frogs and chameleons to be exact. We talk about symbolism and how many cultures around the world consider them to be totems of renewal. I hope in some small way these experiences will bring you closer to nature and provide you with a brief moment of peace. We find, however, that woven between the solace and play of creating you must also face your mistakes, trial and error cycles, frustrations, smoothing out bumps, and repairing deep and superficial cracks. We pull in strategies not least of which is a sense of humor and a willingness to accept that we are all trying to do the best that we can. You notice that this process holds a mirror up to life. And, because of what I know about Art, I want you to believe, as I believe—in the magic of Art; in the power and language of aesthetics; and in the alchemy of materials. I want you to notice that turning a malleable blob of clay into something imaginative can open your heart to sensations that have nothing to do with pixels—yet, has everything to do with the nature of your Spirit, with touch, with experiencing the world and what it actually means to take an intelligent, heartfelt creative leap that translates your emotions into form. 

As your last pieces take shape and find their place in the Schoology Album, I am touched and proud to see that you have learned so much. I hope if not now, then sometime in the future when you look back on this historical time and talk about it with your families, friends, children, nieces, and nephews you will also think of some of these experiences and how our Land Art video moved so many people with your sentiments and our Once Upon a Time: in the Land of the Frogs video made people smile when we all needed that the most. I hope you also enjoy the culminating video I just finished for you called Rise: Ceramics I-IV, 2020! Art can heal. I know this from the depth of my soul. I appreciate sharing this time with you and I am so moved by your willingness to learn under these very surreal and horrendous circumstances. May you stay strong, healthy, and kind—and may you always remain open to learning new things. 

With much Love and Peace to you All, Ms. O.

ART = LIFE

ART = LIFE

Michele Ogilvie, MFA; Upper School Visual Art Faculty: Ceramics/Sculpture

 

A very long time ago, let’s say roughly 35,000 years the hands of a cave-dweller created the first known Zoomorphic sculpture that has been named Lion-Man of Hohlenstein-Stadel.  The 1939 discovery of this roughly twelve-inch-tall hand-carved mammoth-tusk ritual object, as wells as over 200 stone Venus figurines from various parts of the world allows us a glimpse into humankind’s earliest examples of creative, symbolic expression. Artifacts carved, sculpted, and painted by anonymous individuals throughout history not only hold the legacy of human life on Earth but also reveal our collective search for meaning, aesthetics, and utility. Art is the guardian of our heritage, our cultures, rituals, beliefs, and curiosities. It is the common language that escorts us through historic doorways to our present musings and future contemplation.

At the level of learning to make art in school, it is often thought of as an elective, an activity that is fun and a welcomed distraction from academics. It is of course all of these things. Yet, when an individual or group dedicates their life to self-expression such as the diversity of artists that students learn about in our K-12 Visual Art classes, it has reached a level of commitment that allows us to see the greater scope of what art is, how it reflects history and culture, and how a valued artist comes to be.  

On a philosophical level, I ask my students to consider the many ways in which we view the world around us and how these perceptions are shaped by our individual and collective experiences. We take note of the many things that shape a life and a personality including one’s family, culture, opportunities, economics, politics, religion, and social media.  It becomes clear that we are constantly and inescapably navigating the expectations and dynamics of both chosen and chance circumstances.  Our purpose calls on each of us to reach towards our greatest good; to allow for mistakes, to let go of perfection, to be kind to ourselves and others—to acknowledge that we are all here on this planet—to learn, and sometimes—to forgive.

We view art as we view life. Art in all of its various forms reflects life. Art brings us closer to the authentic expression of humankind’s survival, determination, and resilience. If you understand art—you understand connections and abstractions—as art is, at its highest—a manifestation of personalized thoughts and feelings into form. It is that way with music, poetry, painting, and sculpture—in all things that channel the heart through the hand or the voice. Art on a psychological level can also serve as a map to the subconscious—the subconscious of an individual, as well as that of a society.

When teaching about art and artists from around the world I ask my students to consider not only such things as form, surface, craftsmanship, and aesthetics—but also about each artist’s experiences, obstacles, and choices. We respectfully acknowledge the privilege of peeking into their stories, their shadows and their souls. To present one’s art can sometimes feel like sharing a secret. What does an artist’s creative work tell you about their life? How do you feel about their story?