Creativity, imagination, learning and pedagogy are processes we feel we have intention with but are able to be intuitive with at the same time. Processes are formulaic however there can be a shift in change and a moment of not knowing, directed by curiosity and realised via play. Spaces Between takes you on a journey, making sense of the space and time travelled when experiencing this transition; a sensory and multi-layered experience of a liminal realm. This space, connecting inner and outer worlds (Winnicott, 1958) is emergent, speculative and internalised as personal revelations take place.
My praxis began as a pedagogical discovery, taking me on an outward journey travelling an evolving pathway and retrieving theoretical puzzle pieces; making sense of my formal art teaching, photographic practice and research. I have married up multiple identities as teacher, artist, leader, facilitator, carer, learner and student with political and moral views regarding places of education, realising frustrations and making comparisons with pedagogical experiences. My making, planning, researching, playing and figuring out has led me to a familiar place, a place where I was all along. My outer journey has led me full circle, inwardly to myself and to the darkroom. I have travelled the spaces between; a transition from not knowing to being aware, from an outer space to somewhere internal, from the physical to the imaginative, from something familiar to a place that is changed; from the classroom to the darkroom. The difference is now I have an altered position within that space. Everything is the same, yet different. And so, a new beginning starts.
The darkroom door, dividing learning parallels, is a threshold to a space where moments of encounter are fundamental to pedagogical realisations. But how do we document that experience? How do we communicate a knowing in the moment? How do we articulate a time in space (known via our senses) as an incident? How to we relate the outer physical to the inner imaginative? And how will an understanding of this transition change the way we teach and learn; having internalised something familiar but in a different way? To understand this further, and to better articulate my interpretation of the spaces between and the feelings experienced when entering and working in the darkroom, I will be using Winnicott’s theory of Transitional Space (Winnicott, 1958). Regarding early child development, Winnicott devised the concept of not-me possessions (Winnicott, 1958, p. 229) and the experiences entangled in the theoretical spaces between having bodily connections to object connections. He coined this zone / time / alteration / shift / change as Transitional Space (Winnicott, 1958, p. 231) uniting both inner and outer worlds. The not-me possessions and the fundamental joining of both person and material object allows transitional space and moments of revelation to occur. This concept of space and time is understood as an event and can be experienced when one encounters with darkroom activities; moments of playful creations transpire to pedagogical realisations. Having an awareness of this development is described by Ellsworth as actualising the transitional space, through a “constant movement of folding and unfolding of inside and outside” (Ellsworth, 2005, p. 59). In the darkroom, there is a continuous back and forth from imagination to physical creativity. The mind and body respond to one another as you playfully rearrange objects, reorder chemical processes and invite additional elements to the experimentation; purposeful and instinctual.
There is a redundancy about the room when it is not in use. The space comes alive as fluorescent lights flicker off and are replaced with a warm red hue. Inside, the space is maternal; a womb-like environment nurturing and encouraging of collaborations between human and the non-human. There is an inner body experience as you become a fundamental organ of the machine. With you inside, the body is alive; the clock’s second-hand ticking is synonymous with a beating heart. Elements of measured time and fluidity occur simultaneously as stopwatches pulsate and water and chemical mixes trickle and flow. Transitional space breathes life via movement and energy; it is switched on as electricity powers the devices within. Pedagogy is used through the space and its material objects; the non-human teaches, and the human learns. Pedagogy acts as a connective between external and internal; bringing the two together and allowing us to be present in both outer and inner spaces, at the same time. Creativity is synchronised with imagination; a harmonious alliance where known knowledge and curiosity will take you to a place of further understanding. Ellsworth explains, “transitional space is an “answer” that provokes us to keep thinking” (Ellsworth, 2005, p.59). What you already know makes you aware of what you don’t know. You’re fully conscious of your sense of self as you experience your learning self (Winnicott, 1958). The room is a mysterious and an anomalous learning space and so, inevitably, the materials inside form anomalous objects for learning (Ellsworth, 2005). Our interactions change as we are aware of the materials and their unique qualities; differentiating them according to size, weight, opacity and strength. Light all of a sudden becomes tangible; particles, protons and neutrons that cannot be held but can be stopped, which cannot be touched but can be manipulated. You construct, create, make, plan, play and experiment with awareness; accessing material with meaning.
The concept of transitional space can be likened to Coleridge’s theory of the Suspension of Disbelief (Coleridge, 1817). This idea of observing the surreal (often described as crossing the magic circle) is a technique used within the gaming world and with regards to augmented reality. Within this context, relationships between the person, the game, real rules and fictional worlds are defined as spaces of interplay (Juul, 2005, p. 67) as boundaries and intersections of two distinct realms are established. The idea of crossing the threshold is cleverly orchestrated in games and in entertainment, encouraging audiences to allow themselves to believe in what plays out in front of them; like a theatre curtain as it opens taking you into the imaginative narrative, and as it closes, making you aware of when you are back in the real world. Similarly, the darkroom door leading to a safe place, dimly lit by a safe light, entices learners to let go and cross the threshold. There is a literal journey and a passing from one dimension to another. From the classroom to the darkroom; a parallel world.
Spaces Between begins with a visual of a material object. This object acts as a portal / doorway / iris / lens connecting both outer and inner realms and authorises a purposeful avoidance of submersion into an alternative sphere; guiding the viewer to let go. The object is multi-layered in processes, in physical form and amalgamated with further layers to awaken senses via movement, visuals and sound in film. Chemigrams, photograms and lumen prints have been stitched and bound together, forming a configuration of textures and patterns created by light and chemicals. Viewers are slowly transported through the centre into a sacred space beyond the portal. The light fades to darkness and scenes become biological, internal and visceral. With every soft blink, a new image appears, slowly rotating as they come into view. Physics are challenged by teasing light through oddly shaped transparent bodies. X-rays appear; black, white and inverted. Molecular visuals take you to a different space as you float through the imagery; contemplating the idea of macro and micro. We know we are inside however we feel small and insignificant in comparison to the space and galaxies around us. Images fade to black. The dark screen is interrupted by flashes of red. The clock’s second-hand is ticking simultaneously to the hurried fluttering of the stopwatch. There is a sense of time travelled; the space you are in is emergent. In a flash, white light appears; bright and unexpected. Photographic images flicker synchronised to the sound of water dripping. A final image develops. There is a moment of not knowing and the image fades into the darkness. You stare, you wait. The clock begins to tick, and the viewer is transitioned back to the outer world. Shutters blink, glowing red as you surface back to the light; folding and unfolding, inside and out.
REFERENCE LIST
Coleridge, S.T. (1817). Biographia Literaria.
Chiswick, London: Whittingham, College House
Ellsworth, E.A., (2005). Places of Learning: Media, Architecture, Pedagogy.
London: Routledge
Juul, J., (2005). Half-Real: Video Games between Real Rules and Fictional Worlds.
Boston: The MIT Press
Winnicott, D., (1958). Collected Papers. Through Paediatrics to Psycho-Analysis.
Transitional Objects and Transitional Phenomena. A Study of the First Not-Me Possession.
Oxon: Tavistock Publications Limited