Abstract Artification concerns the
introduction of artistic ways of thinking and doing into non-art domains, such
as business, typically because the host domain recognizes that art has
something of value to offer that it does not. However, it is by no means easy
to establish exactly what it is that the art actually does offer. In this
paper, we approach this question by examining problems encountered in what
might be called the “researchification” of artistic design. Following an
historical and experiential account of the problematic conjunction of artistic
design and research, we conclude that the projective making and thinking strategies
of artistic design offer something of value not only to the artification of
research but to artification in general.
Key Words artistic problem-solving, projective making and thinking, research, surprise
1. Introduction
Ossi Naukkarinen uses the
word artification to refer to “situations and processes in which something that
is not regarded as art in the traditional sense of the word is changed into
something art-like or into something that takes influences from artistic ways
of thinking and acting. It refers to processes where art becomes mixed with
something else and this something else adopts some features of art.”[1]
One feature of this definition is that two disciplines or practices come
together because one sees advantages in utilizing the potential that it recognizes
in the other. In this paper, we explore the conjunction of the practices of artistic
design and research. In contrast to artification, however, this conjunction was
not one of acceptance but of resistance: artistic designers found the
“researchification” of artistic design problematical.
We shall examine the
origins and nature of this problematical situation before describing in detail
one successful artistic research project that demonstrates how knowledge and
understanding can be achieved through artistic methods. Additionally, we argue
that the project reveals the projective dimension of artistic design thinking
and making that, when introduced into research, can be seen as an element of
artification.
Finally, we address Naukkarinen’s
observation that advocates of artification see art as providing “something
other than what there already is in the area or activity to be artified.”[2]
In the closing sections of the text, we offer reasons why projective artistic
making and thinking can be understood as one kind of “something else” that art
has to offer to other professional fields.
2. The artification of research In their introduction to
this special issue of Contemporary
Aesthetics, Naukkarinen and Yuriko Saito quickly establish its focus:
“situations and processes in which something that is not regarded as art in the
traditional sense of the word is changing into something art-like or something
that takes its influences form artistic ways of thinking and practicing.” In
this paper, we focus on what might be described as the artification of design
research. However, in contrast to much of the literature discussed by
Naukkarinen, where specific fields, such as business, appear to be strategically
introducing artistic practices into their own practices, here we will explore the
conjunction of practices from the opposite direction by examining what happens
when art in the academy has reasons for conjoining the practice of research with
the practice of art. We might say that we will address the researchification of art. What we hope to show, however, is that
the challenge of unravelling certain
puzzles that have emerged through our exploration will yield insight into
certain characteristics of the work of art and works of art[3] that are recognized, perhaps tacitly, as
strategically useful by those fields that are open to artification. In short,
by understanding why art is problematized by research, we can gain an
appreciation of what art has to offer to other fields of inquiry and production.
It is perhaps not
surprising to find that creativity is often at the center of artification.
Naukkarinen notes that the intention of artification often appears to be “to
make companies more creative.” Naukkarinen enumerates a large number of features
of art that are seen by advocates of artification as being “something other
than what there already is in the area or activity to be artified.” Of these
many possible additions that art can make to another field, a number are
reflected in our findings and can be summarized as an ability to act without
water-proof evidence in situations demanding improvisation, where projective
ways of making could be substituted for methodological rigor.
One final point to note
before proceeding is that our paper focuses on design, not art. However, we
would argue that while art and design might have different functions, different
ends, different sociologies, and so on, each exhibits the characteristics that
we hope to illuminate below. In what follows, when referring to design that is
seen as sharing features with art, we will use the term artistic design.
3. From design to design research
It is important to our
story to appreciate that up to the late twentieth century, design education in
the United Kingdom developed along two lines, one rooted in the analytical and physical
sciences and emerging out of engineering and technology, and one aligned with
the humanities and arising out of art. This difference between foundations,
which also drove a distance between their educational and productive
trajectories, was reinforced by the institutional structure of education and
research. Prior to 1992, art-led design was mostly located within independent
colleges or polytechnic departments of art and design, the latter in most cases
resulting from the merger of pre-existing art and design college with
polytechnics. In contrast, engineering- and technology-led design was mostly
located in polytechnics and universities in non-artistic design departments. As
a consequence, engineering- and technology-led design has a tradition quite
different from that of art-led or artistic design.
Within the engineering- and
technology-driven field of design education, a tradition of design research
developed that sought to emulate the knowledge production achievements of the physical
sciences. “A desire to scientize design can be traced back to ideas in the twentieth-century
modern movement of design,” Nigel Cross observed.[4]
Design Science is the extension of scientific design to include the systematic
knowledge of design processes and methodology in addition to the scientific
underpinnings of the artifact, which is developed and refined through design
research projects, such as those described by Nigan Bayazit.[5]
4. Practice-led design research
While design research
developed in engineering and technology departments in the university, it
rarely penetrated the art and design schools in the polytechnic and independent
colleges. Indeed, these institutions
were not required or provided with income to undertake research under United Kingdom
science policy. However, in 1992, this binary divide was removed and polytechnics
were converted into universities. Additionally, the UK academic art and design
world became entitled to research funding, distributed via the Research
Assessment Exercise and the Arts and Humanities Research Council.
However, although research
became a priority, the nature of that research was by no means decided, and
this uncertainty stimulated an extended debate concerned with shaping research to
accommodate art and artistic design values. Research practices in a wide range
of academic fields were examined and found wanting. What they lacked can be
seen as encapsulated in the notion of practice-based or practice-led research, which
Carole Gray defined as
firstly, research which is
initiated in practice, where questions, problems, challenges are identified and
formed by the needs of practice and practitioners; and secondly... the research strategy is carried out through
practice, predominantly methodologies and specific methods familiar to us as
practitioners in the visual arts.[6]
The debate within which
this text is situated seeks to provide a substantive role for art and design
production and products in research, and, by so doing, points to problems in
determining the relation between the practice of research and the practices of
art and design production.[7]
To summarize, most
knowledge fields have established practices focused on the production of new
knowledge and understanding, that is, research. Engineering and technology
design has also established such practices, which draw upon the rational and
empirical traditions of the analytical and physical sciences. The research
practices of many of these fields might be said to have been inspected as
potential sites of artification by members of the fields of art and artistic
design and found to be uninviting. With this as our background, we can now
progress to a more concrete exploration of problems that arose when artists and
artistic designers were invited to engage with a particular design research
practice, problem-solving design research.
5. Problem-solving design research
Problem-solving design
research usually begins with problematic situations in the world that point to
a problematic situation in designing. The problem is then critiqued in order to
understand how we might expand design to encompass its solution. The critique then leads to a proposal for a
revised or new method of designing. For example, it might be observed that Web sites
are often unusable. Investigation might reveal a lack of effective usability
evaluation methods for Web site evaluation and redesign, thus encouraging
research to develop, test, and validate a new or enhanced way of designing
(represented by the red dot in Figure 1), in order to overcome the limitations
of current methods (represented by the lower, black circle in Figure 1).
Testing is achieved by applying the method to design or redesign an artifact
(Figure 1, green dot), which is then tested to ensure that it ameliorates or
eradicates the observed problem, thereby confirming the value of the new way of
designing. However, since a new or revised method has been produced, we don’t
just have a single solution: the method predicts a set of solutions.
Figure 1. The typical problem-solving design research process
The validated method stands
as the contribution to knowledge, and it is pretty easy to see how this kind of
problem-solving design research process satisfies the conditions of research.[8]
Up to the present, much design research might be classed as problem solving.
6. Artistic design research
Scrivener[9]
has described how his extensive experience
in shaping and delivering problem-solving design research projects proved
inconsistent with the interests of artistic designers. As noted earlier, problem-solving
design research focuses primarily on critique, design method, and testing.
Typically, designing is involved only to produce an artifact using the proposed
method so as to test its efficacy; thus, designing and design products play a
relatively minor part in the overall research process. However, artistic
researchers, who might be described as practice-based, practice- or art-led,
tend to be resistant to a process that diminishes the role of designing and
design products, that is, the work of and works of design, in research. Indeed,
the adjectives “practice-based,” “practice-led,” and “creative-production” can
be understood as signifying a tacit understanding of the potential of the work
and works of design as a means of generating and communicating new
understanding. However, if the use of these adjectives is to signify more than
just an attachment to habit, then we need to articulate more clearly the potential
of a research process that is led by the work of and works of design, and what
is actually meant by “led” in this context. In the following section, we will
describe, analyze, and interpret a particular artistic design research project
to throw light on what it means for a research project to be led by the work
and works of design; or, put another way, to be artified.
7. Narrating a creative-production design research project
7.1 the project
The
research project that we describe below concerned the design of interactive exhibits that support
children’s learning. The first achievement of this project was the production
of a working design prototype, called “Eye-jump.”[10]
At first sight, Eye-jump looks like a
normal skipping rope. However, when it is used, rotated light emitting diodes
embedded in the transparent rope are illuminated by display technology housed in
the skipping rope handles.
a) The
Eye-jump before skipping commences
b) Skipping reveals a lion image
Figure 2. The Eye-jump prototype shown when a) static and b) rotated
at display velocity
This
technology can be programmed to display images in a manner rather like the
cathode ray tube, where pixels are individually illuminated in sweeping raster
lines from the top to the bottom of the screen. Persistence of vision means
that we see a stable spatial and temporal image, rather than pixels written out
over time. In the case of Eye-jump, the surface of the screen is the part visible
to the viewer of the sphere created as the rope sweeps over the skipper’s head
and under his or her feet in constant rotation. As the rope rotates, the rope
diodes are changed to display the next line of the image, until the whole image
has been presented. This cycle is repeated for as long as the skipper maintains
the conditions for display. For children
and adults, the behavior of this apparently familiar plaything, the skipping
rope, is surprising, and this surprise represents a rupture in our
understanding of the world, which encourages curiosity and experimentation in
order to adjust our understanding to accommodate the surprising event.
To the researcher, the
invention of Eye-jump also represented a surprise, an unfamiliar but desirable
product that needed to be understood through its cognitive and behavioral
effects and the potential it offered for the design of related products. The
work of understanding, which, for the most part, happened after the creation of
Eye-jump, led to a conceptual framework called the Creativity Surprise Model (CSM), which established a motivational
relationship between a surprise event and the generation of creative thinking.
The model, which was supported by the evaluation of the Eye-jump prototype by 118
primary school children, also functions as a conceptual framework for designers
of interactive museum exhibits that stimulate creativity in children.
In the following section,
we examine the process that produced these doctoral project results through an
interview between the supervisor, Scrivener, and the student, Zheng.[11]
7.2 narrating the research process
Stephen Scrivener (SS): Can you
say something about how your project developed?
Su Zheng (SZ): The initial schedule
included literature reviews of museology and the application of interactive
media in museums, and observational studies in museums. All of these were
designed to identify problems with current design approaches. The intention was
to develop a new way of designing to enhance children’s learning in the museum
setting. However, this approach to research presented a number of challenges,
as the experience of undertaking the initial research led to a loss of
direction due to the sheer quantity of new information that did not seem to
connect together. Therefore, the problem
to be solved proved very difficult to identify. As a result, the initial
research then shifted focus to the problems with the interactive exhibits
themselves, which appeared to be mainly those of technological failures and
non-intuitive interfaces. The challenge then became to consider how they could
be improved or fixed. Several design ideas were generated but the results were
not satisfactory, primarily because merely making improvements to the user
interface was not satisfying to me as a designer.
SS: Can you say why you found the prospect of
resolving or refining existing problematic situations unsatisfactory?
SZ: As a designer, the ultimate excitement is to
create something new, to introduce a new perspective on an object or habitual
behavior. Hopefully you can make a
contribution towards transforming the way we think about our world.[12]
Hence, in my case, making modest refinements that produce small improvements to
existing interactive exhibits did not provide sufficient motivation to drive
the research forward. In my opinion, designers need to be emotional and
passionate in order to create designs that achieve such a connection. Emotional
commitment should be embraced and regarded as a valuable asset for the
designer.[13]
SS: How then did you steer the research in a
direction that connected more strongly with your personal motivation as a
designer?
SZ: In order to re-direct the study, a question
came to mind: What are the options if I discard the current design research
approach? The question led to a set of design objectivities based on an
appreciation of surprising design: I should produce a design that exemplifies
an original idea and provides a unique experience; is fun and playful; is intuitive
for children to use; and motivates children’s learning. These were the only
foundational objectives that I set myself.
The intention was to leave enough space and freedom to explore design
opportunities.
The design
process was guided by the belief that many good ideas are inspired by events
and interactions with the ordinary objects that we encounter in our everyday
lives. These objects provide experiences
that are genuinely meaningful and resonate directly with the general public.
This belief was reinforced by an exhibit I saw at ARS Electronica, Linz,
Austria, called “Tool’s Life”, which helped me to appreciate the potential of
surprise and surprising artifacts.
Figure 3. Interacting with “Tool’s Life”
SS: All of this suggests that you redirected your
attention to emphasize designing as a way of asking and responding to questions,
and that at this stage you had developed a commitment to the potential of making
the familiar unfamiliar, so as to produce surprising artifacts?
SZ: Yes, a creative idea doesn’t have to be
complicated or technologically advanced. It can be delivered by a humble
everyday object that people take for granted. In the case of the exhibit above
(Figure 3), narratives were created through knifes and forks on a dining table.
The new interpretation of the relationship between these everyday objects
motivates the user to explore them further.
A “wow”
factor or surprising event can be simply interpreted as something that people
have not seen before and that runs contrary to what they believe or expect will
occur. This appreciation directed the research towards the phenomenon of surprise,
with the additional expectation that inspiration could also be gained from
studying another master of surprise: the magician and illusionist. The prospect
of discovering “what might be” by combining the techniques of magic with
appropriate digital technology was compelling.
SS: So you were undertaking observations and
exploring relevant theory, but this was directed to moving the design process
forward rather than seeking to obtain a systematic understanding of a given problem
and the knowledge domains relevant to it?
SZ: Yes, and at this point in the research a
discovery was made while experimenting with the techniques of magic, i.e., the persistence
of vision. A few ideas were generated, which were based on this phenomenon: an
image was projected on a fan, a vibrating string, a waving rod and a ribbon.
a) the
string concept b) the rod concept c)
the ribbon concept
Figure 4. Experimental design idea
However,
there were problems with each of these ideas as they presented health and
safety risks for children. Furthermore,
they lacked an intuitive connection to familiar experience. Eventually,
following a series of dead ends, the idea of using a simple skipping rope as a
visual display was identified for further development as it most elegantly satisfied
the original design criteria.
SS: But how does the idea of a skipping rope
satisfy the criterion of motivating children’s learning?
SZ: The skipping rope does not at first sight appear
to have a strong, if any, connection with children’s learning. However, the proposition
was made that if an ordinary object could suddenly produce a wow factor
(surprise), then there was a strong possibility that it could help children
change the way they think about how things work because their relationship to
everyday experience would have changed dramatically. To discover new
possibilities in a familiar object is likely to be a positive learning process
because it stimulates inquiry that results in new knowledge of the object
itself and its structural relationship to everything else. With these thoughts
in mind, the Eye-jump concept—the skipping rope that functions as an image
display—was selected for further development.
SS: You talk about believing that Eye-jump could
function as an aid to learning, but isn’t it a risky strategy to draw on
beliefs that you may not be able to provide any reasons for holding?
SZ: Although I could not offer a deductive or
inductive argument for the conclusion that Eye-jump would help children’s
learning, I had a strong hunch that it at least could provide a new perspective
for children’s learning processes.
SS: So the major personal achievement at this
point was that you had developed a novel design concept, which you had some
grounds for believing had the potential to stimulate children’s learning. How
did you go about confirming the anticipated cognitive value of the device and understanding
how that value could be explained?
SZ: The idea of backing up my claims for the value
of the Eye-jump device was daunting, given that I had not yet uncovered any
theories that might support my claim, which also implied an interdisciplinary
perspective, i.e., physics, developmental psychology, museum studies, and
interactive media design. It was at this point that I began to focus much more
on ”why” questions. This questioning, sometimes presented by supervisors and
others, proved very helpful in articulating the fields of inquiry that should
be examined with a view to uncovering knowledge that would be helpful in
refining an explanation. They identified exegetic elements that needed to be
supported by understanding, e.g., child development, museology, and educational
research. Initially, questions could only be answered as propositions, but
following examination and interpretation of prior knowledge, answers could be
supported with reasons grounded in this understanding. The attempt to
understand and explain the potential of the Eye-jump device required
connections to be made between seemingly unrelated theories.
SS: In other words, although you had engaged with
much of this material at the early stages of the research in a broad and
superficial manner, it was only after the design had been produced that a
focused search was undertaken. Furthermore, was this task undertaken primarily
as a means of explaining the value of the device beyond that of a child’s
novelty toy?
SZ: Yes. 8. Describing the Eye-jump project process
It
is evident from this account of the Eye-jump project process that we are not
dealing with a problem-solving project as described in section 5, above. In the
first place, the process is not driven by the identification or elaboration of
a problem observed in a given situation or class of situation, as is the case
in the example provided in section 5. Here the task appears to be driven by a
set of loosely related ideas selected under the operation of a personal belief
system and for their ability to engage the researcher’s motivation, commitment,
and emotional engagement. Also evident in the narrative is a resistance to
being narrowed down to a particular problem for analysis, interpretation and
resolution (Figure 5, below). We can
also see that, perhaps due to personal beliefs, interests, and motivations, the
researcher’s preference was to move this rather loose nexus of interests and
concerns forward through a process of design ideation and assessment. In this
particular project, the Eye-jump concept emerged at a relatively early stage in
the process (represented in Figure 5 by the red dot) and its novelty was
recognized by all concerned.
Figure 5. The Eye-jump project research process
However, what was not clear
at this point was what constituted this novelty and how it addressed the
initial intention of the research, which was “to develop a new way of designing
to enhance children’s learning in the museum setting.” In other words, and
consistent with Scrivener’s[14]
proposition that artistic design research is directed toward the production of
novel apprehension, the Eye-jump concept presented a surprising artifact that
remained to be fully understood.
The
process of understanding was driven by a demand for explanation of why and how
this novel artifact fulfilled the research ambition of the project. (See in Figure
5, above, “reflecting and understanding
of potential.”) Finding such
explanations required intense engagement, with prior understanding in a number
of different fields, all of which are implicit in the research aim and criteria
outlined above in section 7. However, in contrast to the function of the
literature review in most conventional research approaches, including
problem-solving design research, this was not done in order to identify a
question or problem worthy of subsequent research but to account for a novel
design solution.
This
accounting for the surprising artifact enabled a theory to be constructed that
drew upon prior understanding of cognitive surprise, cognitive development,
learning, and creativity. The behavioral and cognitive affects and effects of
engagement with the device were then experimentally tested, and the theory was used
to produce a framework of principles and criteria that other designers might
employ to construct surprising artifacts. Overall, the process contributed to
an expanded understanding of design thinking and making. What remains to be
considered are the specifically artistic features of this process as compared
to problem-solving design research. This is what we will now turn to in the
following section. 9. Comparing the problem-solving and Eye-jump processes
The first point to note is
that both the typical problem-solving process and the process characterized by
the Eye-jump are directed toward realizing desirable change in the designed
world. However, problem-solving design research begins with an undesirable
situation in the designed world that prompts reflection, such as, “Why does
this design not do what it ought to do?” That is to say, the process begins
with the recognition that there is something to be known. In contrast, the
Eye-jump story begins with making and thinking that is not attached to a
specific instance of uncertainty and reflection. Rather, the initial making and
thinking in the Eye-jump process created a surprising and desirable artefactual
situation. Additionally, in the problem-solving process, a theory explaining
how to enhance the undesirable situation is postulated, and only when this is
in mind does the process of making begin. In the Eye-jump project, a theory
explaining the potential application of the surprising situation was proposed
after the situation had been realized. Finally, in the problem-solving process,
a theory of the problem is transformed into a theory of its solution, which is
then affirmed through the testing of a new design, whereas in the Eye-jump
project it was the potential of the surprising situation that was uncovered and
evaluated. However, overall, both processes appear to achieve the same outcome,
that is, a new way of designing. So do these differences matter?
When we confront an undesirable
artefactual situation, we are aware of something that fails to meet our desire.
In other words, there is a cognitive interest, goal, or aim that the situation
fails to live up to. This gap between the world as it is and the world as we
desire it to be is registered negatively; it stands as the mark of the fact
that the artefactual world is less than our ideas tell us it should be.
Whatever we do to close this gap amounts to the satisfaction of ideas that we
already possess; it is a matter of making our ideas work as we want them to.
Under these circumstances, our design acts are constrained within the bounds of
our present ideas. It is this kind of situation that is perhaps reflected in
Zheng’s discontent that “merely making
improvements to the user interface was not satisfying to me as a designer.”
As we have seen in the
process described in section 8, the search for problems, whether through
empirical observation or the critical analysis of prior understanding, is
eschewed. Instead, the researcher focused on design ideation guided by a set of
unarticulated associations. The result was the creation of an artifact that
most people recognize as pleasingly surprising. If we consider a successful outcome
of the problem-solving design research process, then we would expect it to
register satisfaction, even pleasure, in the viewer or user. However, we would
argue that it would not register surprise. Rather, the artifact will be
experienced as familiar, even obvious; something that we knew was possible even
if we weren’t aware of this understanding prior to the experience. Cognitive
surprise, on the other hand, is accompanied by confusion and uncertainty
because we find ourselves in the midst of an experience that is outside of our immediate
comprehension. When cognitive surprise is registered as desirable or
pleasurable, we can say that the experience stands as the mark of the fact that
the artefactual world is more than our ideas tell us it ought to be. In short,
our ideas have to catch up with our experience.
This implies that, in order
to create desirable and surprising artifacts, it is necessary to develop
techniques that detach the maker from familiar ideas and the habits of design
thinking and making that are guided by those ideas. The ties between prior
knowledge and experience need to be loosened in both thinking and making in
order for them to have a projective character. It is the will and capacity to
develop means that produce surprising and desirable artifacts that we
understand as artistic. In section 3 we argued that problem-solving research
sits more comfortably with engineering design as a mode of research than it
does with artistic design research. We can now postulate that this uneasy fit
arises out of the latter’s inclination toward projective making and thinking,
which benefits from a strong element of creative intuition. Hence, the coupling
of the notion of artistic design with that of research may be understood as the
artification of design research.
10. Artified design research, and artification in general
We have described, then,
how the introduction of projective artistic design making and thinking can be
understood as artifying research. In this section, we want to consider the
relevance of this mode of innovation to non-research practices and the kinds of
knowledge domains discussed in the artification literature. What we hope to
show is that artistic design, when understood as projective in the sense
elaborated here, cannot be interpreted through the two highly influential
theories of professional practice: Herbert Simon’s sciences of the artificial
and Donald Schön’s reflective practice.
While the work of these two scholars contributes to the ideas and
methods at work today in the professions, we hope to show that projective
practice offers something beyond them.
If technology- and
engineering-led design found inspiration for the development of models of
scientific and rational design and design research in the writing of Herbert
Simon,[15]
then artistic designers found encouragement in Donald Schön’s theory of reflective
practice.[16] Schön
begins The Reflective Practitioner: How Professionals
Think in Action by observing that “The professions have become essential to
the very functioning of our society….We look to professionals for the
definition and solution of our problems, and it is through them that we strive
for social progress.”[17]
Nevertheless, Schön goes on to argue that at the same time that they recognized
their indispensability, the professions experienced a crisis of confidence that
hinged “centrally on the question of professional knowledge. Is professional
knowledge adequate to fulfill the espoused purposes of the professions? Is it
sufficient to meet the societal demands which the professions have helped to
create?”[18]
From the literature on artification, it would appear that it is the professions
that are turning to art and design for inspiration, perhaps in the belief that these
domains have something to offer that will help them to meet societal demands
and maintain confidence in professional competence.
Schön was critical of the
professions’ ability to solve the observed crisis because “We are bound to an
epistemology of practice which leaves us at a loss to explain, or even to describe,
the competences to which we now give overriding importance.”[19] The epistemology he refers to here is that of technical rationality, “the view
of professional knowledge which has most powerfully shaped both our thinking
about the professions and the institutional relations of research, education,
and practice – professional activity consists in instrumental problem solving
made rigorous by the application of scientific theory and technique.”[20]
Given that the crisis of
confidence experienced by the professions was first described by Simon, it is
reasonable to assume that the education of professionals was subsequently
brought under a stronger regime of technical rationality, in which knowledge is
understood as structured according to a hierarchy of the basic, the applied,
and the situational. The engineering or
problem-solving design research model described earlier adheres to a technical
rationalist epistemology of professional knowledge, and, as we have seen, such
thinking cannot account for the process described in sections 7 through 9. This
being the case, we are left to consider the possibility that by using Schon’s
theory of reflective practice, the
response to this crisis of professional confidence might be seen as a
something else than what there is already in the area or activity to be
artified.
Although both Simon’s and
Schön’s scholarship in this field sought to provide a solution to the crisis of
professional confidence, Simon kept faith with technical rationality, whereas Schön
was highly critical of its limitations. In everyday action, he argued, our
knowledge is ordinarily tacit, implicit in our patterns of action and in our
feel for the stuff with which we are dealing.
Our knowing is in action. Similarly, the professional depends on tacit
knowing-in-action. Nevertheless, we often think about what we are doing, and usually
reflection on knowing-in-action goes together with reflection on the stuff at
hand. When the professional reflects on knowing-in-action, he reflects on the
understanding that has been implicit in his action; understanding that he
surfaces, criticizes, restructures, and embodies in further action. According
to Schön, “It is this entire process of reflection-in-action which is central
to the ‘art’ by which practitioners sometimes deal well with situations of
uncertainty, instability, uniqueness, and value conflict.”[21]
In the Reflective Practioner, Schön articulated the gap between how we
think about and theorize practitioner competence and the realities of practice.
According to Schön, in practice, professionals function as reflective
practitioners rather than as rational problem solvers. Since its publication in
1983, many professions have taken and built upon the ideas articulated in The Reflective Practitioner to invigorate
professional education, training, and practice. If it is reasonable to suppose
that the domains to be artified now comprise skilled problem solvers and
reflective practitioners, then this suggests that reflective practice is not the
key “something else” that is sought from art. Hence, if we are to show that projective
making and thinking is one kind of “something else” that non-art fields are
seeking, we need to provide grounds for believing that this mode of practice cannot
be interpreted as reflective practice.
Schön’s primary insights
were that, in practice, ends are not known and cannot be known in advance
because every practice situation is unique and practitioners draw heavily on
tacit knowledge and appreciations acquired over years of practice to deal with
the uniqueness of each new task. In short, Schön took the practice situation as
given and focused first on how the practitioner comes to understand the uniqueness
of a particular situation through the surfacing and theorizing of the failure of
practitioner knowledge and, second, how that knowledge is expanded to satisfy
the demands of the situation at hand.
Therefore, whether we are
talking about rational problem solving or reflective practice, at some point we
are confronted by a particular situation that we find undesirable and our goal
is to eradicate or ameliorate that dissatisfaction. What the two approaches
offer are different ways of dealing with situational problems and different
ways of marshaling prior skills, knowledge, and understanding so as to resolve
them. However, does Schön’s theory of reflective practice explain how we can
step out of the artefactual world as it
presents itself to us, and out of our habitual practices of production and
thought, to create possible artefactual worlds that register desirable surprise?
Schön argued that two
variables, consequences in relation to intention and desirability of all
perceived consequences, intended or unintended, combine to constitute four
conditions for reflection: undesirable surprise; desirable or neutral surprise;
no surprise that is desirable or neutral; and no surprise that is undesirable. Both
undesirable conditions demand reflection, whereas the desirable conditions can
be passed over without reflection, regardless of whether or not they are
accompanied by surprise. Schön explained the response to desirable surprise as
follows:
In the second case [desirable surprise], the
inquirer’s expectation is disappointed but the consequences taken as a whole
are considered desirable. The associated theory is refuted but the move is
affirmed…. According to the logic of affirmation, the move has succeeded…she
[the inquirer] need not reflect on it….[22]
In the theory of reflective practice, the logic of
affirmation has priority over that of confirmation. “In the practice context,
priority is placed on the interest in change and therefore on the logic of
affirmation.”[23] What
this means is that as long as a move is judged desirable, it is affirmed
regardless of whether or not the element of surprise is present. In short, all
actions are viewed as determined by and measured against intentions, which are
viewed as being largely tacit until reflection brings them to the surface. In
short, reflective practice is bounded by prior knowledge and present conditions;
prior habits may be adjusted, but only so far as is necessary to accommodate
the occurrence of undesirable outcomes of design moves intended to resolve the
given situation. Consequently, Schön’s theory of reflective practice does not
appear to explain how we can step out of the artefactual world as it presents
itself to us, and out of our habitual practices of production and thought, so
as to create possible artefactual worlds that register desirable surprise. Both
problem-solving design and reflective practice tend to reduce ambition to
questions such as, “How can the world be made to be better than it currently
is?” In contrast, projective thinking and making supports questions of the form
“What kind of world can be made?”
Since the turn of the nineteenth century, artistic
designers and artists have devised a host of methods designed to disrupt
familiar ways of working and thinking artistically, which include new
conceptual and material techniques of production, and the appropriation of non-art
materials, objects, practices, and theories, in the constant re-negotiation of
what we understand as the work and works of art. One such strategy is the
appropriation of, or relocation into, research practices from related or
distant fields, as was the case for Zheng, whose practice was disrupted by the
need to negotiate the methods and means of a problem-solving approach to design
research. Such practices loosen the connection between the practitioner and his
or her habitual modes of doing and thinking;
it is perhaps these practices that non-art fields recognize and that we
have sought to illustrate through our account of the artification of research
as one kind of “something else” that artified domains didn’t have before
artification.
Stephen
A. R. Scrivener s.scrivener@chelsea.arts.ac.uk
Stephen A. R. Scrivener is Professor of Design
as Chelsea College of Art and Design, London, UK. Having for many years worked
on the conceptual and technical development of computer-mediated design
technology, since the early 1990s his work has focused on the theory and
practice of practice-based art and design research.
Su Zheng szheng21@yahoo.co.uk
Su Zheng is currently working in the creative media industry
and is currently attached to Phoenix TV Ltd (Europe sector), London, UK. Her
extensive research experience and practical creative skills guide and inform
her experimental approach to production in the field of mass media.
Published on April 5, 2012.
Endnotes
[1] Ossi Naukkarinen,
“Variations in Artification,” Contemporary
Aesthetics (Special Volume 4, 2012), Introduction.
[3] In this essay, we mean the expressions 'the work of
art' and 'works of art' to stand for the labor, 'the work of art,' and products, 'works of art,' recognizing that the use of such terms as ’labor’ and ‘products’
and their synonyms might be problematical for some readers. In contrast, it is
our view that the term ‘work’ is more receptive to the manifold ways of
thinking about the production, presentation, and reception of art.
[4]
Nigel
Cross, “Designerly Ways of knowing: Design Discipline Versus Design Science,” Design Issues 17, no. 3 (2001), 49-55;
ref. on 49.
[5]
Nigan
Bayazit, “Investigating Design: A Review of Forty Years of Design Research,” Design Issues 20, no. 1 (2004), 16-29.
[6] Carole Gray, “Inquiry Through Practice: Developing
Appropriate Research Strategies in Art and Design,” in No Guru, No Method, ed. Pia Strandman (Helsinki: Helsinki
University of Arts and Design, 1998), p. 83. For other texts dealing with the
debate around practice-based research, see Henk Borgdorff, The Debate on Research in the Arts (Bergen: National Academy of the
Arts Bergen, 2006); Estelle Barrett and Barbara Bolt, Practice as Research: Approaches to Creative Enquiry (London: I.B.
Taurus and Co. Ltd., 2007); Graeme Sullivan, Art Practice as Research: Inquiry in Visual Arts (Los Angeles:
Sage, 2010); Michael Biggs and Henrik Karlsson, The Routledge Companion to Research in the Arts (Abingdon, Oxon:
Routledge, 2010).
[7]Stephen
A.R. Scrivener, “Characterising Creative-Production Doctoral Projects in Art
and Design,” International Journal of
Design Sciences and Technology 10, no. 2 (2002), 25-44.
[8]
Scrivener
has defined research as “1) a systematic investigation, 2) conducted
intentionally, 3) to acquire new knowledge, understanding, insights, etc. that
is 4) justified and 5) communicated 6) about a subject.” Stephen A. R.
Scrivener, “The Roles of Art and Design Process and Object in Research,” in Reflections and Connections: On the
Relationship Between Creative Production and Academic Research, eds.
Nithikul Nimkulrat, and Tim O’Riley (Helsinki: University of Art and Design
Helsinki, 2009), p. 69.
[9]
Scrivener
(2002), 25-44.
[10]
The
Eye-jump concept is currently protected by patent.
[11] In hindsight, we recognize that our task of
understanding the process reported here would have been greatly assisted by
more systematic recording. By presenting the description in the style of an
interview, our aim is to acknowledge the retrospective sense-making and even the
constructed nature of the report, thereby recognizing the bounded rationality
of the account. See Herbert A Simon, Models of Man: Social and Rational (New
York: John Wiley and Sons, Inc., 1957).
[12]
Caroline
Hummels and Joep Frens, “Designing for
the Unknown: A Design Process for the Future Generation of Highly Interactive
Systems and Products,” in New
Perspectives in Design Education: Proceedings of the Engineering and Product
Design Education Conference, Volume 1, eds. Anna Clarke, Mike Evatt, Peter
Hogarth, Joaquim Lloveras and Luis Pons (Barcelona: Design Society, 2008),
204-209.
[14]
Scrivener,
“Characterising Creative-Production.”
[15] Herbert A. Simon, The Sciences of the Artificial (Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT
Press, 1969).
[16] Donald. Schön, The
Reflective Practitioner [originally published 1983] (Aldershot, Hants:
Ashgate Publishing Ltd., 1991).
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