Turns out art can happen anywhere…
I am not an artist. In elementary school, my handprint turkeys turned out to be grotesque monsters, my stick figures were blobs, and my watercolors ran so much they earned a metal in the local 5k.
So, when CFI Educator Rob Thomas told us we were going to be taking some time to do a nature based art project, my mind reverted directly back to second grade; Mrs. Bashuk slowly shaking her head at my attempt to color within the lines.
Rob wanted to playtest a piece of CFI’s curriculum called “Art In Nature.” Using the Beetles Learning Cycle as his guide, Rob had created a lesson plan designed to create connection to nature through art.
The first phase of the Learning Cycle is invitation. As we walked down a path to Mill Creek, Rob invited us into the lesson by asking us to come up with a group definition for the word “Art.” With Mill Creek flowing by on one side, rock images covering a nearby sandstone wall, and the sounds of wildlife echoing through the canyon, it was unsurprisingly difficult to come up with a succinct definition. Is art intentional? Who gets to decide whether something is art – the creator or beholder? Does it have to have a creator, or can art occur naturally? Is art inherently beautiful? Inspirational? Is it required to evoke feelings? Can art be alive?
Rob let the conversation evolve, then eventually reeled us back in to wax reality.
I was expecting him to share about how “Mirriam-Webster defines art as…” but instead, he left our discussion unresolved and we transitioned directly into the next part of the lesson: Exploration. Rob said we are going to focus on visual art, and assigned us each a “basic element.” The elements included line, shape, color, texture, space, and a few other basic visual components of art. Our task was to explore the area around us and collect examples of our artistic element to share with the group. I was suddenly taking note of every single instance of color around me.
I collected leaves, rocks, sticks, dirt, sand, and anything else I could find with a unique color. I noticed that the desert palate is far more diverse than at first glance. The group explored the area for about 15 minutes and arranged our examples in a circle.
The “Concept Invention” phase of the Learning Cycle is the instructor’s opportunity to impart new knowledge to their students. We used each other’s examples to define each of the elements. It turns out Color comprises three separate aspects. There’s hue – the general tone of the color, there’s value – a description of how light or dark the color is, and there’s intensity – described as strong and bright or faint and dull. Without realizing it, I had collected examples to demonstrate all these different aspects of color! Mrs. Bashuk would be proud…
Once we had some new definitions under our belt, it was time to apply what we had learned! Rob gave us about 40 minutes to plan and create a piece of art using only natural materials found around the creek. Maybe it was the heat of the day, but I felt compelled to integrate the creek itself into my art piece and decided to create a rock sculpture. I chose the rocks carefully, varied the shape and color of my stack, and endlessly tweaked the balance to form a unique, precarious cairn emerging from the middle of the rushing creek.
The 40 minutes (and the extra 5 minutes we all begged for) flowed quickly by. Eventually it was time to wrap up our creation and get ready for the Gallery Art Walk. Rob decided to structure our Reflection as if we were touring a gallery opening. The artist could introduce their piece by only sharing the title. Then, they had to remain silent while the rest of the group commented on it. Afterwards, the artist could share about their process if they wished.
In the span of a glorious afternoon, Rob transformed 6 mudstained, creek-wet outdoor educators into erudite artists and critics. If only Mrs. Bashuk could see me now!
Rob encouraged us to provide positive and meaningful commentary, specifically highlighting the use of the artistic elements we had learned previously in the lesson. Thanks to our new vocabulary, instead of “Wow, it’s so beautiful,” comments addressed how the meaningful use of line encouraged the eye to explore the juxtaposition of static and dynamic texture. Or how the exploration of space within the piece highlighted the varying importance of shape and evoked a competing sense of emptiness and fulfillment.
In the span of a glorious afternoon, Rob transformed 6 mudstained, creek-wet outdoor educators into erudite artists and critics. If only Mrs. Bashuk could see me now!
Art is transformative and healing. Walking back to the trailhead, I felt a sense of euphoria and accomplishment. Before that hike, I had not considered myself an artist. I still struggle with defining art, but I now have the perspective to notice the infinite art around us. Thanks to the lesson, my relationship both with myself and with nature has taken on a new hue. Now, I consider myself an artist and see the natural world as a canvas, teacher, and source of creativity.
About the Author
Brennan Patrick Gillis is a writer, guide, and artist! based out of Moab, UT. He works as the Director of Marketing and Communications for the Canyonlands Field Institute, and spends his free time getting lost in the canyons of the Colorado Plateau.