Tree Huts and Bending Nails

One of outdoor activities that my international students have been dealing with this spring was building of tree huts. The activity was a part of subject “art and crafts” with extended focus on experiential learning (the name of the course is Outdoor education and experiential learning); The main “products” of the project were not the huts themselves, but the students’ collaborative processes including all kinds of experiences that could possibly emerge: experiences with nature, tools, creative ideas, group discussions, design challenges, materials’ qualities … as well as luck of appropriate tools, materials or trees with desirable branches.

Three groups, with seven students each, had seven days to build three huts with a selection of recycled planks. Each groups had hand tools, like hammers and saws, rope for assembling with living trees and nails for assembling dead wood. The trees were not to be hurt by nails, but there was still much work to be done with hammers, which seemed to be unfamiliar tool for some of the students. It’s not that the students had never used hemmers before, but when the hut building demanded improved speed and quality of nailing, and the nails kept banding, the activity became a group challenge - actually a challenge each of the groups reported later. In their presentation of the building process the students recalled how they tried to understand why the nails banded: Was the metal too soft or the wood too hard? Was something wrong with the hammer? Was it about how long one held the nail before releasing it? They discussed the angle of hammer and way of hitting the nails’ head. They made suggestions and tested new ways of solving this apparently simple problem. But the long, annoying nails kept banding – at least for two of groups. The third group reported no problems with the long nails, however they found the short nails to be impossible. This made the nail mystery even more mysterious…

Activity of nailing involves wood, nails, hammer, hand and whole body that have to negotiate one with another. The easiest excuse for not succeeding in nailing would be to blame the quality of nails, hammers or even the wood, but this would not help you improve. It is only through facing the challenge that you can learn something and achieve mastery. Nails can band for many reasons, but if you are determined to continue, you can try noticing and reflecting about what you do with your body: there are many possible ways of grasping a hammer, using muscles, head positioning, directing eyes, banding back, supporting a nail… You will be surprise how much embodied knowledge is demanded from such a simple activity; You will be amazed by how much knowledge is already stored in your body.

Apart from the nail-problem the groups reported many other challenges that provided them with fresh experiences. Hundreds of practical and aesthetic choices had to be negotiated between the participants and each of them had something unique to contribute with. The fact they were exposed to heavy materials, heights and risky tools, made them develop collective responsibility for each other’s safety. Knowing that the project depended on each of them seemed to make them motivated, proud and emotionally attached, and to make their experiences meaningful and memorable.

NAEA Convention in New York

American National Art Education Association organized their 65th national convention i New York in beginning of March. I was glad to join the other 6999 participants. (Can you imagine 7000 people, all interested in art education, gathered at the same place at the same time?) The hotels Hilton and Sheraton, and the street between them, were crowded by teachers, artists, researchers….

I was happy that my presentation was accepted to be one of the 1000 parallel sessions, and honoured that about 20 people found their way to the basement of hotel Sheraton on March 3rd. Remarkably, two of them were my father- and mother in law who also live in Norway but happened to be in New York the same weekend – actually at the same hotel. How strange is that? Two years ago, when I attended NAEA conference in Baltimore I also experienced a strange coincidences: The first person I randomly mat at the conference, was Maureen, an art teacher K-4, who happen to speak my mother tongue and, as we later found out, was married to a man who grew up in the same neighbourhood in Zemun in Serbia where I grew up!

I appreciate that Maureen, as well as Ana, came to my presentation in New York. Ana Marjanovic-Shane is Assistant Professor of Education at Chestnut Hill College. I had never met Ana before, but we exchanged a few mails about six months ago regarding the book “Vygotsky and Creativity” which she coedited.

Ana teaches and researches within psychology and seems to share my interest in art, creativity and negotiation of meaning. Additionally, we share the same mother though none of us has used it in everyday life for the last 20 years or so. During the lunch with Maureen and Ana, I experienced how difficult it was to have a professional conversation in Serbian because my vocabulary had become too narrow for the knowledge I acquired in adolthood. One the other side, Maureen amazed me with her competence in Serbian which she has learned from her husband.

Desire for Ski Design

With a group of students who are taking a course of “Outdoor education and experiential education” (the course Vestfold University College offers in English each spring) I visited Norwegian ski museum in Morgedal in Telemark. My colleague who teaches physical education has been there before and also this time she arranged a presentation by a museum pedagogue. I had not been there before and did not know what to expect; I ended amazed by what I happened to experience.

The museum itself was interesting enough, but the museum pedagogue with her engagement and ability to connect with the group, helped us to imagine and connect with people from the past. One of such people was Sondre Norheim who considerably improved design of skis about 150 years ago.

Sondre’s family lived purely in a little cottage and did not own any land. They had to work hard in order to survive, and working and moving outdoors was not easy in winter time considering the large amounts of snow in the mountains of Telemark. Sondre wanted to move faster not only in order to fulfill his duties, but also to have fun beyond everyday occupations. He dreamt of speed, ski jumps, and easy maneuvers; He desired to draw curves in the snow while dancing across dunes. But skis of that time could not give him these pleasures.

In order to achieved what he wished for, Sondre had to redesign the skis, make them shorter, lighter, improve the lines and the way skis were attached to the foot. And in order to accomplish that, he had to understand how design qualities of these seemingly simple objects relate to different types of movements achieved through negotiations between human body, gravity and landscape; He had to understand snow and possibilities of own body, as well as to truly understand diverse qualities of wood. I assume that such kinds of understanding were not acquired by reading books, but through physical experience – “learning by doing”. Diverse qualities of natural materials (snow, wood, landscape and human body) gave him all kinds of resistances he needed in order to learn.

Referring to Dewey’s (1925) notion of “body-mind” and his intention to justify the importance of natural materials for learning (Dewey, 1956), as well as refereeing to my own experience with children and materials, I suggest:

“Natural materials offer diverse sensory experiences, multiple possibilities for exploration and transformation, motivation, ecological consciousness, and above all resistance. Through body-mind negotiation with natural materials a child [or an adult] can meet unexpected problems and experience what it is like to create unpredicted solutions” (Fredriksen, 2011 p.128).

In order to succeed, Sondre had to be engaged in negotiations between his hands, tools and wood and continuously remain aesthetically attentive to the material’s affordances and constrains. His motivation derived from his desires to dance in accordance with landscapes. However in order to succeed he also needed persistence in order to meet the challenges of not yet discovered design possibilities. Additionally, courage was needed in order to hold on his dreams even when people around thought he was crazy.

References:
Dewey, J. (1925) Experience and nature. Chicago: Open Court.
Dewey, J. (1956) The child and the curriculum. In J. Dewey (Ed.), The child and the curriculum & The school and society (pp. 31). Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Fredriksen, B. C. (2011). Negotiating grasp: Embodied experience with three-dimensional materials and the negotiation of meaning in early childhood education. 50, The Oslo School of Architecture and Design, Oslo. (http://brage.bibsys.no/aho/handle/URN:NBN:no-bibsys_brage_25972 )

The Final Evidence

On January 27th I finally received written evidence that my dissertation has been successful conducted. A formal ceremony was carried out at The Oslo School of Architecture and Design, with director in a long, black gown, music and speeches. Three former PhD students (one was absent) and about 60 master degree students that successfully finished their studies in 2011, received their diplomas.


The photographers have been Mona-Lisa Angell (the photo of me) and Lise Swensen (the photo of Målfrid Irene Hagen, me, Kjetil Nordby and director Karl Otto Ellefsen).

Among Books

The library at Vestfold University College approximately once a month welcomes students, teachers and other personnel to take a seat among the books and listen to a talk. Last week it was my turn. To present my PhD-study, I prepared a short introduction for those who had not heard about the study, and planned to focus on something different from what I earlier presented to my colleagues and students. My choice was to present the “Model of Negotiating Grasp”, discuss children’s competences and raise some questions about teachers’ responsibilities in providing conditions for children’s negotiation of meaning.

The concept “Negotiating Grasp” was constructed during my study. It draws connections between physical grasping with hands (and other parts of body) and mental (or rather body-minded) grasping, and connects embodiment and cognition similarly to Efland’s (2004) concept “imaginative cognition”. The “Model og Negotiating Grasp” is developed in my theses (Fredriksen, 2011). It is a kind of framework which helped me analyse processes of young children’s meaning negotiations, and which, according to my PhD-committee, also could be helpful for other teacher and educational researchers.

The last part of the library talk was related a sentence from Eisner’s (Eisner, 2002) book “The Arts and the Creation of Mind” where he says that teachers can, by choosing materials and tools, provide conditions for certain learning processes, but cannot decide what will be learned. If we consider that new understandings are negotiated between children, teachers, materials and tools (and not transmitted in “traditional way”), providing suitable physical conditions, materials, books, music etc. becomes one of the most important tasks of a teacher. Another important task if we want children (or learners of any age) to participate in their own knowledge negotiation, would be to truly believe that learners are capable of contributing with their experiences. It is first when we are open-minded that curricula can be given new life (as in “curricula-as-lived” (Irwin & Chalmers, 2007)) along with the processes of negotiation.

The thesis “Negotiating Grasp” can be down-loaded at http://brage.bibsys.no/aho/handle/URN:NBN:no-bibsys_brage_25972

References:
Efland, A. D. (2004) Art education as imaginative cognition. In E. W. Eisner & M. D. Day (Eds.), Handbook of research and policy in art education (pp. 751-773). Mahwah: National Art Education Association / Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.
Eisner, E. W. (2002) The arts and the creation of mind. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Fredriksen, B. C. (2011). Negotiating grasp: Embodied experience with three-dimensional materials and the negotiation of meaning in early childhood education. 50, The Oslo School of Architecture and Design, Oslo.
Irwin, R. L., & Chalmers, F. G. (2007) Experiencing visual and visualizing experience. In L. Bresler (Ed.), International handbook of research in arts education (pp. 179-193). Dordrecht: Springer.

The Present Moment

Few days ago I observed fingers of a young girl: they were tirelessly moving, touching, puling, rotating or squeezing everything they came in contact with. Accompanying the fingers, her eyes and ears were attuned to the same sources of interest, and even though some of the 34 people around her could have interrupted her, she remained engaged in the same small details that had captured her attention. Her attention, activities, thoughts and senses seemed to be merging in the moments of experiencing, as Dewey (2005 [1934]) suggests experiences always are: compact “packages”of merging feelings, thoughts and senses. The girl was truly present in her own experiencing – totally engaged in the present moments as if nothing else existed.

Stern (2004) says that life is always lived in the present moment. It cannot be different. Unable to release ourselves from the constant flow of time (except in dreams and some other extraordinary events) we are unable to get back to exactly the same place in time; contexts are always new. Each moment is unique and unrepeatable. Each experience is unique, but only when we dare to live it… in the unique, present moment.

The images (still and in motion) are captured from exactly the same place, on days with no wind - amazing how the leaves were falling all by themselves. The fourth time I intended to take a photo, the trees were gone…



References:
Dewey, J. (2005 [1934]). Art as experience. New York: Berkley Publishing Group.
Stern, D. N. (2004). The present moment in psychotherapy and everyday life. New York, London: W.W. Norton & Company.

For my Colleagues (only?)

On December 1st I had honour to present my PhD-study to my closest colleagues who teach diverse disciplines at early childhood education programs at my university college (Vestfold University College). The presentation was based on the trial lecture (held on November 1st) where I was asked to comment on the on-going national revision of the early childhood teacher education.

The preparation for the trial lecture led to an understanding that the process of the revision is influenced by two parallel processes: making the early childhood education better adjusted to the early childhood practice, and the process of internationalizing Norwegian higher education. But this was not all: the important insight was that these two processes build on quite opposite ideologies. The largest problem though, the way I see it, is not that the two ideologies are impossible to unite, but that the people responsible for the revision do not seem to be aware of the ideologies! This ignorance has already led to number of conflicts, misunderstandings and tensions… and I cannot see any hope for “better” (whatever “better” or “higher quality” might mean) early childhood teacher education if the ideologies are not discussed!

Many of colleagues who listened to the presentation on December 1st seem to share my opinion that the insight about the opposing ideologies is important and should be discussed more. I am thankful for their support and I truly hope that teacher educators and leaders at Vestfold University College will find time for discussions before the new, national education program is to be implemented in our institution.

This is how I have illustrated the ideologies:

	Ideology behind Norwegian early childhood education	Ideology behind the international educational trends
	Embodied, pre-verbal competences	Knowledge as verbal-language-based
	Holistic, unity, embodied metaphor	Traditional, divided disciplines
	Complexity and contextualized understanding	Structure, generalizing and dis-contextualized testing
	Prolonged engagement, explorative play	Efficiency and economizing
	Self-motivation for learning	Knowledge externally defined
	Building identity on respect and will to contribute to others	Exclusion and focus on incompetence
	Imaginative cognition	Memorizing
	Quality of life – here and now	Quality related to international competition

Spaces for Emerging Questions

My visual art students are these days struggling to formulate research questions for the first time. They complain that they’ve been working for hours and still don’t have proper questions. My experience is that formulating a question can take weeks and months of reformulating, reading, reflecting, and possibly the most important: discussing with others - Discussions with colleagues with similar interests is, at least, what I find the most important for my emerging questions.
Last week I spent three days with my colleagues – our little community of knowledge with common interest in research on the importance of physical space and materiality in early childhood education. Our three-day-stay at a SPA hotel in Strømstad (Sweden, just on the other side of Oslo fjord) basically consisted of spending time in our rooms and writing, but we frequently met for short discussions and meals. All of us had a well-defined task to write an article for the same journal (Education Inquiry), and it was never difficult to find something to talk about. The conversations about one of the articles were always relevant for the other articles; When someone wondered about something, she/he was usually not alone; When some questions were posed, new questions aroused and engaged the participants in lively discussions.

Informal discussions during the meals contributed to further development of friendly atmosphere, mutual trust and confidence, and created spaces where any kind of question could be posed; Where any kind of question could be born from the synergies of disciplines, interests, knowledge, experiences - and the mutual, inter-subjective engagement.

Crossing to the Other Side

I have for long been wondering how it would feel to get on the other side of the dissertation day – the other side seemed so distant that I found it difficult to imagine. However, the crossing itself reminded me of barefoot crossing of a mountain stream coming straight from a Norwegian glaciers: the chilliness of the first step took my breath away, the slippery stones threatened my balance, and the strong stream kept reminding me that one doubtful move could result in disappearing under the frozen lake just a few meters away.

The beginning of my trial lecture made me dizzy as if a strong stream tried to pull me down. I got scared when my vision became double, but tried to concentrate on my breathing while I was talking. Somehow I came to understand that I had to ignore the cold feet and with self-confidence quickly choose where to step in the direction I had envisioned. And after a while I could neither feel my feet nor the stream – at least I did not have to struggle against it. By the time the trial lecture was approved and the committee members had started to ask questions, I had already acquired enough self-confidence that their questions did not seem threatening, but challenging in a positive way. The stream metaphor suddenly changed its character… Instead of puling me down, the conversations fell more like mutual balancing of steps, like in an Argentinian tango: the dancers have to feel the weight and direction of the other one’s body in order to adjust own moves in the improvising activity of dancing.

I am grateful to the committee members prof. Michael Parsons, Marte Gulliksen and prof. Halina Dunin-Woyseth who had read my thesis so carefully and with their interesting questions made it possible for me to negotiate new meanings during the questioning session. I thank my family, friends and colleagues who were wonderful audience and made 01.11.11 to a fantastic, unforgettable day!

Preparing for the Trial (-lecture)

The last ten day have been spent in preparing for the dissertation on November 1st. The theme for my trial lecture was received on October 18th – quite interesting theme, but also challenging and highly relevant. The committee has asked me to compare my findings to some phenomenon of the on-going national revision of the Early Childhood Teacher Education. This is the theme:

"The model of Negotiating Grasp as basis for a discussion of the distinction in the new Framework plan for early childhood teacher education (Forskrift om rammeplan for BA barnehagelærerutdanning) between the knowledge areas 'Children's development, play and learning' and 'Art, culture and creativity.' "

Here are some relevant links to web pages of The Oslo School of Architecture and Design, where the dissertation is taking place:
http://www.aho.no/no/AHO/Aktuelt/Kalender/2011/Disputas-Biljana-C-Fredriksen/
http://www.aho.no/no/FoU/Publikasjoner/Avhandlinger/Sammendrag-PhD/Biljana-Culibrk-Fredriksen/
http://www.aho.no/Global/Dokumenter/Nyhetsvedlegg/program_disputas_BCF.pdf

My Sand Castle

It was the 4th of October and, for a few days, I had been expecting a mail from my dissertation committee. My step-son kept reminding me that a negative evaluation could still have some positive consequences and that I should think about them in order to prepare for the committee’s decision. The wise 13-year old was trying to prevent a large disappointment.

Instead of sitting and waiting at the internet café in Villarcayo, close to Nela village where my step-son, my son and a few friends were staying (the kids had one week off from school), we went to visit a place called San Vincent in Northern Spain. When we arrive to the beach, the sight was overwhelming; I’ve heard it was a nice place, but I did not expect to experience such a wonderful sight; The banded blue horizon reminded me that the Earth was round, and that it continued to spin around and around.

While I was walking across the beach I enjoyed every moment; This day was finally my summer holiday – even though it was October, I did not have any real summer while I was rushing to finish my thesis. This was the little brake I was wishing for, for so many days… a cloud-free day before a storm…

My dissertation was built like a sand castle: I was carefully arranging each sand grain, adding water and pressing the flextible material with my hands. I imagined that the castle would stand up as a solid construction, but I still wanted the traces from my hands to remin visible - and the castle to appear as trustworthily vulnerable product of thousands of choices I had to take.

On the way back to Nela I checked my e-mail in Villarcayo: The response was positive! My sand castle did survive the storm… and the committee had understood that the “castle-builder” (they did not call me that) had “invested much of both her mind and heart in the inquiry”.

In a few days I will be receiving a theme to prepare for the trial lecture to be held on November the 1st. Today, Sunday 16th, I am enjoying another relaxing day – I think I deserve it...

Artistic Process as Pedagogical Text

The day I delivered the thesis (August 1st), I was back on the same teaching job I had before the PhD-study – however teaching is never the same. My main teaching responsibilities this fall are related to two groups of students: the one in a group of 18 undergraduate art and crafts students, the other is a group of 19 master degree students studying “pedagogical texts”. One might immediately wonder: What is a pedagogical text? Am I not an A&C teacher and how does my teaching relate to pedagogical texts? These questions are more than relevant at the point when both my students and I are searching for appropriate definitions of pedagogical text that can appropriately include arts-based approach to education.

In the broad definition of “text”, as used by the researchers at Vestfold University College, a pedagogical texts is any kind of physical object that can be used in a pedagogical purpose. This, of course, includes text books, but also art materials, costumes used in drama education, or accordion used in music education. But what about a dance floor and the classroom space – are they also “pedagogical text” - or are they rather pedagogical contexts? Could anything used by a teacher in pedagogical purpose become a pedagogical text – disregarding what the pedagogical goals are? For instance, if the purpose of education is to stimulate students’ imagination, could a fairy-tale as well as a non-figurative sculpture, become a pedagogical text?

Meeting the two groups of my students, I bring with me my experiences and unanswered questions from one group to another; The group of A&C students have been exploring three-dimensional materials and reflecting about their experiences from the creative work. Many found it difficult to assign words to their aesthetic choices and intuitive actions. To inspire their future work with research on own creative work, artist-researcher Grete Refsum was invited to present her artistic processes.

Listening to Grete Refsum I was thinking about how fantastic piece of pedagogical text her presentation was: It was a pedagogical text that seemed to have helped her structure her thoughts, past ideas, feeling and experiences in order to present them. On the other hand, her presentation was a well-functioning pedagogical text addressing the students and meeting them at the point they needed examples of well documented creative processes.

Grete presented her work with 17 pictures (part of the same art work) in chronological order: from the invitation to exhibit, exploration of the specific room shape and function, choices of the themes, materials, techniques, shapes, lines, compositions and so on. While she was talking and showing images, I got more aware of the complexity of her creative process – in fact I could identify at least four different processes that seemed to exist simultaneously, and interweave:
1. The process of studying the space, the physical contexts where her art would be exhibited; She seemed to have audience on her mind while she was planning.
2. The process of background research that supported her thematic choice of combining Western religion (Christianity) and Eastern (Kina) ideology and culture. This research would lead to her choices of symbols, materials, forms;
3. The process of exploring materials, techniques and practical possibilities of composing with the specific material combinations;
4. And the process of her traveling and collecting personal experiences one might think of as separated from her art, but in fact essential for it.

When I view Grete’s lecture as a pedagogical text, I wonder where did such pedagogical text start and end; The lecture would not be possible if she had not for years worked on her art project, if she did not experience, reflect, take choices… Additionally, the pedagogical goals developed during her and mine discussion before the lecture about what the students needed. At this point, when the students got an assignment to verbalize their experiences and seemed to struggle with it, Grete’s lecture hopefully meet them at the right moment where they had experienced some challenge, but still not become too frustrated. Grete’s lecture could possibly help them to extent the zone of their proximal development, instead of giving up. This is up to them to evaluate: What do you say, my students?

Relevant link: International Association for Research on Texbooks and Educational Media (IARTEM)

Attuning Tools, Materials and Muscles

An incredible project of reconstructing a Viking ship is taking place in Tønsberg at the moment (see http://www.osebergvikingskip.no/eng/) and is expected to take another autumn, winter and spring. The original ship called Oseberg, made by Vikings around the year 820, and later berried in Tønsberg area, is today exhibited at the Viking museum in Oslo.

The same ship has been reconstructed before, but this time not only the ship is being copied, but the entire process of building it. The building process is shaped by knowledge about Vikings’ tools and techniques; knowledge about wood’s diverse qualities, as well as how it might have been affected by climate during the centuries of growing; knowledge about the ship’s lines, curves, joints, surface; hydrodynamic, waterproof and other qualities, and much more. In short, the reconstruction of the full size replica is a huge multidisciplinary project that calls on complex combinations of knowledge and expertise. Additionally, local knowledge is constantly being produces in here-and-now situations where physical work challenges craft-men and volunteers to master the tools and approach the materials (wood, iron or wool) in contextually appropriate manners. This means that they have to pay close attention to the exact qualities of the wood piece they have in hand, they have to adjust their movements according to the material, tool and muscles in their bodies… and to accomplish some kind of harmony between embodied knowledge, reflection and imagination in order to solve emerging problems - for instance: how to change axe’s angles when cutting across a 70 cm thick oak.

I am telling this from my personal experience. Usually I use saw to cut wood, but Vikings did not have saws. Cutting wood "the Viking-way" seemed easy when we were shown how to do it; doing it oneself was a quite different experience – I am sure it was also different experience for each of us (my three 13 years old companions and me) who volunteered that day.


I experienced how important it was to keep changing the angle of the blade in order to make a “V”-like shape (or rather “U”-shape, as learned through experience) through the wood; I experienced how loose I should hold around the handle in order to prevent hurting my wrists; which back muscles to engage; in which position to drop the axe; how to slide my hands along the handle in order to control to blade’s direction; how to find the right rhythm to provide the best efficiency, and so on… Each of the boys seemed to explore their own cutting technique, for instance banding and straitening knees in order to canalise power from feet up to the axe’s blade. They generally gave the most they had, claiming that they were not tired, but the following days, I’ve heard, the experience left some noticeable traces in their bodies – nothing permanent, but something to help them remember.

If cutting with an axe was our daily occupation, as it was for many Vikings, we would have to listen to our bodies much better – we would have to learn how to attune the bodies, tools and materials as perfectly as possibly. We would have to learn much, much more…

Objects' Affordances

With wide number of qualities, objects around us afford us with different possibilities. Some objects are designed to function in specific ways (like chairs or cars), while natural objects and materials do not have any pre-assigned meanings – it is up to each of us to interpret possibilities embedded in their forms.

Qualities of an object can remind us of something else, thus, as well-behaving adults we would seldom wear a bucket. To be able to see possibilities in objects that already have preserved pre-assigned functions one needs to release imagination – and have self-confidence.

Some objects, textures or shapes remind us of something we’ve earlier experienced. See for instance how 13-year old William found similarities between a round shape of a branch and a glass: He grasped the possibility in the material, imagined its possible function and carved a glass-holder. See also how he used old pants to make back-support on the chair he designed and crafted by himself.

Intersubjectivity of Grief

Intersubjectivity is an ability to “attune” to others, to communicate without words. Stern (2003) says that intersubjectivity develops from the earliest interactions between an infant and an adult when they share attention, intentions and emotional conditions. This means that babies can communicate long before they can talk – but it can also mean that ability to intersubjectively connect with others is integrated in each of us, though we might not be aware of it.

During my interactions with 3-5 years old children it became so obvious for me how intuitive and embodied communication between us was, and how easily young children sensed my feelings and attitudes.

After the terror on July 22nd, people in Norway started to gather in different ways, with and without flowers, candles and torches. Such gatherings were different from any other contexts we’ve experienced. I wonder how we knew how to behave in appropriate ways?

Once about 300 of us gathered in a theatre, we could observe a woman, hand in hand with a young man, entering the stage. When they stopped, she spoke to us while he remained silent - with grief on his face. They walked again towards a table with candles. We could now imagine what was going to happen, still none conducted us to rise simultaneously n the moment the candles were lightened; None told us to stand there in complete silence - but we all did. There were no prescriptions to follow – it was amazing how we attuned to each other’s movements, invisible gestures, breath, gaze… as if we were fishes in a stream. I don’t know how fishes do it, but I experienced intensive attention of all of my senses – I felt like a huge satellite dish antenna seeking to capture some signs from the surroundings, and my actions emerged from the inside before I had time to reflect about them - I was not thinking through verbal means of thinking, but through my body.

I guess we are all able to “match other people’s moods and emotions because of our ability to ‘read’ the form, the vitality, and the intensity of their movements” (Herskind, 2008, p. 280). However, when emotions are strong and shared, when the participants are attentive and the reason for their gathering exactly the urge to share with each other’s, our apparently hidden intersubjective abilities can surprise us with their intensity.

Herskind, M. (2008). Movement analysis and identification of learning processes. In T. Schilhab, M. Juelskjær & T. Moser (Eds.), Leraning bodies (pp. 269-283). Copenhagen: Danmarks Pædagogiske Universitetsforlag.
Stern, D. N. (2003). Spebarnets intersubjective verden [The Interpersonal World of the Infant] (Ø. Randers-Pehrson, Trans.). Oslo: Gyldendah Akademisk.

The images show a sea of flowers in Oslo and a gathering of 10 000 people in Tønsberg.

The Point of No Return

The thesis was finished on Sunday morning, the last day of my three-year long full-time study. It was printed late in the evening, copied five times on Monday morning and personally delivered to my advisor Martina Keitsch in Oslo in the noon. I suppose that three of the examples are on their way to committee members: Marte Gulliksen, Michael Parsons and Halina Dunin-Woyseth. How it goes from here, is not up to me any longer…

The thesis has been titled “Negotiating Grasp: Embodied Experience with Three-dimensional Materials and the Negotiation of Meaning in Early Childhood Education”. An article based on the thesis has been published in the digital journal FORMakademisk. The article presents a few examples of children’s interactions with 3D-materials and suggests that children’s creative ideas come from interactions between their past and present experiences.

Meeting the Audience

Who are you and why would you want to read my blog?

I can only imagine what could hold you attention on these lines, and can only try to satisfy your expectations. Thus, you are not one single person with unified needs… and I also have my wishes, agendas and power to choose which words to serve you. We, a writer and a reader, find ourselves in apparently simple relationship where you can click me away whenever you find the blog boring, annoying or uninteresting. On the other hand, this dialog is complex because I really need to connect with you (in my imagination) in order to write at all.

I attended InSEA’s 33rd world congress in Budapest June 27th to 30th. Listening to many presenters made me wonder how they imagined their audience when they prepared their talks: Who were the people at the conference? What could they find worth listening? Preparing my own (18 minutes’) talk I was concerned with how to be short enough, but still say enough that the audience would understand.

The presentation I found the most engaging, perfectly planned and carried out, was made by Sara Calcagnini from Leonardo DaVinci - National Museum of Science and Technology, in Milano. She spoke about symbiotic relationship between art and science.

Sara’s presentation started with relevant (and short enough) introduction including a self-ironic comment about her Italian English: she said this in a funny way, but saying that she was willing to humiliate herself for the sake of the message she wanted to share also had an strong, serious effect. With her honest and friendly appearance she quickly established contact with her audience and treated us with prudence and respect (at least this is what I experienced).

Sara was completely engaged in her talk, believing with her whole body that she had something important to say. The images can give impression of her rapid movements addressing the audience and how her body language undeniably expressed her wish to motive us. Constantly providing with new insights, her talk had escalating dramaturgy, finally culminating with a call for help. And her call touched me. I felt connected. I was her audience - she moved me and motivated me.

While I was thinking: “what a fantastic talk; what I fantastic person”, the first comment she received from the audience shocked me! The comment's irrelevance spoke of ignorance toward the important issues Sara addressed in her talk; She spoke about holistic understanding of our world and responsibility of global citizens. Don’t audience also have responsibility to contribute in constructive ways? Or remain silent…

I feel responsible that I did not stand up and give her my support. I am trying to convince myself that the majority of the audience felt like I did – but I don’t know. Was it possible that many of us did not grasp her powerfull message?!

I keep thinking about how important response from my audience is for me, both after a talk is over, but also before, and most of all while I am moving in front of them, trying to catch their eyes and looking for signs of acknowledgement, respect and interest.

We should not forget our audience, but they should also know how much they mean…