Hard Truths: The Art of Thornton Dial is one of those times. The exhibition opens in February of 2011, and I know it will present multiple opportunities to engage members of our community in thoughtful, productive discussions about current events and relevant social issues. Through a grant we received from the NEA, we have been able to form a partnership with students and faculty at Lynhurst 7th and 8th Grade Center in Wayne Township.

Thornton Dial, Sr., "Don't Matter How Raggly the Flag, It Still Got to Tie Us Together"

This group of students—the Junior Giant Kings—is one of the most remarkable groups of young men I have ever worked with.  They are the coolest bunch of kids, and their relationships with each other, with their faculty sponsors and their growing relationship with art has been astounding to witness.

Gang strife is a growing problem in middle and high schools across the country, and Wayne Township is no exception.  The Junior Giant Kings is made up of a select group of Latino and African-American boys –two groups who are experiencing increased ethnic tensions in many Indianapolis schools–who must go through a fairly rigorous application process to join.  Within the group, they have daily discussions about social issues, cultural awareness and leadership.  They are led by a core group of committed and dedicated young teachers–incredible men who serve as positive role models to these boys and show them what potential lies within.

Perhaps the aspect of the Junior Giant Kings program that has proven to be most advantageous (both to the students and to us here at the IMA) is that their group meets every morning in home room—the administration gives them the time to build those relationships, have productive discussions and learn to trust and respect each other.  Developing these skills has allowed them to become mediators within their own school, taking it upon themselves to act as arbitrators between gang members and encouraging their peers to slow down, look fairly at a situation and be willing to hear each other out.

Where does the IMA fit in to this?  Let’s go back to Hard Truths.

A variety of special programs focused on the Thornton Dial exhibition is planned; one with the Junior Giant Kings has already begun.  We’ve designed a program that uses Visual Thinking Strategies (or VTS) as its core component.  VTS is a facilitated discussion method that, through discussions about works of art, encourages careful looking, development of critical thinking skills, increased use of vocabulary and openness to multiple points of view.  The discussions are completely student-driven and evolve based on participants’ comments, while the facilitator maintains a neutral and non-judgmental position throughout.
Through VTS, the students learn to look at artwork in a different way (or for the first time), yet in a way that allows them to incorporate their own experiences, observations and opinions without the threat of being corrected or criticized.  It is precisely this kind of discussion that can lead to more productive conflict resolution and a greater sense of understanding in their everyday lives.

We have had the great pleasure to visit Lynhurst on several occasions and to lead the Junior Giant Kings in VTS discussions.  Soon they will begin in-class activities that build on the skills VTS teaches and apply them through writing and other language arts experiences.  Perhaps the most rewarding experience I have shared with the Kings so far, however, was several weeks ago when they visited the museum.  Each month, we are featuring a different work by Thornton Dial on display as a sort of “preview piece”, and 13 boys came out one Friday afternoon (some even skipping basketball practice to come!) to discuss one of these pieces in addition to several other works of art throughout the galleries.

I am constantly astounded by the depth and insight teens can share through these sessions.  In a culture that supports machismo and defensiveness in its youth, it is rare but extraordinary to listen to the boys open up, speak freely and reflect on the art they’re seeing…and yet, through use of VTS coupled with the intricacies and ambiguous nature of Dial’s work, we spent almost 15 minutes discussing a single work of art.  The insightfulness of their observations and comments was exceptional.

I find myself so grateful and truly honored to have the chance to work with the Junior Giant Kings in this context and to be a part of how their love and appreciation for art is developing.  I believe teens and young people have a very important role to play in the museum and its galleries, and they deserve and need to be given opportunities to explore artwork in a safe and non-critical environment.

So, through the school visits, the IMA field trips, the in-class activities and a tour of the Dial show early in the new year, we hope to foster a sense of ownership and confidence amongst the Junior Giant Kings.  We are incredibly fortunate to have their teachers as advocates and partners in this effort, and to see how these phenomenal young men are well on their way to becoming phenomenal adults.

Hello, my name is Donte. My thoughts about the museum are just all positive. It is a beautiful and resourceful place to be. It is way more than a museum to me and I’m sure it is to others.

My MAP experience thus far has been great. Just simply art informational and filled with opportunities. As an artist, I always look forward to being or working at the IMA.

In this experience I look forward to coming out of here with way more art knowledge than I had, overcoming mental obstacles, understanding more about nature, and getting the experience to work with a group.

What I would have given for the opportunity to work in an art museum as a teenager—to have had access to such beautiful settings and stimulating interactions. Rather, like a lot of young first time job seekers; I wound up in the slippery kitchen of the fast food industry.

But this blog is not about me. Instead, I’d like to introduce to you the teens of the 2010 IMA Museum Apprentice Program (MAP). The IMA MAP employs high school sophomores and juniors during the spring and summer to explore what’s happening behind the scenes of the IMA, while working on projects alongside Museum staff.

This year, the MAP teens are learning about 100 Acres and planning creative experiences that will encourage Park visitors to engage with nature, art and with one another.

Check back as the MAP teens will be blogging about their experiences with art, nature and other things that catch their interest.

Hello, I’m Jakob, a junior at Herron High School and a member of the IMA Apprenticeship Program. This is my inaugural blog post, the first of what I hope to be many this summer. We’re still in training, but all signs are pointing to this summer being outstanding, and I’m really enjoying the atmosphere of the museum and its staff. I’ve always had fun at the museum, but now that I have the time to really take a look at things around here in detail, I’m finding more and more to admire.

It’s a great place for me considering how often I think about aesthetics anyways (I’m planning on going to art school), and I’m very happy to work at a place where everything I look at, from what’s on the walls to the design of the building and its grounds, is instructive and worth studying.

I’ll leave with an example of what I mean:

These chairs are being created by artists of all ages using a simple template as a starting point.  Feeling inspired to try your hand at creating the next innovation in seating design?  Drop by Star Studio and get to work.  As always, the activity is free and available all hours that the museum is open.  Can’t make it to Star before the show closes?  You can still make a chair!

Download a printable template adapted from the die-cut that Carla Hartman designed for use in Star Studio.

Download Chair Template

This exhibition details the journey of conservation and hints at the power of art to heal. I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of art therapy. While the halls and galleries of a Museum are my temple of healing, I would like to experience art’s power to heal in other settings such as classrooms, hospitals or shelters.

I recently had a conversation with two dear friends–one of whom is an art therapist/art teacher at a school for emotionally troubled kids in Virginia and the other of whom has experienced the healing of power of art at a local Indiana treatment center called Selah House. Their insights are shared below:

[Art therapist & teacher]
How do you become an art therapist?
To practice art therapy and to be considered an art therapist, you need to have a Master’s degree in art therapy. There are sometimes other requirements for practicing in various settings, but that is the minimum level. Refer to the American Art Therapy Association Web site for more.

How difficult is it to find work as an art therapist?
Location makes a big difference. It is difficult to be hired directly as an art therapist outside of major cities, primarily because art therapy is a relatively new field. With additional licensure and experience, you can be hired as a counselor, social worker or the like. If you would like to work outside of a major city, you would want to take additional graduate school credits in counseling and seek an LPC (Licensed Professional Counselor).

What do you consider the best and worst parts of your job?
I like working with adolescents who nobody else really enjoys working with. They are the kids who have tried really hard to get the adults in their life to give up on them. They feel like failures. Seeing them find a voice for self-expression in art and become successful at it, and therefore develop a sense of self-worth and more motivation to succeed in other areas of life, makes all the work worthwhile. Good art therapists are artists who have had life-changing or life-defining moments with their own artwork. They are the ones who understand the power that art has to heal.

What are the differences between art therapists and art teachers?
I think there are more similarities between them. I act as both, so I know that it requires more of a desire to help a student develop artistic skills to be an art teacher. Art teachers guide students with lesson plans designed to help them develop these skills. Art therapists guide clients with counseling skills and art tasks designed to help clients navigate whatever waters they are navigating in counseling. They both use art very intentionally.

Therapists need to be willing to look at deep issues. In doing that, you end up exploring a lot of deep emotional material that resonates with your own emotional life and life experiences. Judy Rubin, a renowned art therapist, said, “You cannot take clients where you have not been yourself.” Self-care is crucial, as is having good professional boundaries.

Art teachers need to be able to manage a classroom. You have to be comfortable with yourself as an authority member and being in front of a class. You have to be prepared and on your toes at all times so there is a lot of planning.

What contemporary art lends itself to art therapy exercises?
Dawoud Bey’s photography speaks to my students in a powerful way. They get really excited about it and can relate to it on many levels.

[Former art therapy patient]
What was it like to experience art therapy first hand as a patient?
While I could conceptually imagine what “art therapy” would be like, it was amazing to actually experience it. You think you know exactly what’s in your head…but when you draw and create what’s in there, it can be truly eye-opening. There’s something about taking the intangible and creating something concrete out of it. While it was difficult to dig through all the negative thoughts and emotions in my head, it was an incredibly freeing experience to see them on paper, work through them in therapy, and eventually literally burn them up to let them go.

The goats had stepped aside and the rain blustered outside. Eighty diners piled into the hay-filled dining hall for a five-course extravaganza presented by Slow Food Indy. Slow Food in an international movement working to reconnect people with the pleasures of real food, sustainably produced. Money raised from the dinner was used to send several local chefs and cooking students to Terra Madre, the global gastronomic gathering in Turin, Italy.

Participating chefs stood on hay bales to present their courses. Regina Mehallick of R Bistro bestowed the heirloom tomato soup. Former Elements chef Greg Hardesty presented his Tortilla Espagnole—a quiche-like dish made from the sweet eggs of alfalfa-fed chickens and topped with Indiana sweet corn salsa. Goose the Market owner Chris Eley served lamb-stuffed-with-ground-lamb raised on the farm where we ate, along with a sweet potato mash flavored with chestnut honey, parsley, and crunchy duck cracklings—amazing.

For dessert? A rustic cake of apples, ginger and crystallized ginger with crème anglaise and pecans, prepared by Amanda Taylor of Ivy Tech Community College culinary arts program. Just when I thought the blissfest was over, here came a plate of butter cookie twists embellished with pine nuts, made by a local church lady.

It was an auspicious meal, cooked and eaten with full consciousness of the aesthetics, politics, and poetry of food.

If you’re into food at this level, don’t miss nationally-known chef and food educator Alice Waters’ visit to the IMA’s Tobias Theater Tuesday, December 2. Waters is the founder of the Chez Panisse restaurant and foundation in Berkeley, CA. She also created the Edible Schoolyard project to integrate food (and gardening) into every aspect of school curriculum. Alice is also the subject of a juicy new biography (juicy in more ways than one). Alice Waters tickets go on sale today. Watch the IMA blog for Noelle Pulliam’s interview with Alice.

If you knew your next meal were your last, what would you have? Bon appétit.

When I was very young, I had a special sense about written numbers. It’s hard for me to access that now, through all the years of education devoted to making sure I understood numbers in a standard way. But I still have a feeling about that early relationship, and sometimes I wonder how it might have developed if I hadn’t learned to be ashamed of it and to ignore it.

Here’s what I can recall: I knew the shapes of the numerals as indicators of the distinct characters of each. Though my sense for some of them has slipped out of reach, in the way dreams do, I can still feel the stronger personalities. The numeral five was intimidating in appearance, but in actuality quite sweet. Seven was both stern and judgmental. Eight had complexity and depth – and eight led to a painful collision with my first grade teacher, Miss Logan. She taught us to write eight with one continuous figure-eight line. Soon after, she exhorted us never to write it as one circle on top of the other – an idea that had, frankly, not occurred to me.

Once I heard about this forbidden way of making the image, I badly wanted to try it, to find out why it was seductive and wrong.  I hunched over my practice sheet to try what sounded to me like an ingenious alternative. The hurtful rap of a ruler on the back of my head shocked and scared me. I could hardly believe she caught me in the act so quickly and easily. Miss Logan’s efficient suppression of dissent gave me, early-on, the impression that privacy and experimentation had no place in the classroom.

Back to the personalities of numbers: you might think it’s just as well that this idiosyncratic notion of numerals having distinct natures signified by their visual forms was scared out of me. Even in first grade it was beginning to raise some dauntingly complex dimensions of arithmetic. What kind of psychodrama might be the sum of 8+7? If 5 were subtracted from 9, what interpersonal consequences would that equal? Left unmolested, I wonder if I might have been able to craft an alternative way of working with numbers that allowed me to derive answers that approximated my classmates’. I’ll never know. As it is, I developed a serious case of math phobia and went on to do poorly in math classes throughout my schooling – with only the slight exception of geometry, to which I was timidly attracted. It is only in middle age that I’ve come to terms with the fact that I am actually fascinated by mathematics as logic, and by the more philosophical implications of mathematics, rather than the computing tasks. I’ve also noticed that the concept of numbers having “natures’ isn’t entirely far-fetched when one considers mathematics as a system for describing relationships and processes.

My early sense about numbers may be one indication of something it’s taken me years to notice about myself: I believe I am a primarily a non-verbal thinker. Until I reached this hypothesis, I thought everyone thought approximately the same way.

Several years ago, I began asking my colleagues in the art museum education department how they thought – not what they thought, but how. Were they conscious of thinking in words, for example? I started this line of questioning because I realized that I was completely unable to describe or explain my experience of thinking. Of course I could mentally use words. If I needed to craft a statement of some kind and make decisions about the most effective wording, I could certainly rehearse the possibilities in my mind and make a choice. However, that would be a particular situation, very different from my ordinary, day-to-day thought/language processes. Truth be told, I had to admit that in my on-going mental life, words don’t play a part. In ordinary conversation, I do not plan or even know what words will come out of my mouth. I would even go so far as to say that the times I have jotted notes for a talk or to teach a class have led to my most lack-luster presentations. The notes always flummox me.  It’s taken me a while to trust myself, but I now feel that I am better off speaking “spontaneously.”

But back to the question about thinking that I posed to my co-workers: Most people seemed taken aback by the question and several mentioned that they had never considered how they thought. Upon reflection, quite a few said that they were conscious of words and sentences going through their minds. Several said they “heard” their thoughts as an on-going voice inside their heads. One person described being vaguely aware of punctuation in his thoughts! Another described dreams in which she read the narrative and conversations in a way that reminded her of the bubbles over the heads of comic book characters.

It was difficult to cover my own surprise at these revelations. Even now, as I type this anecdote into my laptop, I wish I could form the ideas on this screen with my hands. I wish that you could take them in with a probing – or a playful – gaze, rather than following various linear sentences to various open or dead ends. I don’t think with words.

How do you think? Can you describe your experience of thinking? Please let me know. I think others will be interested as well.

In many ways museums have been required to wear many hats for a while now. They have found themselves in precarious places, needing to get a piece of that proverbial cash pie, necessitating competition with movies, sporting events, zoos and other, much flashier leisure time attractions. This unfamiliar and uncomfortable competition led to horrible things like the invention of the word “edu-tainment.” As a museum educator turned new media super-star I have seen this scenario from a couple of angles. One was the need to tie everything a museum did to some educational goal that had to do with something more obviously valuable than “art.” Art and science, art and math: boy, were art museums thankful for da Vinci! Of course, for many of us, a more enlightened 21^st century point of view has evolved and now we are comfortable asserting that art is valuable, all by itself. Learning about art and how people make it is a worthwhile endeavor for every man, woman and child, and sometimes by chance, or even on purpose, art actually relates to those other things that kids learn in school.

But even after this realization, we are still multi-tasking, still trying to find a variety of angles that will allow us to pitch our work to the world. You’ve read IMA blog posts about social networking, seen us on iTunes U, and we have engaged in other technological exploits. These are examples of how IMA is trying to insert itself into the lives of unsuspecting internet users all over the world by using the same tools gimmicky (and successful) companies use. As a member of the new media team, I can honestly say that all we do is multi-task, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. But it is definitely a different variety of juggling from the previous thematic exploits of many museums. These days we look at an exhibition, a program, a topic and think about all the potential audiences and ask, who are they really and what do we want them to know? Why would they care about Roman art, or contemporary art or any kind of art? In order to get answers that matter, new media talks to marketing and both of them talk to education and curatorial reps. We struggle to keep up with all this communicating, but we work really hard at it in the hopes that if we can pull it all together we might find the best way to tell you about what we’re all doing at IMA. Thus we blog, maintain a Facebook page, create web content, edit videos, and we have those galleries full of art, too. We have trouble figuring it all out and keeping it all straight. What is marketing’s job? What does new media do exactly? How should we divide it all up? The short answer, I think, is we shouldn’t. Instead we should do what we’ve been doing, rolling with the punches, talking a lot and trying not to be fussy about who does what until someone does nothing. Daniel is best at this, but I am trying hard to get up to speed.

Under Daniel’s leadership we (the royal we) have taken these ideas to heart, as a cross-departmental team, and created firm plans with great ambition that combine the best of many worlds. Collaboration on many levels is the thing that makes us genre-defying. You might find new media poking around in conservation (supervised and with permission, of course) or in the greenhouse shooting a video about that. We work with education to coordinate video for guest lecturers and talk to artists when they visit IMA thanks to tip-offs from the contemporary department. All of this internal networking results in all the stuff you see from us on the web.

Now that technology has a hold on all of us, it is essential that museums understand how to harness it. And IMA is working hard. Watch for some big things this year. We might still be students in some regard, but at least we show up for class. So when 2008 wraps, don’t be surprised to find that IMA is listed among all the other genre-defying juggernauts out there. And if we’re not…well, then you’re not reading the right blogs.

P.S. – I tried really hard to work in a reference to Aerosmith and RUN DMC being genre-defying, and I am really sad I couldn’t, thus the existence of this pathetic add-on.