List of Work Completed

Section One: Classic Educational Philosophies

John Dewey, Education and Experience, full text
John Dewey, Art as Experience, select chapters:
-Chapter One: “The Live Creature”
-Chapter Two: “The Live Creature and ‘Etherial Things’”
-Chapter Three: “Having an Experience”

Section Two: Contemporary Educational Theories

AAM Webinar, “Understanding the Life Stages of Museum Visitors”
Chip Heath and Dan Heath, Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die

Section Three: Principles of Visual Thinking Strategies
Resources found at http://www.vtshome.org/pages/vts-downloads

"Introduction to Visual Thinking Strategies" by VUE staff

“Basic VTS at a Glance” by Abigail Housen and Philip Yenawine

"Jump-Starting Visual Literacy" by Philip Yenawine

“A Brief Guide to Developmental Theory and Aesthetic Development” by Karin DeSantis and Abigail Housen

“Art Viewing and Aesthetic Development: Designing for the Viewer” by Abigail Housen

“A Conversation on Object-Centered Learning in Art Museums” by Philip Yenawine and Danielle Rice

"Aesthetic Thought, Critical Thinking and Transfer” by Abigail C. Housen

Article in Review: "Aesthetic Thought, Critical Thinking and Transfer" by Abigail C. Housen

This article, out of all of the articles I have read for this independent study, was a complete dud in terms of educational interest and development. There were a few key points that are worth mentioning, and I will take the rest of this post to discuss these things.

Abigail C. Housen has confirmed through research that there is a relationship between the Visual Thinking Strategies curriculum that she has created and the development and use of critical thinking skills throughout a range of life experiences. Through a longitudinal study conducted in 1993, Housen has confirmed that along with accelerating the pace of an individual's aesthetic growth VTS also "causes the growth of critical thinking and enables its transfer to other contexts and content" (100-101). These critical thinking skills include the following: reflection, decision-making, active looking skills, the ability to change one's mind, ability to work in groups, "to observe carefully, evaluate, synthesize, and justify and speculate," among other things (101).

Dewey himself articulated the importance of developing these skills through educational endeavors. He said that the role of education was to develop "effective habits of discriminating tested beliefs from mere assertions, guesses, and opinions [...] sincere, and open-minded preference for conclusions that are properly grounded, and [...] methods of inquiry and reasoning appropriate to the various problems that present themselves" (101).

Along with developing these critical thinking skills, Housen discovered that they transfer to our daily lives both contextually and through content. Context Transfer relates to "critical thinking strategies in a social setting different from the one in which such thinking was originally learned," while content transfer refers to using critical thinking skills within a different subject matter (106-107). Context Transfer also occurs earlier than Content Transfer (11).

So, what can all of this teach us museum educators? Does it teach us that we cannot count out VTS as a means of developing critical thinking skills? Or, does it simply teach us that developing critical thinking skills is a necessary part of learning in art museums? Surely, VTS assists in developing these necessary skills; this I do not doubt. However, as mentioned in the previous post, is this truly the sole goal of education in art museums? Is it better placed in academic settings? Should our visitors come to our museums with these skills already developed? Couldn't we go farther in terms of learning potential if this were the case? Is it our job to teach art or a way of looking at art? Does it even matter if the viewer learns in some capacity?

In the end, I am left to ponder the following questions: What is the purpose of a museum? What is the purpose of museum education? What is the purpose of art museum education? These are the issues we need to address before claiming to accomplish effective learning in our museums.

Article in Review: "A Conversation on Object-Centered Learning in Art Museums" by Danielle Rice and Philip Yenawine

When I asked my internship advisor what she thought about VTS, she immediately handed over to me this article (of which I already possessed) and told me I needed to read it. Although she seemed to straddle the line between loving and hating VTS, the impression she gave me was that it was valuable to ponder the pros and cons of this strategy of viewing art objects. In the following text, I will outline and discuss both sides of the argument through the writings of Danielle Rice and Philip Yenawine.

Philip Yenawine, the Pros of Visual Thinking Strategies:

-Yenawine is interested in students developing “viewing skills,” or observational skills, the ability to probe, the ability to find a multitude of meanings, an appreciate for ambiguity, and the willingness to be open to things that are unfamiliar (1+9).

-Because he believes that visitors to museums often do not have the art historical knowledge to inform their viewing, he focuses on what visitors think about art rather than what objects say (2).

-“I often seek to grasp what people already know that I can help them use to begin to decode unfamiliar work” (2).

-Teachers should act as facilitators, having their students be active participants by asking questions, not telling answers (3).

-The process, or VTS, that Yenawine teaches eliminates “information surround,” or facts and opinions about an image that are not visually realized in a work, such as biographical information on an artist (3).

-“What I want is for beginners to make a serious connection with art, gain a sense of confidence about drawing meaning from anything unfamiliar, and have a way to go about digging into objects that doesn’t require my presence. I am looking for those I teach to become self-sufficient—as quickly as possible” (4).

-Yenawine rarely corrects the misunderstandings of his students because he feels that connecting to art starts from looking at it in an active fashion (4).

-Meaning occurs in viewers when they have repeated meaningful encounters with art, rather than having a conversation with someone who knows much more (5).

-Meaning-making comes naturally when individuals have the opportunity to simply view works of art and have the freedom to observe and question its visual properties(8).


Danielle Rice, the Cons of Visual Thinking Strategies:

-VTS gathers ideas but does not create active dialogue among students (5).

-A teacher’s role is to share their experiences and perspective on art to their students. Information validates a student’s response and encourages them to continue to critique and analyze (6).

-Rice’s teaching method combines viewers’ initial responses to a work of art with carefully chosen information that the teacher presents. Here, the act of linking information is imperative (6).

-Rice claims that teachers have the responsibility to inspire their students to continue to progress cognitively, meaning that teachers must “develop the learners’ ‘cognitive dissonance’ [or] the awareness that one way of perceiving may not be enough for understanding a particular object…” (4). This happens through the process of providing information.

-Rice subscribes to the “seduction theory,” meaning that “the best thing a museum teacher can do for visitors is to help them interact with the object in such a way that they get seduced into wanting to look more closely and to know more. Information plays an important role…” (5).


WHAT DO I THINK?

What I think is very interesting about this dilemma is that it really comes down to the difference between teaching through art or teaching about art (8). As an art museum educator in training, I see these as being two very distinct and different goals--both being extremely important in our world of education within cultural institutions.  The adherence to one of these goals simply depends upon an institution's overall educational goals. I understand the benefits of VTS as described by Yenawine above; however, I think the responsibility of art museum's isn't simply to develop a full range of "developmental skills" as Yenawine claims. Surely, this should be integrated into what we do at our museums, but it shouldn't be the entire story. No matter the method used, our ultimate goal should be allowing individuals to learn about the art that they see on a deeper level than they would experience on their own--whether that be through VTS or some other experience.

What I view as the perfect compromise between Rice's and Yenawine's positions is to utilize art as the springboard to delve into more important art historical points.  In this way, I think the Denver Art Museum has it right. In their tours, as mentioned previously, the visual elements of the works of art on display serve as the starting points for conversations about the deeper meanings of a work of art---this includes art historical information. Ample time and energy is spent on giving validation to the point of view of visitors. In any case, this type of learning allows for an appreciation for the experience of looking at a work and the information that goes along with it.

In the end, I believe if art museum's use the most accessible part of art-the visual elements of a work-to probe deeper into a work's meaning then Yenawine's process of developing "visual skills" naturally develops. 

Stages of Aesthetic Development by Abigail Housen

Articles in Review:

1)"A Brief Guide to Developmental Theory and Aesthetic Development" by Karin DeSantis and Abigail Housen

2)"Art Viewing and Aesthetic Development: Designing for the Viewer" by Abigail Housen

During the 1970s, Abigail Housen researched what she would later term aesthetic development, or the way in which individuals develop their capacities for processing visual stimuli. Through her studies, she has developed five stages of aesthetic development that she claims are patterns of behavior that cross both cultural and socioeconomic boundaries. These stages show that individuals process visual imagery in a set sequence, and that through frequent encounters with carefully crafted sequences of art these individuals can process visual information in a predictable manner. Each stage has a set of attributes that links to attributes in the other stages of aesthetic development, while they also correlate to the amount of time individuals have spent viewing works of art. It is important to mention that a person at any age that lacks experience viewing works of art will always start at Stage 1. Exposing oneself to art is the only way to develop one's aesthetically receptive portions of their mind. Each stage is equally important.

The Stages of Aesthetic Development are as follows:

1) Stage One: ACCOUNTIVE (Most individuals are in this stage or stage 2)

Accountive viewers tend to be individuals who tell stories or make lists. When viewing a work of art, they make simple, concrete observations using their senses, experiences, and memories. These observations generally are woven into a narrative form, where the viewer enters the work of art. Emotions infuse their comments on works of art, as their judgments are based upon what they know and like.

2) Stage Two: CONSTRUCTIVE (Most individuals are in this stage or stage 1)

Constructive viewers use their own perceptions of, knowledge of, and values of their world to build frameworks for looking at art. Their observations as always made from concrete details in a work. Because these viewers rely upon what they deem realistic to determine value, if a work does not live up to the way in which these viewers suppose an image should be crafted they judge it to be strange and lacking of value. Although at this stage viewers have an increased interest in the artist's intentions for creating a piece, they begin to distance themselves emotionally from works of art.

3) Stage Three: CLASSIFYING

Classifying viewers begin to be critical of works of art, as they take on the role of the analytical station of art historians. They identity works of art based upon school, style, time, technique, place and provenance, and they dig deeper into these works by using their knowledge of the facts and figures of art history. They want to know everything they can possibly know about an artist and his body of work. Ultimately, this viewer believes that if they can categorize a work correctly based upon their knowledge of art history then that work's meaning will become rationalized.

4) Stage Four: INTERPRETIVE

Interpretive viewers seek to interact with art as they strive to find and cherish the subtle elements of a work. As a result, viewers let the underlying meanings (what it symbolizes) of the work come forward. The critical skills dominant in previous stages are now at the service of intuition and feelings. New perspectives and insights emerge with each encounter with a work of art. Since these viewers understand and value the process of reinterpreting art, they see their own ideas as vulnerable to change.

5) Stage Five: RE-CREATIVE

Re-creative viewers are "willing to suspend disbelief," as they now view works of art as old friends who they know in detail but who they know remain full of surprises. Although they acknowledge that artworks have a life of their own, they also feel strongly connected to them due to their understanding of its history. They begin to look at art with a child-like openness. As Housen states, "this viewer combines personal contemplation with views that broadly encompass universal concerns. Here, memory infuses the landscape of the painting, intricately combining the personal and the universal" (DeSantis and Housen 11).

What are the educational implications of aesthetic development?

Housen's theory on aesthetic development and her articulation of this in the five stages described above most certainly parallel the work of Lev Vygotsky, particularly his acknowledgement of the zone of proximal development. "...what Housen's studies have shown is that teaching anything but what the students are on the verge of learning or what is within their 'zone of proximal development' will not become operational to the student" (DeSantis and Housen 12). I find this to be of particular worth. As Housen states, "Education is about providing a taste of the next, proximal way of thinking (Housen 13). In this mode of teaching/facilitating, the learner is placed within a situation where the potential for further learning is positioned directly in front of him/her. The environment is tailored to their learning potential based upon the images chosen.

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Let's take a look at what Housen says about the role of the teacher:

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"The teacher's role is not so much to impart fact, or manage drill and practice, but to facilitate the learner's process of discovery. The teacher enables development by creating and managing a supportive learning environment that encourages learners to discover new ways to find answers to their own questions, to construct meaning, to experience, and to reason about what they see. The act of constructing meaning cannot be something taught; the learner must discover his meaning on his own" (Housen 14).

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This focus on developing skills within one's students that serve to facilitate and encourage the learner's ability to discover and probe undoubtedly proves value to us as museum educators. Is this not what we are striving to create? Are we not striving to build skills within our visitors that provide the foundation for life-long learning? Perhaps, we are looking for more than that--to provide information (more on that in the next post). Regardless, we cannot neglect the importance of developing the baseline skills that later serve to create meaningful museum visits for our audience members.

Article in Review: "A Brief Guide to Developmental Theory and Aesthetic Development" by Karin DeSantis and Abigail Housen

Before I describe the stages of aesthetic development as defined by Abigail Housen, it is imperative to take a look back at earlier developmental theories that have paved the way for such a categorization of behaviors in terms of visual properties.

Developmental theory is grounded in the knowledge that learning occurs as a result of individuals interacting with their environment (people, people's behavior, objects, products of the natural world, etc.) and reflecting upon this interaction (2). Experience is the catalyst for learning; individuals learn by understanding the world around them and the experiences had within this world. "In other words, for learning to occur, an individual does something, experiences and thinks about the results of the action (including verbal 'actions'), and decides what these results mean to her/him" (2).

Ultimately, the search for knowledge occurs when an individual encounters "some kind of dissonance--when individuals see something that they do not understand or cannot do, or when a strategy on which they rely does not achieve the desired goal" (3). The process of understanding can be linked to a process of

a) assimilation (taking in information from experiences and then applying it); and
b) accommodation (changing existing mental strategies as a result of new perceptions within one's environment).

The process of development call equilibration is the way one seeks to resolve the conflicts between existing perceptions of the world or ways of thinking about the world and the information presented by new experiences (4).

The concepts of assimilation, accommodation, and equilibration all neatly fall in line with the principles set forth by Dewey. It is by previous experiences that our current experiences gain form, color, and meaning.

Piaget:

Jean Piaget's theories on cognitive development find their articulation in a sequence of stages. These stages:

1) are in a predictable, measurable order;
2) are equally important;
3) have their own unique characteristics;
4) each bring a new level of thought and meaning; and
5) are contiguous, meaning that individuals move from one stage to the next, never skipping any single stage (5).

The four main stages Piaget defines in the cognitive development of children are as follows (5-6):

1) Sensori-motor Stage: Ages 0-2 years. At this stage, infants understand the world strictly by using their senses, through their movement, and seeing how these two sources of knowledge relate to one another. Children learn by taking action on physical things, usually repeating their actions in the process of attempting to control that experience (5).

2) Pre-operational Stage: Ages 2-7 years. During this stage children move away from only relying upon their senses and movement to using symbols and words as they develop the skill of representation. Words, especially, replace actions and things that are not physically present. Children at this stage use imaginative play. They also lack the cognitive ability to place themselves in another's shoes.

3) Concrete-Operational Stage: Ages 7-12 years. Abstract thought on real experiences is the hallmark of this cognitive stage. The catalyst for this capacity to exercise abstract thought is always physical objects.

4) Formal-Operational Stage: Ages 12+. The adolescent at this stage begins thinking in terms of the hypothetical, can speculate, and thinks in terms of ideas rather than just physical objects. Egocentrism, or the lack of "the cognitive flexibility to take someone else's position," has passed, as the adolescent can now view things from another's perspective (6).

Certainly, the theories set by Piaget inform our understanding of how children develop cognitively. Knowing these stages of development can not only help VTS facilitators to select images that will target the cognitive behaviors dominant for a certain age group but it also can assist facilitators in understanding the responses generated by their audience. As with any educational endeavor, the more you understand the cognitive composition of your students, the better able you will be in teaching in a way that has meaningful influence both intellectually and emotionally.

Vygotsky:

Lev Vygotsky, rather than studying how children come to think, focused his research on how other individuals in a child's life can contribute to their intellectual growth--what is called the social development theory. For Vygotsky, all learning starts with the interaction of a child and those individuals who are the primary people in his/her life (parents and teachers). In order for learning to occur, facilitated interactions must happen between the child and one of the central people in his/her life. Initially, the child simply observes these interactions, but in time he/she takes in these interactions and they become components of the strategies by which he/she lives (7).

Over time, as a child continues to encounter and perform behaviors seen around them, they develop mental scripts to guide their social interactions. Learning then occurs first on a social plane (interpersonal) and then on a personal plane (intrapersonal) as the child begins to verbalize his/her experiences. "This process leads finally to learning that is no longer wholly dependent on interactions, but also requires that the individual be able to reflect on a range of her/his existing 'menus' or cognitive strategies" (7).

Vygotsky also claimed that learning generally occurs when a problem "is both within the range of an individual's existing capabilities and involves the support or assistance of an adult or more capable peer" (8). What Vygotsky labeled the zone of proximal development is the distance between where a child actually is developmentally and that child's potential developmental level.

Vygotsky's theories, more so than Piaget's in my opinion, apply very clearly and closely to the work done in VTS lessons. The idea that facilitated interactions can succeed in creating mental guidelines for behavior seems of vast importance. The zone of proximal development is thereby a tool through which VTS facilitators can map out a group's learning potential (perhaps too hard to target a single individual) and strive to obtain some progress. Once again, the only stumbling block here is coming to an understanding of the cognitive composition of a child or group at a given moment, so as to make movement forward developmentally. Can this be done in a VTS lesson? If so, how?

Some Inspiring Quotes on Effective Teaching

"It makes sense, then, for those of us who are particularly invested in the value of art to maximize any opportunity and to teach in such a way as to increase capacities--and indeed maintain the openness with which naive viewers begin."

-Philip Yenawine

"In the arts as well as elsewhere in education, the best teacher is not the one who deals out all he knows or who withholds all he could give, but the one who, with the wisdom of a good gardener, watches, judges, and helps out when help is needed."

-Rudolf Arnheim

The quotes above perfectly sum up two important characteristics of teaching--both of which have immense implications for our work within museums. They are:

1) Maintaining Openness and
2) Being a Careful Observer/Facilitator

In the first quotation presented here, we are introduced to a teacher whose focus is to amplify existing traits within their students, maximize the opportunities surrounding their students, and to maintain a sense of freedom, comfort, and exploration among the environment in which their students are placed. Particularly important is this last trait--maintaining openness--for it is only when we as teachers continually present to our students an atmosphere of inclusion, discovery, and risk that our students truly take the steps necessary to fill that void with their own creative energies. Our students cannot progress into an arena of self-generated creativity if we do not allow space for them to move, investigate, and map out their own terrain. In our museums, we must give permission and grant access to the body of knowledge we hold in order that those we teach can see new ground to explore, manipulate, categorize and define.

The second quotation reminds us that we take a backseat to the process our students go through in order to get to their desired educational end. Yes, we play a key role in providing room for our students to move intellectually, but how they move is up to them. We can guide them on their journey, blocking certain pathways so as to set them on a course to success. We can certainly set parameters; however, the organic movement of our students within that space is of the most important worth. Surely, the end product of learning is a desirable and admirable goal, but the process of learning can hold power far greater than any concrete knowledge can.

Article in Review: "Jump-Starting Visual Literacy" by Philip Yenawine

Now that we know the process of conducting a VTS lesson, what types of imagery are appropriate to develop this method of learning? Where do you begin to look for images that would be appropriate for this type of visual investigation? Yenawine parallels this process of choosing objects for visual consideration with the process of choosing books for early readers: they must be what the viewers are ready for developmentally as well as being full of inherently intriguing subject matter. Essentially, it is about "supplying the right challenge at the right time" (2). If the ultimate goal of this type of exercise is to cultivate within students a "solid rapport with art based on direct, personal connections," the images we choose to present to them should be ones that serve to best stimulate ongoing development/growth (2).

What Yenawine has termed visual literacy, or the ability to use one's eyes to learn, has been noted by psychologist Rudolf Arnheim as being a habit that is developed at a very young age. Infants begin to recognize and categorize the visual stimuli that they take in. Jean Piaget claimed that the ability to do this comes from an individual's interaction with the physical, concrete environment (2). Indeed, the importance of visual literacy need not be justified further, yet it is clear that the earlier these skills are developed and honed, the better individuals will be able to make sense of the visual world around them and appreciate these surrounding as they get older. The implication here is that if we as museum professionals want to maintain and increase our audience numbers we need to be making the efforts with our younger population now in order to cultivate these skills that will perhaps cause them to become advocates for the cause of the arts and its visual properties.

One's interaction with the physical world--especially that of art--is not a uniform experience. By this, I mean to say that not all visuals create the same level of accessibility to the meaning of their creation. As a result, we must look at the categories mentioned below in order to be better prepared to select images for our VTS lessons that aid in the process of viewing works that address the needs of our viewers as well as providing them with age-appropriate challenges.

1) Accessibility: Beginning viewers, like Dewey claimed long ago, tend to understand what they encounter in the world based upon what they already know to be true. Past experiences and prior knowledge undeniably affect how we view reality in the present moment. Beginning viewers seek after narratives within art, and their viewpoints on a given work often are rooted in their personal life experiences. Given this knowledge, accessibility of art images is necessary. Viewers must be able to recognize what they see, as well as make connections between what they see and their existing knowledge base.

Accessible imagery is needed at every stage of visual literacy--from beginners to "experts." Viewers must be given the opportunity to uncover intended meanings by themselves. Images must always allow for "successful interpretation, without expert intervention" (4). By doing so, viewers begin to realize that art can be understood to a certain, meaningful degree by observation, analysis, and association. They gain confidence in the presence of artworks they are not familiar with.

On a more practical side, images must include identifiable elements, such as familiar people, places, emotions, interactions, etc. (4).

2) Captivation: Just like anything else, images should be selected with a specific group of individuals in mind, so as to target images that will peak their curiosity and maintain their interest (5).

3) Expressive Content: Images selected for VTS purposes must be open to interpretation, meaning that they should contain various meanings. This range of possible viewpoints allows for the process of VTS to truly take form. As Yenawine states, "the more a work is open to interpretation, the more likely the viewer's intuitions will be plausible--that is, within range of the artist's or culture's intentions" (5).

4) Narrative: As mentioned before, beginning viewers tend to search for narratives in art and will even go so far as to advocate for their existence even if one isn't there. Therefore, facilitators of VTS lessons should cater to this tendency by selecting images that contain a story waiting to be found, one that is intended by the artist. Things to look for in images include: "stopped action, dialogues, and pregnant moments, often found in "genre" scenes and images of family, play and work" (5)

5) Diversity: It is important for beginning viewers to experience finding meaning in art that is from a diverse range of times and cultures. This diversity fosters flexibility in terms of visual literacy. This is the point in time where viewers look beyond their previous knowledge and experiences into realms of the unfamiliar. Variety also "allows for more people to find their interests, preferences and backgrounds represented" (5).

6) Realism: Stylistically, realistic images are the most accessible for beginning audiences (6).

7) Media: Paintings, figurative sculpture, drawings and prints, and photography all serve as excellent media for VTS imagery. Photography in particular is most useful because it provides an entryway into understanding the process of what artists do: beginning viewers all know what it is like to use a camera. They can then consider an artist's artistic decisions because they could easily place themselves in the artist's shoes (6).

8) Subjects: Genre paintings, narrative images, landscapes, portraits, etc. are all good choices for VTS lessons. It should be mentioned that not all of these categories will be accessible to all viewers (7).

9) Sequences: Images should be sequenced from simple to the most complex. "Simpler images" are defined as those that provide a finite number of meanings with fewer visual stimuli within its composition. More complex images contain a level of ambiguity. Meaning is conveyed through style, material, and symbolism rather than subjects or iconography (7).

10) Series/Themes: For beginners, images should be placed in a series tied together by a common concrete theme such as play rather than more abstract concepts such as sadness or happiness (7).

After reading through these ten suggestions for choosing the appropriate imagery to use in a VTS session, I came to the realization that they boil down to three key points. First, participants in these lessons must have a means of access to the material being presented. Some ways of doing so have been listed above; however, the most important idea here is that individuals feel a sense of place and belonging in this process. They must realize through both the structure of VTS, the facilitator's behavior, and the nature of the imagery itself that they are welcome with whatever level of visual literacy that they have. Second, there must be an atmosphere of openness that allows these individuals to freely contribute to the process without feeling intimidated or seeing barriers to their creative flow. Lastly, the imagery presented must in some way allow for individuals to go beyond what is familiar to them, thereby entering a world of the unknown and creating new avenues of thought for future investigations/life experiences.

Here is a list of things to avoid (7-8):

1) Avoid imagery that requires prior specialized knowledge for beginning viewers.

2) Avoid religious, mythological, historical, or cultural-specific imagery in which there are "correct answers" as judged by experts in the field.

3) Avoid cartoons, advertisements, and illustrations, for they generally hold only one interpretation.

4) Avoid images depicting violence, political stances, sexuality, sensuality, grotesque subject matter, and religious imagery since they may conflict with the values of the viewers and disrupt the meaning-making process.

5) Avoid abstractions. As mentioned above, beginning viewers tend to place narratives within imagery where the artist intends none.

6) Avoid still lives, architecture, and the decorative arts. They are difficult to understand and create meaning for because they are generally based on more abstract issues of space, proportion, etc.

The most important lesson to learn here, from my perspective, is that we cannot expect our students to get excited about reaching outside of themselves if we don't allow them opportunities to do so. This means that the images we present must not only be full of multiple meanings but it also suggests that our facilitators have the responsibility of conveying this to their students. Having definite answers blocks creative flow and can also hinder our students abilities to step outside of their comfort zone.

Specific Considerations for Younger Viewers (10-11):

1) Images should be active, fairly sparse, filled with people or animals, contain an individual or a small group of individuals, contain equal gender and racial representation, have familiar activities or emotions, depict values shared by students, have clear settings, a sense of timelessness, and be cheerful and positive colored images.

2) The techniques found in these images should be somewhat realistic. Paintings, drawings (kids use this media!), photographs, and folk art are appropriate.

3) Diversity in the imagery should be minimal, with about 25% of the composition containing the "other." Works for other cultures should be very similar in appearance to the ones familiar to the students. Egyptian, Asian, and Islamic art are all possible options.

4) Themes may include the following: play, family, school, work, love, seasons, city, day/night, etc.

Article in Review: “Basic VTS at a Glance” by Abigail Housen and Philip Yenawine

In this blog post, I find it necessary to outline the process of conducting a VTS lesson since this happens to be an entirely new concept for me. The steps are as follows:

1) Start the lesson by introducing the concept of VTS to your students--that it allows them to examine art, contribute their observations, and form informed opinions based upon the visual (among numerous other things).

2) Direct your students' attention to the first image. Allow ample time for them to look at the piece in silence, examining what they see.

3) The facilitator then need only use variations on the following three questions:

a. What’s going on in this picture?

b. What do you see that makes you say that? This question is used whenever students make comments that involve a level of interpretation rather than mere identification or physical observations. Teachers/Facilitators should first respond by paraphrasing the student's statement and then ask the question above. Students should also be asked to back up their interpretations with visual evidence.

c. What else can you find? This question should be frequently asked in order to keep the students active in the process of searching out further observations.

4) Conclude the lesson by acknowledging that viewing art is a continuous process that is subjective and open-ended. VTS lessons should be between 12-20 minutes.


ROLE OF THE TEACHER/FACILITATOR:

1) Teachers do not act as experts of the knowledge being presented; rather, they act as facilitators of their students' process of discovering and making meaning.

2) Teachers must be active listeners throughout the entire process. Understanding with accuracy your students' responses is key in keeping the experience authentic and meaningful for your students.

3) Teachers should point to the specific area of the image that their student is commenting upon.

4) Teachers should use appropriate body language and facial expressions to encourage their students to participate.

5) Teachers should strive to paraphrase each comment given by their students instead of repeating their exact words. The meaning of a student's comment should not be altered during this process.

6) Each student-generated comment should be accepted neutrally, meaning that the teacher should not favor one answer over another. This process is about "emphasizing a useful pattern of thinking, not right answers" (2).

7) If questions are asked by the students, teachers should first have the students themselves figure out the answer by looking at the image being presented to them. Only as a last resort should teachers give the answer.

8) Last but not least, teachers should strive to link converging and diverging ideas in order to demonstrate to their students the way in which thinking can evolve, how observations/ideas can feed off of each other, and how opinions change over time (2).

Guess Who Comes Crawling Back...Dewey!

“They [students] are first encouraged to find meaning based on their past experience (legitimizing what they know)…after a certain amount of experience—at the point that they begin to become dissatisfied with their own limitations—they are asked to develop their own voices…” (2).

I really feel a strong attachment to this quote. Perhaps, it is because--yet again!--it harkens back to Dewey's philosophy on the importance of previous knowledge in the construction of new experiences and cognitive frameworks for viewing the world. What resonates with me is this idea that experiencing visual stimuli first has meaning because it is placed within the context of our past experiences and that it legitimizes what we know. I find it comforting that by looking we can solidify, justify, and in some way find a semblance of pride in the things of the world we have already come to know as "true and real." I believe one true joy of educating is that we can provide opportunities for our students to validate themselves in the form of validating their knowledge or at least the process of how they come to know what they know. There is great power there, a power that we cannot and must not ignore.

Yet, a greater power lies in the construction of new knowledge based upon new stimuli. I find it intriguing that the point in which we veer off the path of comfort and stability in the construction of our knowledge is the point in which we become dissatisfied with what we presently know. Is there a way to calculate when this process happens for our students? If so, how can we use that to our advantage? How can we harness that energy to make for more meaningful new experiences?

Visual Thinking Strategies

The time has now come to turn to another topic of discussion for this independent study: Visual Thinking Strategies. The following blog posts will revolve around a series of articles found at http://www.vtshome.org/pages/vts-downloads.

Article in Review: “Introduction to Visual Thinking Strategies” by VUE staff

Visual Thinking Strategies, commonly known simply as VTS, is a visual arts program that is “founded on the premise that finding meaning in works of visual art involves a rich range of thinking skills” (1). Learning occurs through the process of self-discovery within the framework of a facilitated discussion through which a myriad of cognitive functions become activated. Ideally, over time students become “thorough, probing, reflective interpreters” as opposed to casual viewers of various works of art, which translates into them heightening their visual fluency of their surroundings on a day to day basis (2). Ultimately, students dictate the course of their learning as well as the knowledge absorbed within this context.

Some of my personal favorite elements that VTS encourages are the following:

1) To create a personal connection between a student and a work of art.
2) To gain confidence in constructing one’s own meaning from a work of art.
3) To have active discussions.

These three particular goals stuck a cord with me because of the implication that students contain the power to designate and act on the pathway of knowledge they deem worthy of their time. Goal number one seeks to create an inclusive environment in which the student and the artwork join together in the construction of knowledge. Goal number two formally hands over the power of creating meaning to the viewer/student. Goal number three provides the way for the previous two goals to occur. The value placed upon an individual novice’s ability to contribute to their own learning process is entirely too attractive to pass up in a field that unfortunately can be dominated by the oppressive opinions of “experts.”

For some time now I have been aware of the existence of VTS, but have not formally educated myself in its proper techniques or investigated the pros and cons of this type of visual learning. Only recently have I personally become aware of the benefit of using visual stimuli to generate conversations of interesting with visitors to the Denver Art Museum. One of the core features of the education department at the DAM is its focus on creating opportunities for the visitor to respond to the information they are taking in visually. For many of the pieces of art on display, Master Teachers in various areas of art history (appointed members of the education staff) have written what are called "Taking with Visitors Papers" that serve as materials for docents. These documents place great emphasis on revealing possible meanings for a work through its visual components. In essence, the visuals act as catalysts for conversations that inevitably trace back to questions revolving around the meaning of the piece. By using these as instruments to guide tours, docents become facilitators of the conversations the visitors begin by calling attention to what they see. Brilliant.

So, although at the moment I know very little about VTS, the idea of using visuals to generate conversations of value is obviously of substantial worth to us as museum educators. Why is that? I would say because visuals are accessible to all, they provide a common entryway into a piece, and because of that they seem to be nonthreatening ways to analyze a work. Here the visitor takes center stage in the construction of knowledge without too much anxiety that they are giving the "wrong answer." In a sense, what they see is always correct.

Chapter 7: What Sticks

Here are some important ideas to think about in relation to the 6 principles of sticky ideas described in previous posts:

1) Your audience gets a vote: Remember that when creating sticky ideas your audience always has a say. What you intend might not come to fruition. Your audience might alter your message. One thing to always keep in your mind is whether or not your audience’s alterations to your message are still core. As the Heaths say, “Ultimately, the test of our success as idea creators isn’t whether people mimic our exact words; it’s whether we achieve our goals” (240).

2) Spot creative ideas: “If you’re a great spotter, you’ll always trump a great creator. Why? Because the world will always produce more great ideas than any single individual, even the most creative one” (242).

3) In order to make your ideas stick in a useful and long-term fashion, you need to make your audience:

a. Pay Attention (Unexpected)
b. Understand and Remember It (Concrete)
c. Agree/Believe (Credible)
d. Care (Emotional)
e. Be Able to Do It (Stories)

This framework perfectly lines up with the SUCCESs framework described throughout this blog. Notice the absence of Simple; it is necessary throughout the entire process (relating to core message).

To conclude my comments on Made to Stick, I want to briefly summarize the importance of the ideas presented here in terms of what we do in museum education.

1) Simple: Ultimately, our messages need to be tied to our institution’s mission statement, as well as departmental goals. Everything that we communicate needs to have purpose on both a large and small scale. Activities shouldn’t be done just to fill space, but, rather, they should be crafted so that our visitors experience a reinforcement of the ideas presented within our institutions.

2) Unexpected: We cannot expect our visitors to enjoy themselves if we do not challenge them in some capacity; boredom breeds indifference. One way of achieving this is to surprise our visitors with unexpected content, activities, and ways to participate in the creation of meaning within their experience.

3) Concrete: We need to provide hooks from which people can latch themselves onto the content we are presenting. The more entrances we provide by clearing away abstraction (museum/academic jargon, etc.) the more our information will be made accessible to our audiences.

4) Credible: Out of all of the principles, I feel this one in particular should be the easiest for us as museum professionals to implement. We need to be accurate in our presentation of information so as to maintain our reputation as places of authority and truth.

5) Emotional: We have the responsibility of making our audience care for the things we are teaching. We simply cannot know that emotional connections have the power to transform the learning patterns of our visitors. We seek out that which we care for, and because of this museum staff must capitalize on their ability to stir the emotional core of their audience.

6) Stories: More expansive than just stories, we must present a logical sequence of information to our visitors that gives them a sense of excitement and adventure. The number of opportunities to motivate individuals to action is incalculable. Motivation breeds action, which in the end I would say is one of the biggest goals of museum education—to get people to act (continue to learn, be advocates, conquer an obstacle, explore new terrain, etc.)

All of these principles mentioned above are highly valuable to us as museum professionals, but it must be remembered that the ability to find these traits in existing ideas is just as important as creating sticky ideas themselves. Sometimes creativity is really a form of investigation.

Chapter 6: Stories

The sixth and final principle of sticky ideas is STORIES. The power of stories is twofold:

1) It provides simulation (knowledge about how to act).
2) It provides inspiration (motivation to act).

Of utmost importance here is that both of these benefits lead to action.

Turning to point number one, researchers have uncovered that individuals create a “geographic simulation” of the stories that they hear. People do not merely visualize the story in their minds but they also simulate it, meaning that they reproduce the spatial components and relationships mentioned in the story (209). In this way, researchers have concluded that there cannot be passive audiences to hearing stories; we simulate them step by step in our minds (210).

The Heath brothers posed the following question: Why does mental simulation work? Their response claimed that “it works because we can’t imagine events or sequences without evoking the same modules of the brain that are evoked in real physical activity” (212). Mental simulations inevitably help us to manage our emotions, problem-solve, anticipate what the proper reaction or response would be to a future scenario, and build skills (212-213). Most importantly, they help us to place knowledge into a framework that resembles reality, so that we are better able to take appropriate actions; they give us a context in which to act (214).

“The takeaway is simple: Mental simulation is not as good as actually doing something, but it’s the next best thing. And, to circle back to the world of sticky ideas, what we’re suggesting is that the right kind of story is, effectively, a simulation” (213).

The second major benefit of stories is the inspiration they can provide for their audience. Think of the story of Jared the Subway customer that lost 245 pounds by eating a few healthy choices at Subway and doing a little walking to and from his college classes. Not only does the story of Jared highlight the ability for stories to inspire us to action (buying Subway…) but it also reminds us that sticky ideas are not always created; many times sticky ideas just need to be found.

So, how can we spot a sticky idea? Both Chip and Dan Heath have analyzed the composition of hundreds of inspirational stories and have outlined their three basic plots: the Challenge plot, the Connection plot, and the Creativity plot.

1) The Challenge Plot: Think David and Goliath. Here, the main character overcomes a tremendous obstacle and succeeds. Challenge plots inspire us to act because “they appeal to our perseverance and courage. They make us want to work harder, take on new challenges, overcome obstacles” (227).

2) The Connection Plot: Think the biblical story of the Good Samaritan. These are stories about how individuals can create relationships that serve to bridge gaps in race, class, religion, etc. They make us want to serve, work with, and love mankind (228-229).

3) The Creativity Plot: Think of the story of an apple falling on Newton’s head. These are stories that involve an individual undergoing a major breakthrough, solving a problem that has haunted individuals for some time, or tackling a problem in a new and creative way (229). Creativity plots make us want to try something new, to be imaginative, and to experiment with different ways of looking at a set problem (230).

One of the greatest traits of stories is that they inherently possess almost all of the SUCCESs framework components that have been outlined thus far. They are almost always concrete (full of details), and they mostly have emotional and unexpected elements. The hardest part is to be simple, meaning to reflect the core message.

Tying It Back to Museums

Initially, when I think about stories in a museum environment, my mind wanders to how we write label text for our exhibitions and interactive components. Most of us know the proper techniques as described by Beverly Serrell: don’t use humor, stick to less than 50 words, etc. However, do we understand how to construct meaning within the content of our labels? I find that using stories within label copy can serve to drive the visitor forward, allowing them to read the text because it is in an understandable sequence and is entertaining (!), logical, and easy to follow.

Just a few weeks ago, I went to the Denver Firefighters Museum across the street from the Denver Art Museum offices. Given that they draw much of their content from local firefighters and their personal experiences, I imagined that there would be plenty of stories within the museum’s label panels. I was wrong. As I think about this experience in light of the information presented above, the effectiveness of utilizing set paths of stimuli (stories=constructed pieces of information that form a cohesive whole) seems completely obvious. Stories stick because they have the ability to carry the mind from one place to another in an orderly fashion. Do our label panels do this or do they contain gaps that can suck the visitor into a place from which they cannot escape or progress?

Stories are also an incredible tool in creating interpretive materials. For art museums, they can be particularly useful in drawing the visitor into a period of time or a specific piece of artwork. They include the visitor—something art museums for decades have struggled to remedy; they place the visitor at the center of the experience. Yes, we can give a tour of our Asian galleries by selecting objects to speak about (notice I didn’t say discuss). Or, we could tell the history of the Silk Road by taking our visitors on a pretend trip through Asia, using objects to enhance our understanding of the story of that area’s culture and lifestyle. I know which event I would want to be a part of…

Chapter 5: Emotional

The fifth principle of sticky ideas is EMOTIONAL. As part of our make-ups as humans, it would appear that all individuals to a certain degree express their emotions. For some, this act is simple and natural. For others, this may prove difficult. Some individuals choose to follow their emotions, while other gravitate towards the more logical functions in life. This opposition is only reinforced by the fact that researchers have suggested that the moment we shift our thinking into a more analytical frame of mind the less likely we are to feel our emotions or the emotional current surrounding us (167). What does that tell us museum professionals? In order for individuals to care (feel or be emotionally attached to) for our ideas, we must get our audiences to take off their analytical hats! Somehow that doesn't seem to be a huge concern of mine...

So, why are our emotions important when talking about making ideas stick? Inevitably, it boils down to the fact that "for people to take action, they have to care," and in order to care they must feel the emotions that are associated with that mindset (168). Sticky ideas aren't about making people emotional, about them weeping over the information that we present. It is about using an emotional message to cultivate an interest in a certain something. These feelings ultimately inspire people to take action. As museum educators, what more could we ask for than for our visitors to not only feel connected with a given set of information but to also take those feelings of interest and convert them into valuable forms of action (further study in a certain subject matter; life-long learning patterns; allegiances to institutions, cultures, people, places, etc.; advocacy efforts, etc.).

Yet, how do we make people care about the idea we are trying to sell? The Heath brothers state that there are three ways to do this.

1) THE POWER OF ASSOCIATIONS: "To make people care about our ideas we don't have to produce emotion from an absence of emotion. In fact, many ideas use a sort of piggybacking strategy, associating themselves with emotions that already exist...The most basic way to make people care is to form an association between something they don't yet care about and something they do care about" (171+173). The power of associations allows us to follow the instructions of Dewey, who acknowledged the fact that in order to have valuable experiences they must be drawn from or attached to previous experiences. This connection to things of the past adds an element of familiarity that allows for a progression forward on a solid foundation. Such is still the case when we are speaking of emotions. That attachment--association--with the past allows for emotions to develop in such a way as to make them relevant to the individual experiencing these emotions.

2) SELF INTEREST: The second way in which we can create environments where individuals care about our ideas is to appeal to their self-interest. We make people care by "appealing to the things that matter to them" (177). What matters to all people? Themselves.

3) IDENTITY: We can also make individuals care by appealing to their identity. Make the information you convey hit home to your audience members.

How can we apply this knowledge into the museum setting. First of all, I believe that drawing an emotional connection between our visitors and the information we present to them is paramount in creating experiences that mean something to our visitors. By this I mean that emotions have a funny way of creating meaning for our visitors that goes beyond a surface-level feeling of attachment; it causes our audience members to feel. To feel in many ways is to make the world more real to you as an individual. We realize (in a very true understanding of the word) what we encounter because our emotions open the door to delving into a set of knowledge even further than we usually would.

Another point of interest for me centers on a quote from the authors concerning appealing to the self-interest of your audience. They state:

"Companies often emphasize features when they should be emphasizing benefits. "The most frequent reason for unsuccessful advertising is advertisers who are so full of their own accomplishments (the world's best seed!) that they forget to tell us why we should buy (the world's best lawn!)" (179).

In other words, as museum professionals we need to make it known what the benefit of the benefit will be. This can happen in departments all across the face of our institutions from visitor services to education to design. Rather than spending time stating what we are, we need to convey to our target audience(s) why they should invest in what we are. The more and more I read about what museums do poorly the more and more I realize that it has to do with answering the wrong questions. We need to start answering the "Whys?" for our visitors, not simply stating the "Whats?"

Chapter 4: Credible

One of the hallmark characteristics of museums is the authentic experience, whether it be through a real artifact of the world's cultural heritage or the learning environment surrounding these works of art. We know that in these tough economic times people are coming to museums because they feel that they are places of truth--places of stability--amid the constantly changing atmosphere of contemporary society. All of this proves the importance of the fourth principle of sticky ideas: CREDIBLE.

What makes people believe ideas? Surely a large measure of what we currently believe as "truth" has derived from our relationship with and our upbringing by our parents, the experiences we have had in our lives, perhaps our religious faith, and our trust in authorities of various measure. These factors--a lifetime of personal learning and social relationships--undeniably help to form our current belief system, and they prove to be tough barriers to break when we are attempting to persuade an audience to believe new concepts (133).

Authorities, or experts in a given area of concentration, are a well-documented and reliable source of credibility for our own ideas. These are what we would call external sources of credibility. There are two types of credible authorities: the expert and the celebrity. Ultimately, we trust the opinions of those whom we want to be like (134). There are also individuals who are labeled "anti-authorities," people who we wouldn't expect to be effective authorities. As the Heaths state, "the takeway is that it can be the honesty and trustworthiness of our sources, not their status, that allow them to act as authorities. Sometimes anti-authorities are even better than authorities" (137).

Most of the time, however, our ideas must stand on their own. They must have internal credibility. Some general guidelines for establishing internal credibility are explored below:

The first point is that concrete details "lend credibility to the idea itself...By making a claim tangible and concrete, details make it seem more real, more believable" (138). Although details help to increase an idea's credibility, it should also be mentioned that these details should support or symbolize our core idea. Another way to insert credibility into an idea is to use statistics. As the Heaths state, "statistics are rarely meaningful in and of themselves. Statistics will, and should, almost always be used to illustrate a relationship. It's more important for people to remember the relationship than the number" (143). Statistics must also be contextualized in a way that humanizes them and connects them to our experiences. A third way to make our ideas internally credible is to use what is call the Sinatra Test. We all know the chorus in Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" that says "If I can make it there, I'll make it anywhere." If one example on its own creates credibility for an idea in extreme circumstances then it passes the test. Literally, if it can make it there it can make it anywhere.

Moving away from internal credibility, the last source of credibility mentioned is the audience. In this scenario, one presents an idea to an audience and they are left to verify its claim--what is called a testable credential. Think Wendy's "Where's the Beef?" commercial from the 80s. Viewers were challenged to see if Wendy's really did have more beef in their sandwiches than their competitors...and they did!

So what can we take from this knowledge of establishing credibility in the ideas we create? One of the major ideas I keep throwing around in my mind is that, unlike many other institutions/companies, museums are already considered to be credible institutions. We are not in the fight to convince our audience that we know what we are talking about; they already believe us. What we are in the business of is not letting our visitors down on our promise of an authentic experience. This being the case, we should be more focused on creating internal credibility for the ideas housed in our museums rather than external credibility outside our walls. This requires us to create messages within our buildings that are vivid in detail yet also allow our visitors to test our claims. They must be bold without giving off the impression that we know it all. Text must create parameters for learning, yet they also must leave room for the visitor to implant their ideas. In the end, I believe credibility goes hand in hand with acceptance. If our visitors feel accepted, wanted and valued, they will be more likely to see the museum as truthful, authentic, and real spaces.

Chapter 3: Concrete

"...being concrete isn't hard, and it doesn't require a lot of effort. The barrier is simply forgetfulness--we forget that we're slipping into abstract-speak. We forget that other people don't know what we know" (129).

The third principle of sticky ideas--and what the Heaths call the easiest to embrace and the most effective of the six traits--is being CONCRETE (129). Although the words we use can often be abstract, life itself isn't; life is composed of concrete images. Oftentimes, we slip into the mode of abstraction rather than finding the profound truth within the concrete images that comprise human nature and life itself (99). The problem for us lies in the fact that "abstraction makes it harder to understand an idea and to remember it. It also makes it harder to coordinate our activities with others, who may interpret the abstraction in very different ways. Concreteness helps us to avoid these problems" (100).

What happens if, as is usually the case, we slip back into the world of abstraction when we are attempting to communicate with others. Studies have shown that breaking up larger abstract concepts, such as goals, etc., into smaller, more concrete ideas allows these thoughts to be mentally tangible. By this, I mean to say that success lies in converting abstract ideas into tangible mental landscapes that individuals can visualize. Give it context! It's necessary! This could mean taking advantage of pre-existing schemas within our audience (see previous posts for more detail on schemas).

So, if concreteness is what we are after, how do we really achieve that? Is it really that valuable? Essentially, to be concrete is to be something that can be examined with the senses (104). "It is a basic principle of understanding" (106). However, it is also a foundation for abstract principles. When it boils down to it, concreteness is vital because it helps individuals to "construct higher, more abstract insights on the building blocks of our existing knowledge and perceptions" (106).

Concrete ideas are sticky ideas. Why? Because they utilize our memories in ways that cause us to hold on to the information being processed. Yet, concrete ideas also serve another great purpose: to coordinate. As the Heaths say, "concreteness makes targets transparent;" they assist is keeping team members on the same path during a project (116). Abstraction does not allow this; rather, abstraction provokes individuals to create their own meanings to solve their own confusion/problems. Essentially, "concreteness creates a shared 'turf' on which people can collaborate. Everybody in the room feels comfortable that they're tackling the same challenge...concrete talk...puts them on common ground" (123).

When I think about this principle of stickiness I find myself not turning my focus to museum visitors but rather to the interaction of museum staff. More often than not, and as instances in my internship have proved, museum professionals tend to have a hard time communicating in concrete ways. Are we great at compiling a mass of abstract ideas to set into production? Yes. Are we always great at communicating those ideas in an understandable, transferable form? No. Sometimes I find it greatly amusing that we are in the business of communicating effectively to other individuals, yet we have the hardest time communicating with our own colleagues! What is the answer? The Heaths say to "find a 'universal language,' one that everyone speaks fluently. Inevitably, that universal language will be concrete" (115). Image if we spoke concretely to one another about what we need, want, and foresee. The first step in creating meaningful experiences for our visitors is to learn how to communicate between us--between the individuals that know the information we are trying to convey--before we try to communicate that information to others less informed (at least for the moment!).

SUMMARY:

1) Concrete ideas help people to understand concepts and remember them.

2) Concrete ideas help people to coordinate.

Chapter 2: Unexpected

The second principle of sticky ideas is being UNEXPECTED. How do I get people's attention and how do I keep it are two questions that are at the center of this concept of "unexpectedness." Let's begin with how to get an individual's attention.

Getting Attention (Surprise):

According to the Heath brothers, "the most basic way to get someone's attention is this: Break a pattern" (64). When a pattern breaks or when something simply changes, attention is required. The essential emotion that correlates with getting an individual's attention is surprise (65). How can these facts be used to make our ideas stickier? Essentially, how can we generate the unexpected? These are the questions we need to be asking ourselves.

In the last post, we talked a little about the concept of schemas within the process of creating simplicity. Here, in order to cultivate unexpectedness, we must present individuals with ideas that violate their schemas. When this occurs (our schemas fail us), we are surprised. Our attention is grabbed in order that we can repair our schemas for the future (67). In other words, surprise acts as an "emergency override" when we encounter the unexpected or when our schemas fail. "Things come to a halt, ongoing activities are interrupted, our attention focuses involuntarily on the event that surprised us" (68). Therefore, unexpected ideas are more likely to stick because the element of surprise forces us to think, pay attention, and focus. Surprise makes us want to keep paying attention until we find an answer to the thing we are stumped by(69).

Despite all of the good that surprise can do, too much of it can distract us rather than grab our attention. What this tells us is that surprise isn't enough; the core message of an idea must be reinforced during this process of surprise (70).

Here is a summary of the above-mentioned points by the Heaths:

"If you want your ideas to be stickier, you've got to break someone's guessing machine and then fix it. But in surprising people, in breaking their guessing machines, how do we avoid gimmicky surprise...The easiest way to avoid gimmicky surprise and ensure that your unexpected ideas produce insight is to make sure you target an aspect of your audience's guessing machines that relates to your core message" (71).

Again, once your core message is identified, you then need to develop a way in which to communicate it to your audience. The Heath brothers suggest first finding the counter intuitive in your message and then communicating it to your audience so that it breaks their existing schemas. By doing so, you will open up the opportunity for you to reconstruct and refine their schemas using the message you are presenting, thereby the message sticks (72)!

Keeping Attention (Interest):

The element of surprise certainly gets our attention for a short period of time, but how do we attempt to keep that attention for a longer period of time? The secret ingredient here is mystery. "Mystery is created not from an unexpected moment but from an unexpected journey" (82). The implication here is that keeping attention requires having an experience whose ending is unpredictable. Curiosity/Interest then acts as the catalyst for progressively moving an individual towards this unforeseeable end, the answer, the result, or the solution. Curiosity is in it for the long haul.

When does curiosity happen? The Heaths state that "curiosity...happens when we feel a gap in our knowledge" (84). When we know that we don't know something, we are then more eager to fill that knowledge gap. Therefore, those that are successful at keeping people's attention are great at creating knowledge gaps (setting the context so that people care about these gaps). I found this interesting:

"One important implication of the gap theory is that we need to open gaps before we close them. Our tendency is to tell people the facts. First, though, they must realize that they need these facts. The trick to convincing people that they need our message...is to first highlight some specific knowledge that they're missing" (85).

It is also mentioned that in order to prove knowledge is missing, individuals may need to be aware of what they do know first (92-93). Talk about a complex process!

So, how can all this be tied back to our beloved museums? First of all, it is important to note that we, as museum professionals, are in the business of breaking down barriers and building up new structures more conducive to life-long learning. Many of us perhaps feel as if this isn't right--that we should always be building upon what our visitors bring to our institutions. However, this is precisely what happens when we break down our visitors' preexisting schemas: in this specific scenario, we build by reconstructing an existing structure of knowledge rather than redesigning elements of it.

The trick is to do all of this for a purpose. How many times do we offer activities that reconstruct the way an individual looks at one specific element of the world without connecting that new knowledge to the bigger picture or what our core message is? Stickiness doesn't do you any good if you don't stick the right things to the right things. Then it is just a pain.

Another thing to keep in mind is that because we know individuals will pay attention over a longer duration of time if their curiosity is peaked we need to create environments that foster this type of response. As the Heaths implied, experiences/story lines need to be created that allow the visitor to travel done an undetermined path. They also need to expose both what the visitor already knows and what they do not so that the visitor may have a better understanding of the things they are lacking. These voids can then be filled in by us.

How this all happens is still a mystery. Perhaps it is a mystery that will provide me with the determination and curiosity to figure it out! I'm just really wondering how museums can subtly expose the knowledge gaps of their visitors while revealing to them what they do know at roughly the same time. Hum...

Chapter 1: Simple

Principle number one in the formation of sticky ideas is SIMPLICITY. Here, we aren't speaking of simplicity in terms of dumbing down information into catchy little sound bites, but rather "what we mean by 'simple' is finding the core of the idea. 'Finding the core' means stripping down to its most critical essence. To get to the core, we've got to weed out superfluous and tangential elements. But that's the easy part. The hard part is weeding out ideas that may be really important but just aren't the most important idea" (27-28).

When I read this, I immediately saw how this relates to museum mission statements. Museums are complex creatures, built upon a variety of disciplines and swarming with lofty goals for its public. Therefore, it is more than necessary to "find the core" of an institution's vision and proceed from there. If the vagueness of most museums' mission statements tells us anything, it reveals how difficult it is to contain your creative vision in a simplistic form without losing a) the heart of your message b) the passion infused within your message c) the intensity of your message. As the Heath brothers advocate, "a designer of simple ideas should aspire to...[know] how much can be wrung out of an idea before it begins to lose its essence" (28). Perhaps the greatest problem with museum mission statements is simply this: the essence of the museum's most important vision has been lost by the deletion of key characteristics of its "most important ideas."

It's a hard thing to discard a lot of very creative, perhaps useful, and even innovative ideas in order to focus on the one that is the most important. My experience working in museums tells me that this is a very common issue. For instance, the museum I am currently interning at has a new temporary exhibition coming in the fall, and many meetings have been held to discuss the marketing strategy for the show. Unfortunately, the result of these meetings has been that the overall marketing plan does not sell externally the experience that visitors will hopefully have internally. Individuals in leadership positions are advocating for interesting and innovative ideas that are inherently attractive; however, these ideas do not convey the most important message (nor an accurate one) of the exhibition. Why communicate if you are not actually communicating the idea you want to convey? There are serious issues here; museum professional sometimes has a hard time dedicating themselves to one core idea.

The remedy for this crisis is what the Heaths refer to as "forced prioritization" (32). This requires the prioritization of goals that are critical ahead of those that are beneficial (34). Turning back to the case above, perhaps a sexy ad campaign would benefit the museum by bringing in younger audiences that tend to not attend museums thereby driving up attendance and public image in certain crowds, but it is critical? No. Critical would be a message that accurately conveys externally what visitors can look forward to experiencing within the museum's walls. As the Heaths say, "Avoid burying the lead. Don't start something interesting but irrelevant in hopes of entertaining the audience. Instead, work to make the core message itself more interesting" (41).

So once we know what our core message is it is our job to convey that to our audience. The Heaths state that "finding the core isn't synonymous with communicating the core. Top management can know what the priorities are but be completely ineffective in sharing and achieving those priorities" (43). Here we see two different layers of the same difficult puzzle. First, you need to weed out the bad in order to find your core message. Then, you need to make this message known. More often than not, museums tend to fall short on the latter. We know what we want to say, but perhaps we don't have the finances or man power to say it. I would even dare to say that museums often struggle with the former; we tend to explain the circumstances that surround the core message but never truly articulate that message.

Simple ideas are not only related to a "core something," but they must also be compact so as to be sticky and meaningful enough to make a difference (46-48). The more condensed the idea, the better. However, it isn't enough that ideas are compact in order to increase their stickiness. "Compact ideas alone aren't valuable--only ideas with profound compactness are valuable" (52). Yet, how do you fit the complex within a simplistic form? The answer is to layer simple ideas in such a way that they transform into more complex ideas (53). This can be done by utilizing the schemas already present within the minds of your audience. By doing so, you tie new knowledge to those things that your audience already knows. As a result of invoking these schemas, you accelerate the learning process for your audience.

SUMMARY:

1) The first step in making ideas sticky is to simplify the message by finding the core idea.

2) The second step is to communicate that idea in a compact form that doesn't lack meaning.

The Villain to Forming Creative Ideas

One of the more interesting points of the Heath's argument is that there is a natural enemy to this process of forming creative ideas, what they label the Curse of Knowledge. The Curse of Knowledge is essentially the following scenario:

“Once we know something, we find it hard to imagine what it was like not to know it. Our knowledge has ‘cursed’ us. And it becomes difficult for us to share our knowledge with others, because we can’t readily re-create our listeners’ state of mind” (20).

I think this is a very real concern for many educators, both within the museum field and without. As a result, lots of questions emerge from this one scenario: How can I really know and understand the mindset, reference point, or previous knowledge of my visitors if I am so blinded by my own knowledge? How can I understand them if I am nothing like them? How can I use my knowledge to my advantage, rather than letting it hinder my ability to understand where my visitors are coming from? Ultimately, we question how to look beyond what we know in order to make that information/knowledge accessible to others. We wonder how to relate to our visitors.

Although I think the above-mentioned quote is a profound statement on the difficulties associated with presenting knowledge to those utterly unfamiliar with a subject matter that you, yourself, are well-acquainted with, I believe that there is a significant positive side to this situation. Any attainment or acquisition of knowledge exercises the powers of the brain and inevitably serves to broaden one's perspective on life. Knowledge grants us the ability to see beyond set standards of knowledge--of spoon-fed tidbits; it increases one's ability to walk a less-traveled path, for the foundation of knowledge has created the stability necessary for this growth to occur. So, as we look at the situation above, perhaps our higher level of knowledge can inhibit just how well we can relate to our visitors. But, think about this. If we do have a thorough understanding of a given subject matter, we should be able to find (more easily) various points of entry that can be accessible to those unlearned in this area. Essentially, knowing more allows us numerous options in the way of education. What we see as barriers are self-constructed.

An Introduction to Making Ideas Stick!

Why do some ideas seem to thrive while others die hard? How can we get the ideas we communicate to “stick” with our audience members? According to Chip Heath and Dan Heath, the term “stick” means one’s “ideas are understood and remembered, and have a lasting impact—they change your audience’s opinions or behaviors” (8). In the museum profession, surely one of our most important goals is to create life-long learners; we seek not only to have the ideas, facts, and concepts influence the lives of our visitors but also to cultivate from these different means a lifestyle that upholds the importance of education and serves to motivate the visitor to continue education relentlessly. To accomplish this goal, the influence we have on our visitors must be real; it must exist. Coming to an understanding of what “sticks” for our visitors is the primarily exercise we must activate to achieve this goal.

Many times, it seems as if what hinders museum educators from effectively communicating major ideas to their audiences is not that they do not know how to give context to a certain set of information—to have eye contact, to practice communication methods, etc. The major hindrance is their inability to shape the content of their message into one that stands the test of time, that doesn’t get lost in the mix of other thoughts and concerns, and that creates behavioral changes within the learner. So, how do we shape the content of our ideas to make them incredibly sticky? The premise here is “that if we understood what made ideas naturally sticky we might be better at making our own messages stick” (12).

A key thing to remember throughout this discussion of sticky ideas is that despite the specific qualities that every sticky idea embodies there does not exist one magic formula for creating sticky ideas (12). However, these common traits together form an environment in which stickiness thrives, and they enable the existence of a systematic way to produce creative ideas (aka, they can be learned) (24). The Heath brothers have narrowed these traits to the following six principles (16-19):

Principle 1: Simplicity
How do we find the essential core of our ideas?

Principle 2: Unexpectedness
How do we get our audience to pay attention to our ideas, and how do we maintain their interest when we need time to get the ideas across?

Principle 3: Concreteness
How do we make our ideas clear?

Principle 4: Credibility
How do we make people believe our ideas?

Principle 5: Emotions
How do we get people to care about our ideas?

Principle 6: Stories
How do we get people to act on our ideas?

Together, these six principles spell out SUCCESs. Read over these questions again. Don’t they mirror exactly what we museum educators have been trying to do for some time now? Don’t we search for the main message we want to convey, strive to understand how to grab and hold on to the attention of our audience, communicate clearly and effectively, impart within our visitors a sense of authenticity, cultivate within our visitors a personal investment in the idea we are selling, and—ULTIMATELY—enable our visitors to act upon the knowledge they have been given? If so, these guidelines set by the Heaths prove immeasurably valuable in the successful development of the stickiness factor within our ideas in order that we may achieve our end goal of creating life-long learners amid our museum visitors.

Switching Gears

After another good walk with Dewey in Art as Experience, I have decided that it is time to leave my good friend and pursue other avenues of study. The main reason I have chosen to leave Dewey behind at this time is that as I have gotten further into the depths of Arts as Experience I have found a lot of repetition between this text and Experience and Education. Given that I have the luxury of molding this course to my passions and interests, I have taken my current disinterest in Dewey as a sign to move on to bigger and better things.

In the last few weeks interning at the Denver Art Museum, some colleagues have suggested that I read Chip Heath and Dan Heath's Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survive and Others Die, a relatively recent text discussing the power to communicate in ways that transform the way people think and act. I find this to be a good ending to my study of experience, for it outlines what qualities cause ideas to stick--qualities that can help educators create experiences that foster life-long learning.

Chapter Three, Part Two: Finding Harmony

So, with all of this talk about what experiences are, what they should entail, etc., Dewey ultimately sums up these theories by framing them within an enveloping statement about the common patterns that comprise experiences. He states, “There are, therefore, common patterns in various experiences, no matter how unlike they are to one another in the details of their subject matter. There are conditions to be met without which an experience cannot come to be. The outline of the common pattern is set by the fact that every experience is the result of interaction between a live creature and some aspect of the world in which he lives” (45). Regardless of the other qualifiers of having an experience, all experiences--despite their differences--form as a result of the coming together of a being and some element of its environment. I have mentioned this before and see no need to continue arguing this point; however, I want to expound upon this symbiotic relationship between self and object just a little further.

Dewey acknowledges that particular experiences come to a close when a "mutual adaption of the self and object emerges" (45). In other words, no experience can be complete unless a harmonic relationship is created with the self and a select portion of that individual's environment, a relationship that forms as a result of a joint perception of the world (46). In this scenario, there must exist what I call "give and take behaviors." The individual must act and be acted upon. In this way, the experience of an individual is not only made complete due to this partnership but it is also enhanced--a process which refines the learner. As Dewey argues, “…nothing takes root in mind when there is no balance between doing and receiving” (47). As I've said before, to learn (which in many ways is to undergo a sequence of meaningful and related experiences) is not only to receive but to give of oneself during the process.

Let's review a statement by Dewey:

“Experiencing like breathing is a rhythm of intakings and outgivings. Their succession is punctuated and made a rhythm by the existence of intervals, periods in which one phase is ceasing and the other is inchoate and preparing…Each resting place in experience is an undergoing in which is absorbed and taken home the consequences of prior doing, and, unless the doing is that of utter caprice or sheer routine, each doing carries in itself meaning that has been extracted and conserved” (50).

What is most striking to me about this quotation is that since experiences inevitably have rhythms, these rhythms ultimately serve to guide individuals on an established path of learning. To clarify, by established I do not mean dictated modes of experiencing the world. Rather, I mean that these rhythms set standards of behavior, guides to learning, and road maps to success that function to assist in the progression of one's knowledge. What is interesting about these rhythms is that there is the opportunity within an experience to pick up on these rhythms and thus become more in tune, more comfortable with the experience. What does this lead to? More effective learning.

So, back to the ever-present question: How does this relate to the learning that goes on in museums? Above anything else, it teaches us some very important things about how our visitors can learn in a more efficient and effective way:

1) They must be presented with opportunities to participate, thus imparting to the situation a portion of themselves.

2) They must be acted upon. By this I mean that some environing factor will influence them. In order for this to happen, our visitors must be receptive to this influence.

3) If our visitors recognize that they are in the middle of a give and take scenario and thus pick up on the rhythms of action inherent in this type of relationship, they will be more apt to take further action to enhance the experience being had.

Ultimately, this symbiotic relationship has the power to transform. But, what happens if there is too much giving from the individual or too much taking for the surrounding environment? Dewey concludes that "experience is limited by all the causes which interfere with perception of the relations between undergoing and doing. There may be interference because of excess on the side of doing or of excess on the side of receptivity, of undergoing. Unbalance on either side blurs the perception of relations and leaves the experience partial and distorted…” (46). What I am not quite grasping is and what Dewey fails to mention is what actually this balance is. Is the balance an equal measure of giving and taking? Does the word balance mean equal in terms of measurement or equal in terms of influence (in which case one side could be more plentiful than the other)? In any case, this need for balance concerns me. We all know the visitor who expects to be fed information without effort. We all know the visitor who seeks to input their knowledge/expertise/experience into their museum visit yet the museum provides no forum for that. Undoubtedly, this harmonic relationship is utterly important to the construction of knowledge within our visitor, but are we ready to hand over some of the power? Are we ready to give in the manner desired and needed from our visitors?

To conclude, I'd like to focus on another obstacle to the full articulation and development of an individual's experience. Dewey mentions that “resistance is treated as an obstruction to be beaten down, not as an invitation to reflection” (46). This made me think...what barriers do we place in our museums? Are they barriers that provoke reflection or problem solving on the side of our visitors? Are they barriers that inhibit moving intellectually, emotionally, and even physically? How can we present obstacles in a way that invites the visitor to solve for x, to think of y, and to combine a with b? How can we intentionally use resistance as a motivating tool to educate? Seems a little tricky to me, but something worth investigating.