Art Class Memories


At primary school ‘Crafts Class’ was organized as an after-school activity and these ‘lessons’ were -at this level- more about doing crafts than learning about fine arts. Hammering, sewing, sawing, making ceramic pots or tiles, doing wood work, I still remember the sense of freedom whilst working on various projects. The name of the creative teacher organizing these after school courses I might probably remember the rest of my life and that is telling.

Classroom queens lined up for my help at middle school. That made me very nervous but I did my best and hoped that by helping them out with drawing a penguin or a dove, they would treat me kinder, which, of course, was not the case. There is an order to all things, especially regarding classroom popularity.

My fellow high school students were a rare mix. There were drugs and alcohol using flower-power students as well as conservative ones who were dressed too stiffly for school. The whole social and political spectrum was represented creating a special tension and tolerance. Our teacher taught us art-history as well as drawing and painting. She did this with infectious enthusiasm. She taught various art movements by studying various artworks. Whilst the darkness in the classroom made us all sleepy, our eyes were solidly glued to the wall on which large artworks were projected.

It was our teacher’s unwavering love for the arts that made us feel ignited. The visual stimulation and learning to identify art stopped about halfway through the lesson; for the remaining time our teacher challenged us to make art. It was not about being good at drawing technically, but about being refreshingly creative or extraordinarily artistic. I can say hand on heart that the art-classes of my high school teacher worked their educative magic for decades to come.

I benefited from all art classes and I am deeply grateful to all my art teachers I had, in and outside the walls of my schools.

Paula Kuitenbrouwer

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