This section contains my reflection on a few key secondary sources that have informed my thinking about the role of writing in design education and shaped my primary research and my intervention.
These are sources about writing in art and design, the role of contextual and historical studies in creative education, the history of design studies, as well as wider debates about the purpose of universities in contemporary society.
A full bibliography of secondary sources can be found below.
Writing Purposefully in Art and Design (Writing PAD), 2004
Lockheart, J., Edwards, H., Raein, M., and Raatz, C. (2004) ‘Writing Purposefully in Art and Design (Writing PAD)’, Art Design & Communication in Higher Education, 3 (n.2), pp. 102.
Any discussion of the role of writing in design, or more broadly, of the role of contextual and theoretical studies in creative practice, cannot overlook the Writing Purposefully in Art and Design (Writing PAD) project initiated at Goldsmith College in London in the early 2000s. This article is one of the first documentations of the project, sketching out its main lines of enquiry, research outcomes and activities.
Now over 20 years old, the article is interesting in so far that it shows that many of the debates about the duality between writing/theory and practice still persist. Indeed, the authors’ reflection about the privileging of rigid ‘academic’ writing formats such as the academic essay or a dissertation, is still very common in art and design education, and a type of work that CTS tutors very much seek to ‘defend’ while at the same time making numerous efforts to make writing more approachable and less intimidating.
In my role as CTS lead over the last 4 years I have witnessed an endless production of writing guides, active writing exercises, co-delivery models with Academic Support and Language Development teams, interactive Padlets, and the like, produced by CTS tutors in a tireless effort to make academic writing easier, more manageable for students. And yet, none (or very few) of these incredibly empathetic, student-centred and engaged tutors were willing to question the adequacy of the academic essay or the dissertation as the ‘thing’ through which students express their theoretical and historical knowledge about art and design. This runs counter to the calls that the Writing PAD authors seem to make when they ask “What kind of practitioner is writing intended to help to produce? A reflective practitioner able to communicate his/her ideas in writing?” (Lockheart, J. et al, 2004, p.95).
At the same time, from the perspective of the Design School at LCC and the way CTS is delivered here, the Writing PAD project also very much shows its age. For example, our teaching is almost never delivered in the ‘seminar room’ or ‘lecture theatre’ but very much happens in the studio, amidst the mess of projects materials and in-progress presentations on the walls. This, of course, is driven by logistics, as much as by pedagogy. We also use ‘active’ learning as a core teaching strategy – students are not there to passively receive ideas through lectures or presentations but to test, sketch, develop their own knowledge in an iterative model that can very much resemble that of the design process. This, it seems, is what this article recommends as good practice in terms of inclusivity form the perspective of disability, international student bodies or mature learners (Lockheart, J. et al, 2004).
By annotating, writing, sketching, collaging, forensically analysing visual sources, and so on, our students are invited to draw on their designers’ toolkit at the same time as they are asked to take a step back from it. What I think is really important in this context, is that CTS provides this space of critical distance from one’s practice – to position their own work in relation to larger historical, cultural or political discourses. This, to me, is the core task of contextual and theoretical studies.
Therefore, I think that Writing PAD project has been really useful in my research project to reinforce the idea that it may be possible or even necessary to move away from academic writing as a ‘thing’ that students do for CTS – as if there were no alternatives. And indeed perhaps even to move away from writing altogether, to instead think of other ways that knowledge can be generated, debated and communicated, with or without words on a page.
The importance of writing as a material practice
Lockheart, J. (2018) ‘The importance of writing as a material practice for art and design students: A contemporary rereading of the Coldstream Reports’, Art, Design & Communication in Higher Education, 17 (no.2), pp.151-175.
Building on the experience of the Writing PAD project, this article was key in nudging me to further question the role of writing with contextual and theoretical studies delivery and assessment. In this article, Lockheart offers a re-reading of the Coldstream reports from 1960 and 1970, that seemed to be central in institutionalising an academic approach to the delivery of historical, theoretical and contextual knowledge in art and design education. Lockheart challenges the ‘misconception’ that ‘Coldstream Reports (Ministry of Education 1960; Department of Education and Science 1970) recommended the humanities style academic thesis or dissertation as a part of the move from the Diploma in Design to DipAD.’ (2018, p.152). In her argument, ‘This is important because it is an assumption that has caused writing to be used as an examinable measure rather than as a tool for learning. The main finding of this article is that there is no recommendation made for students to submit a written thesis or dissertation in either of the Coldstream Reports’ (Lockheart, 2018, p.152).
Instead both reports call for ‘A&D courses [to] include a concurrent Complementary Studies course (15 per cent of the degree mark) for which students are to be examined, but the mode of examination is not stated.’ (Lockheart, 2018, p.152) Why, then, is the dissertation still seen as the only way to justify the ‘degreeness’ of an art & design course? For Lockheart, this is fundamentally shaped by the needs of those teaching and examining those courses, and not rooted in the guidance set out by the reports.
This is the language used in the 1960 report: “All diploma courses should include complementary studies. By these we mean any non-studio subjects, in addition to the history of art, which may strengthen or give breadth to the students’ training. We do not think that any specific subjects should be prescribed. The only criterion that schools should apply is that these studies should be genuinely complementary and helpful to the main object – the study of art. We hope that the complementary studies will give scope for practising written and spoken English whether this is studied as an separate subject or not.” (Ministry of Education 1960: 8 in Lockheart, p.155)
The misconception can, then, be located in a hierarchical view of academic knowledge that positions ‘traditional’ academic skills such as reading and writing above visual literacy or visual communication skills. (Further on this in my reflection on Jenny Rintoul’s work below).
In her rereading of the 1964 Summerson Report, Lockheart, further locates a misconception about the role of writing in art and design education. Writing about Complementary Studies, the Summerson Report states that: “‘The object of these studies is, after all, to encourage insight and understanding rather than the collection of knowledge’ (Summerson Report 1964: para. 52).” For Lockheart, this means that “the position of the Summerson committee was not to encourage the display of evidence of knowledge but evidence of insight and understanding. In my view ‘insight and understanding’ can be evidenced through a multitude of writing practices, indeed through studio practice and degree shows. Had this been proposed at the time the kind of writing that we now see employed by practicing artists and designers would not have been contained within an imposed writing structure, and insight and understanding may have been made manifest in a variety of accompanying texts.” (Lockheart, 2018, p.156)
This is such an interesting insight that might give validity to an alternative approach to the delivery and assessment of contextual and theoretical studies. At the same time, it is quite apparent from my own experience that there is an erosion of historical, theoretical and contextual knowledge in design education and that a further move away from ‘academic’ formats of assessment might compound that marginalisation. With ‘employability’ being the key in contemporary art and design education, the emphasis on technical competency can overshadow ‘softer’ skills and knowledge that cannot always be mobilised effectively in the pursuit of a job as much as a sleek portfolio or a list of digital skills on a CV can.
And yet, students certainly value understanding the history and theory of their discipline, and many of them don’t view education as instrumental (i.e. a step in their pursuit of a career), but see it within an enlightenment framework of education as betterment and personal growth (this was evident both in my interviews with students and looking through NSS data, as well as EE reports for CTS units).
Does this mean that writing must go? Or is writing there as an imperfect but necessary safeguard meant to preserve the historical and theoretical knowledge about art and design that otherwise might disappear from the curriculum?
Jenny Rintoul: Integrating Critical and Contextual Studies in Art and Design
Rintoul, J. (2016) Integrating Critical and Contextual Studies in Art and Design: Possibilities for Post-Compulsory Education, London: Routledge.
Jenny Rintoul’s book on integrating critical and contextual studies (CSS) in art and design has been central to my research for this project. It helped crystalise so many of the conflicting and confusing thoughts I’ve had on the role of writing and the position of CTS (or CSS as she uses in her book) in design education. I’ve ready through most of the book and noted down numerous quotes, so this post will be a commentary on those quotes.
“The Coldstream reforms of the 1960s (discussed in Chapter 1), when ‘theory’ became formalised as a compulsory and discrete element, mark the pivotal moment for CCS as the carrier of status and rigour for art and design education.” (Rintoul, 2016, p.XXII).
Further, Rintoul documents other authors: “While CCS (and its many incarnations) is deemed significant within art and design education, it remains a contentious area of the course: ‘On the issue of what critical and historical studies should be, opinions remain divided’ (Carroll, 2002: 61). Views include those stemming from the Coldstream reforms, whereby ‘under the guise of providing students with contextual frames of reference, the scholarly was used to legitimate the degree status bestowed on the new DipAD qualification’ (Parsons, 1999: 149).” (Rintoul, 2016, p.3)
This highlights the idea that there is a hierarchy of knowledge in art and design education with historical and theoretical studies being the ‘carrier of status’ or conferring the academic degreeness to the study of art and design. This is also at the root of the split between the theory/practice or view that theory does not come within/from practice. Rintoul writes: “As with all binaries, issues of status and hierarchy are embroiled in the theory/practice divide;” (2016, p.23).
Rintoul alerts us to the false dichotomy between theory and practice and argues that this dichotomy comes from the fact that we don’t necessarily have a formalised language or approach to documenting and articulating more situated or tacit forms of knowledge production: “Brighton pointed to this over twenty years ago by suggesting that ‘[art] is a theoretical, intuitive and a material activity’ in which intuition emerges through the repeated integration of theory and practice (1994: 34).” (Rintoul, 2016, p.30); “artistic ‘knowledge’ can be located at the intersection of theory and practice, whereby ‘intuitive’ decisions in the creative process are actually manifestations of expertise and the experience of learning, applying and rehearsing skill.”, (Rintoul, 2016, p.31).
Interestingly, it is precisely to avoid this false hierarchy and dichotomy between the studio and the lecture theatre, theory and practice, academic and intuitive knowledge, that Rintoul argues for academic writing as central to art and design education. I struggle with her argument although I can’t quite articulate why, but also find it compelling. Here is how she puts it: ““Nelson (2013: 46) argues that tacit knowledge is too close to be fully recognised and that it is important to articulate this knowledge. He suggests a move away from the proximal in order to find ways to articulate tacit knowledges in, for example, verbal and written modes. Although it may be met with fears that art work will be confined to alien language systems or practice will be overshadowed by ‘theory’, this is an excellent aim in order to communicate the rigour of these knowledges outside the discipline. This is a means to enable the sharing of knowledge by rendering it accessible and open up possibilities for collaboration with other disciplines through some shared language. Far from being a threat to the identity of practice, these knowledges and languages of ‘theory’ are already embedded in practice itself (as has been argued) and useful in order to expand arts practice.” (Rintoul, 2016, p.28)
This part seems to be key: “this is an excellent aim in order to communicate the rigour of these knowledges outside the discipline” –using academic writing – which then is given higher status – to be able to communicate the value of the discipline to those outside of it. I think I struggle with this slightly because it seems to go counter to the idea of challenging hierarchies and reshaping what the ‘canon’ of knowledge/academic production might be. It seems too obvious not to cite Audre Lorde: The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House.
And yet, there is something compelling about the idea of critique/renegotiation/questioning coming from within – using the tools of academia to show its biases/blind spots and pointing to other ways of doing things. This quote seems to reassert the idea of needing to use some tools that we do have at our disposal while creating new ones: “The lack of a common language to articulate such knowledge or ‘wisdom’ renders it susceptible to being hidden or muted. Perhaps it is the attempt to articulate such knowledge and wisdom that opens up the possibilities of it having a voice.” (Rintoul, 2016, p.31).
Speaking of Universities
Collini, S. (2017) Speaking of Universities, London: Verso
I came to Stefan Collini’s work looking for a framework through which to think about the role of design education in wider society. What is university education? What does its ideal or idealized version look like? What is it for? When thinking about writing, reading, critical thinking, history, theory in the context of an incredibly expensive university degree, where students work multiple jobs and are burdened by student loans, how can these acts of learning that require slowness and do not materialize immediately tangible outcomes or skills be justified? I thought that this was a fairly ‘new’ debate, driven by the marketisation of higher education and in the UK in particular, by incredibly high student fees introduced by the coalition government in 2010.
However, Collini argues that this is only one iteration of a long-standing debate and “tension between the practical ends which society thinks it is furthering by founding or supporting universities, and the ineluctable pull towards open-ended enquiry which comes to shape these institutions over time” (Collini, 2017, p.25)
He describes universities as “partly-protected spaces in which the extension and deepening of understanding takes priority over any more immediate or instrumental purposes. This idea has been powerful and in some ways resilient.” (Collini, 2017, p.233) Debates about the purpose of universities have been shaped, thus, by the tension between what is considered to be socially useful – what kind of skills, knowledge, etc. can universities produce that can be measurably useful in society – and that which is useless – the more long-term, open-ended process of research, knowledge generation and enquiry, that may not have a clear, tangible application in society in the immediate term.
Rather than lamenting the ‘decline of universities’ as many other texts cited by him do, Collini seems to suggest that we need to reshape our understanding of what the purpose of universities is, what do they ‘do’ in society. Collini’s work nudged me to rethink what may be deemed as useful in the context of art and design education. How can we more productively assess the role of design history and theory in the formation of a designer’s future career trajectory? How can we make this knowledge more visible, if we cannot make it measurable, as Collini argues? I think that these are some important prompts that I can draw on in my design intervention to nudge CTS tutors to think differently about the role of CTS in a student’s journey.