A FIRST STEP IN LEARNING how to paint, or to improve on one's practice, is to attend a "painting demo," or demonstration. The instructor stands before the audience and shows how he does a painting. In the world of realist painting, where a desired end is sought (something that looks real), the demo is a popular phenomenon, and growing ever more so.
The typical two-or-three day workshop begins each day with an instructor demo. At art conferences, a typical feature is to let attendees select from a variety of one-off demos by different painters. The backdrop to all of this, of course, is the long history of painting instruction, whether a curriculum in an art school or the format in an atelier, that is, a small master's studio with strict procedures and personal attention.
When it comes to the popular demo, however, we are talking about a singular form of painting instruction. As painting conferences proliferate, and adult-education flourishes, art demos are becoming a mainstay. And one could argue that such demos tend to take one of two different forms.
The first we might call Propositional (or “directed instruction”). The teacher proposes, and the passive student takes it in. One art educator spoke of it this way: you open the top of a student’s head, and pour in the knowledge. A quite different approach might be called Dialectical Instruction. Here, the process goes something like: an idea is raised, a counter idea is pitted against it, and the end goal is to achieve a resolution of the two.
Both methods of teaching have a long pedigree. Both can be used in teaching a more traditional realist painting. Both have strengths and weakness. And perhaps surprisingly, professional painters who teach workshops with demos seem to fall into one camp or the other.
In a typical Propositional demo, the painter sets up and paints, often not saying anything as the process moves forward. The idea is to watch and learn. Many such demos have proceeded, it seems, in almost complete silence, as if all are sharing a kind of sacred experience. Indeed, sometimes it’s a rule. No questions please, at least until it’s over.
The effectiveness of such an approach has as much to do with the students’ temperaments as that of the instructor. Watching someone paint in virtual silence for two hours demands not only a good attention span, but very good eyesight, especially if it’s a large group. This is the silent Propositional approach, but it’s not the only one.
Other painting instructors prefer to teach with verbal propositions. In effect, the demo is a pre-planned and practiced presentation. In different places, you can see the instructor give virtually the same basic talk, whatever the subject matter to be painted. The presentations are often so polished, with jokes on cue, that they can be a very pleasant experience.
What lacks in Proposition instruction, however, is one important element: the dialectic. Painting has often been described as problem solving, and Propositional instruction usually tries to avoid such back and forth in order to show, simply, "how it’s done."
One painting instructor signaled his dialectic approach at a one-off demo by allowing questions during his two hours of work. As he put, "When I watch someone painting, I want to know what they are thinking." He'd seen enough silent demos for a lifetime.
What the Dialectical approach does is bring to the surface what the students are thinking, or wondering about. This approach is always a close run thing, since back and forth between teacher and student consumes time: the instructor may not get very far on the painting (in fact, the rare demo, given time constraints, completes an entire painting).
Still, if painting is problem solving, the Dialectic has found its native turf. Ideally, the instructor will be talking about the vision of the painting, the problems and choices faced at each step, and why one solution or another may be best. A skilled dialectician will already know many of the questions that typically arise in the student's minds--and asks them himself. Questions from the audience are also welcome (and hopefully that audience tries to ask things of general interest). Not a few demos go downhill when one particular student gets too enthusiastic with queries (as if no one but he and the instructor are in the room).
Nevertheless, in my experience, some form of dialectical demo is the better kind. For some of us, sitting silent and watching someone paint from a distance undermines the learning process. For generations, the field of educational theory has struggled with how to engage student minds in all fields of study. It also has tried to figure out how knowledge can be truly rooted in people who are on the receiving end.
The best dialectical instructor asks questions in student's minds. If the teacher also allows audience questions during the painting, it adds an additional layer to the teacher's burden. Yet the ability to do both—ask and take questions—is clearly what makes a painting teacher good, at least in the kind of short-term setting of the painting demo.
Good painters who teach come in all shapes and sizes. Their approaches may arise from their own training. Certainly it has also to do with the skill of public speaking. Some painters are more outgoing (while they work), and others do best in silence and concentration. Three cheers for all of them, though in my experience, some form of dialectic is far more interesting--and doubtless far more effective in making the knowledge stick in those who came to learn.
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