Education Tech Research Dev (2009) 57:511–528 DOI 10.1007/s11423-007-9060-7 DEVELOPMENT ARTICLE
Aesthetic principles for instructional design Patrick E. Parrish
Published online: 29 August 2007 Ó Association for Educational Communications and Technology 2007
Abstract This article offers principles that contribute to developing the aesthetics of instructional design. Rather than describing merely the surface qualities of things and events, the concept of aesthetics as applied here pertains to heightened, integral experience. Aesthetic experiences are those that are immersive, infused with meaning, and felt as coherent and complete. Any transformative learning experience will have significant aesthetic qualities, and all instructional situations can benefit from attention to these qualities. Drawn from aesthetics theory and research and informed by current ID and learning theories, a set of five first principles and twelve guidelines for their application are described. The principles are not only compatible with existing ID theory bases but can complement and support that theory by offering ways to embody it in engaging learning experiences. Keywords Aesthetics Instructional design Learning experience Principles of instruction
Introduction Recent years have seen a surge of interest in reclaiming the idea that instructional design (ID) is indeed a design discipline and more than just science or just technology (Bolling 2003; Gibbons 2003; Rowland 1999; Wilson 2004). In the spirit of this view of ID as design, this article offers principles intended to contribute to developing the aesthetics of instructional design (Parrish 2005). By broadening their concerns beyond immediate learning outcomes and considering all the qualities of designed experiences, instructional designers can create designs that have deep and lasting impacts for learners. The aesthetic
P. E. Parrish (&) The COMET Program, University Corporation for Atmospheric Research, P.O. Box 3000, Boulder, CO 80307-3000, USA e-mail:
[email protected]
123
512
P. E. Parrish
qualities of learning experiences, in particular, offer a potent dimension through which to expand learning impacts. In offering new ID principles, one must be sensitive to the potentially overwhelming pluralism of influences and competing theories that already exist, which can lead to frustration or to retreat into a comfortably narrow set of guidelines. For this reason, it is imperative, when possible, to show compatibility between aesthetic principles and existing ID theory. But aesthetic principles offer more than just compatibility with existing theory– they complement and can support that theory by offering ways to embody it in engaging learning experiences. The principles described in this article extend our conception of what is entailed in designing an effective learning experience, while also honoring other perspectives. The article first makes a case for the value of considering the aesthetics of learning experiences. Then it offers a set of aesthetic first principles, followed by guidelines for their application. The term ‘‘first principles’’ is used to suggest that the principles are productive for deriving a wide range of guidelines for learning activities and can be applied in any instructional situation. The use of the term is in part an homage to Merrill’s (2002) prescriptive first principles of instruction, which he derived as fundamental to good instruction after comparing a wide set of valued instructional theories with traditional sources. The aesthetic principles offered here are not prescriptive in the sense that every case of good instruction requires demonstration of each of them; nor are they axiomatic and timeless, even if they strive for that status. They necessarily reflect current conceptions of what makes good art and good instruction. Neither is the list offered here in any way comprehensive or representative of the full range of aesthetic first principles that might be found on further investigation.
Considering learning experience Three traditional components of the instructional environment vie for the attention of teachers and instructional designers—subject matter, instructional methodology, and the learner. Instructional designers often broaden this traditional view by including the instructor (or instructional designer) and the instructional context to describe the complete instructional system. However, a more holistic approach would also include the idea of ‘‘learning experience.’’ Learning experience describes the transaction that takes place between individual learners and the instructional environment. In addition to the components listed above, learning experience includes the way that the learner feels about, engages with, responds to, influences, and draws from the instructional situation (see Fig. 1). Learning experience is different for each learner, depending on the connection made to the other components of the situation and depending on what the learner brings to the situation and draws from it for future situations. ‘‘Experience’’ in this sense describes more than a passive event. It is a transaction with the environment in which learning is an outcome (witness the saying, ‘‘experience is the best teacher’’). The word ‘‘experience’’ is rooted in the same Indo-European words as ‘‘experiment’’ and ‘‘peril.’’ Meaningful experiences contain qualities suggested in each of these terms. Viewing learning as experience broadens the concerns of instructional designers because it necessitates consideration of the quality of that experience and not just its goals and mechanics. For example, this viewpoint raises learner engagement in status: only when learners consider the experience worth attending to and reflecting upon will the transaction of experience have its full impact.
123
Aesthetic principles
513
Fig. 1 Components of instructional environments
Learning experiences have many qualities, including cognitive ones of course. But they also have emotional, social, cultural, political, and aesthetic qualities (Wilson 2005). All these come into play in determining the immediate qualities and enduring meaning of an experience. Aesthetic qualities include the rhythms of instructional activities; methods for creating intellectual and emotional tension and revealing unity within content sequences; strategies for providing memorable closure to learning experiences; and the sensory impact of classrooms, computer interfaces, and texts. But these immediate qualities are not attended to simply for their immediate rewards—they are designed to lend the experience lasting resonance. An instrumental view of learning may consider only the immediately measurable outcomes of a learning experience, particularly its impacts on cognition, behavior, or performance. But a more inclusive view, one that values a growing capacity and willingness to engage with and learn from the world, considers the continuity of experiences (Dewey 1916) and is concerned with how the quality of an experience impacts the meaning we attribute to it. A meaningful experience leads us to engage fruitfully not only in the immediate situation but in the future experiences to which it points.
The importance of aesthetic experience The word ‘‘aesthetics’’ is often used narrowly to describe the sensual qualities of an object or designed experience. But from a Pragmatist viewpoint, aesthetics describes a category of experience. Aesthetic experiences are heightened, immersive, and particularly meaningful ones (Dewey 1934/1989). They stand out as complete in and of themselves and as providing an immediately felt impact. Aesthetic experience is most often linked to our engagement with works of art because art is expressly designed to stimulate it. But it can develop when we are engaged in any activity, including experiences as diverse as learning to hit a baseball, creating or viewing a painting, decoding the human genome sequence, enjoying a good mystery novel, or having a meaningful conversation. Each of these experiences is marked by focused intent to resolve an indeterminate situation and becomes aesthetic when we are deeply invested in the effort. Aesthetic experiences are important to us because they demonstrate the expressive power of life (Alexander 1998). They reveal the depth of meaning life can hold and suggest
123
514
P. E. Parrish
how we can use our powers to discover and create that meaning. These rewards are why we seek out aesthetic experiences, why we attach monetary value to them, and why we struggle to achieve them. The opposites of aesthetic experience are boredom; mindless routine; scattered, dispersed activity; or meaningless, imposed labor. Unaesthetic (or, in the extreme, anesthetic) experiences like these are unlikely to deepen our capabilities, show us meaning, or move us to engage with life. In contrast, during an aesthetic experience, we sense (at times subconsciously) an impending consummation through revealed meaning or fruitful outcome. Aesthetic experience is marked by emotionally charged anticipation, deep engagement, and willingness to follow through to completion. Because these are optimal conditions for learning, we want learners to have aesthetic experience in the instructional situations we create.
Sources of aesthetic principles Sources of principles for designing aesthetic learning experiences become apparent when we consider the affinities between making art and designing instruction. Dewey (1934/ 1989) asks us to reject the ‘‘museum’’ conception of art when he tells us that works of art are merely ‘‘refined and intensified forms of experience’’ and not distinct in quality from many everyday experiences. Works of art stimulate growth by challenging us to see the world freshly, to become open and responsive to possibilities in the world around us—a particularly important precondition to learning. Instructional designers are also in the business of creating ‘‘refined and intensified forms of experience,’’ even if we typically avoid talking about their aesthetic qualities (Parrish 2005). While instruction is not art in its narrow sense, the distinction is more accidental than essential when instruction strives to stimulate heightened, reflective experiences. Due to this affinity, ID can enhance its own aesthetic status by drawing useful guidance from what has been learned in the realm of the arts. The aesthetic principles offered in this paper are drawn from multiple sources. The arts provide a rich source of strategies for achieving aesthetic experience, so they are the first source. The principles discussed here draw heavily from Aristotle’s Poetics, probably the most influential historical source of aesthetic principles and one that continues to inform artists and designers to this day (Laurel 1993; Tierno 2002). Secondly, although John Dewey and his Pragmatist approach to aesthetics (Dewey 1934/1989) offer no systematic aesthetic principles, Dewey’s description of aesthetic experience suggests several guiding principles. A third source of principles is research into the aesthetic decisions of instructional designers and teachers made while considering the experience of their learners (Parrish 2004). Finally, the choice of principles is informed by current learning and instructional theory. Most aesthetic principles have parallels in information processing, constructivist, and social learning theories because aesthetic experience, in fact, underlies all efforts to find or create meaning. However, these parallels are rarely explored in any coherent way, nor do instructional designers seek the full potential of aesthetics as a resource for theory and practice. In the following sections each aesthetic principle and guideline is connected to relevant learning and ID theory. Using an aesthetic lens can expand the utility of this theory, allowing it to reach into instructional designs through new avenues. Each principle is discussed only briefly, and all require further research to determine the ways in which they are and are not applied successfully in practice.
123
Aesthetic principles
515
First principles This section offers four aesthetic first principles for creating artful instruction. A final, fifth principle is saved for discussion in a subsequent section of the article. Not coincidently, the four principles discussed here correspond to the common concerns of literary criticism—plot, character, theme, and context (which encompasses such qualities as setting, tone, and frame). Literary criticism is not the only useful source of aesthetic principles for instructional design; but the focus literature and drama place on human activity, human growth, and temporal structure—and the central role of narrative in our creation of meaning (Bruner 1990)—make it an especially rich source. However, plot, character, theme, and setting also have formal parallels in the visual arts and music; in fact, whether a work of art takes the form of painting, sculpture, architecture, drama, dance, film, or music, our experience of it has narrative qualities. This narrative always follows a pattern of inquiry in which we perceive the object or situation and over time, through engagement with it, come to sense its meaning or unity. Overall, plot, character, theme, and setting provide a useful framework for discussing aesthetic learning principles because they correspond to the instructional components discussed previously—methodology, learner, subject matter, and context.
Principle 1: Learning experiences have beginnings, middles, and endings (i.e., plots) Instructional design theory frequently offers principles for instructional sequences (e.g., Gagne´ and Briggs 1979; Merrill 2002; Reigeluth 1999). Among these are many that propose narrative-like sequences that arise from the pattern of problem—information seeking—solution generation—resolution that occurs in inquiry-based approaches to instruction (e.g., Jonassen 1999; Schank 1990). However, there is more we can do in our designs to attend to the unique needs and potentials of the three basic phases of aesthetic experiences—beginning, middle, and end—as articulated by Aristotle in describing drama and poetry (Aristotle, trans. 1984). Learners have different thoughts and feelings when they first become engaged, when the pattern of the instruction becomes evident and accepted (or resisted), and when learning is approaching its culmination. For example, beginnings call for creating tension or mystery and developing trust that the tension can be resolved, middles often call for continued renewal of the initial engagement and reinforcement of the potential for consummation, and endings call for both an emotional intensity that heightens the experience and a chance for reflection that connects everything that has come before into logical and organic unity. If we pay attention to the needs, thoughts, and feelings of learners in each of these phases—and anticipate them in our instructional designs—we have a better chance to create an aesthetic learning experience.
Principle 2: Learners are the protagonists of their own learning experiences In traditional education, the subject matter, or at times the instructor, is the lead character. But from the perspective of learning experience, the protagonist is always the learner. In works of art, we vicariously experience the events along with a protagonist and are led to a similar revelation. But learning experience is never vicarious. Even though learners might be motivated by the desire to understand the struggles and achievements of others, a learner’s primary experience is his or her own struggles and achievements in learning.
123
516
P. E. Parrish
Even within the same instructional situation, learners have different learning experiences depending on how they view their relationship to the situation. Some might take a tragic perspective and see themselves as oppressed protagonists saddled with the tragic flaw of ignorance (or laziness, insufficient intelligence, etc.) and struggling to overcome their inadequacies to succeed in the course. Alternatively, some may see the experience as comedy—as a series of embarrassing episodes in which their ignorance places them in difficult, but reconcilable, situations. Others might see their role as heroic, with the course taking on epic proportions as they confront one difficult labor or obstacle after another to emerge as more admirable people. Whatever the choice of roles, learning is always a perilous undertaking—one in which the learner voluntarily enters a situation that challenges current beliefs and concepts. It might be important to get students to realize the protagonist they have chosen to play and to use those choices to guide instructional decisions that will provide the proper motivation and sense of accomplishment. Instruction might also be used to guide learners to the more productive orientations (i.e., comedic or heroic). Within the literature on personal learning styles and their implications for instructional design, the work of Martinez (2002) is among those that best approximate the concern with learning experience discussed here. The literary analogies offered here can be seen as expanding upon Martinez’ category of the transforming learner—the learner who seeks significant personal change from learning—and as offering guidance for making design decisions that might support learners of that type. Aesthetic designs may even encourage learners of other types to adopt the transforming orientation.
Principle 3: Learning activity, not subject matter, establishes the theme of instruction Like every work of art, every learning experience has an underlying theme. In art, an effective theme is tangible and immediate and cannot be captured fully in a single abstract word like ‘‘love’’ or ‘‘justice.’’ Instead, a theme is more like an ‘‘action-idea’’ (Tierno 2002), an embodiment of the cause-and-effect relationship that arises from the fundamental premise (idea or point) of the story (Egri 1942). For example, the premise to Macbeth is not ‘‘ambition’’ or ‘‘corruption’’ but something more like ‘‘Ruthless ambition leads to corruption and self-destruction.’’ In turn, the action-idea that arises from this premise might be stated as, ‘‘Macbeth, driven by ambition to assume the throne, engages in a sequence of murders that lead to his eventual downfall.’’ In other words, the theme, or action-idea, is not just a statement of the premise but also a summary of how the work embodies that premise. Works of art in which the premise is too directly stated, and in which the embodying action-idea is secondary, do not feel genuine. They feel strained. An instructional theme is often manifested as a generative goal (the learner is to solve a problem, complete a project, perform a series of experiments, etc.). Goal-based scenarios (Schank et al. 1999) and problem-based learning (Dunlap 2005; Savery and Duffy 1996) are instructional design approaches that embody this concept of theme. Both approaches assume that learning happens best when couched in a coherent activity, just as an effective narrative is driven by a coherent action-idea. Subject matter alone is an insufficient basis for instruction. However, subject matter couched in an action-idea creates the potential for aesthetic experience by turning it into tangible activity. Rather than identifying the topic ‘‘anthropology’’ or even the premise that ‘‘Systematic study of culture can discern patterns that allow us to appreciate similarities and differences between cultures’’ as an instructional theme, more useful would be to identify theme with the learning activity, ‘‘After
123
Aesthetic principles
517
engaging in systematic study of several exotic cultures, the learner uses this systematic method as a tool for studying more familiar cultures.’’ In other words, the activity of the course is evident from the start, not merely layered onto the topical agenda. Hollywood producers are infamous for requiring that a proposed film project be summed up in a one- or two-sentence ‘‘pitch.’’ Aristotle supports this approach as well, telling artists that they should be able to frame the work such that even hearing a summary of it elicits a strong emotional response (Aristotle, trans. 1984). Stating the theme of a course doesn’t necessarily stimulate learning, but it should describe the experience that will, thus enticing a learner to take part.
Principle 4: Context contributes to immersion in the instructional situation Context is a catch-all category that describes many components of an instructional situation. Context can be given or created, so consideration of context has a dual nature—the need to accommodate the many given contextual qualities of a situation in an instructional design (Tessmer and Richey 1997) and the possibility to create aspects of the instructional context to support instructional goals. However, whether one accommodates or creates it, context must contribute to the cohesiveness of the learning experience by reinforcing all its components. Because art is also about experience, cohesiveness plays a similarly critical role. The many elements of any artwork of quality—whether color, texture, tone, tempo, site, lighting, mood, or voice—are either purposefully controlled or creatively appropriated by the artist to make the experience immersive. Even if they seem subordinate or accidental to an uncritical eye, these elements are not random. No architect designs a building in a vacuum. Drawings and scale models nearly always include the site, showing its natural and man-made elements and illustrating the impact of a building’s setting on its final effectiveness. To determine impacts on user experience, architectural computer models simulate seasonal changes in lighting and the effects of the building on wind patterns. Similarly, a writer uses the details of setting to evoke mood (the darkness of winter might deepen a sense of isolation); to establish character (the decor in protagonist’s bedroom can reveal character more truthfully than narration); and even to advance the plot (terrain might complicate movement to heighten tension during a critical sequence). The literature of instructional design has shown concern with context as given conditions that must be accommodated (Tessmer and Richey 1997), but additional insight can be gained from exploring ways to create context to enhance learning. Instructional context can include application of a frame to set off a portion of the learning experience as a world in which students assume alternate identities (often those of experts) to enact scenarios that allow the application of learning. Frames can be subtle, such as the shift in language when the instructor refers to learners as practitioners to encourage adoption of professional behaviors (Parrish 2004), or quite elaborate, marking off educational dramas and roleplaying activities (Anderson 2004). Framed scenarios are a form of legitimate peripheral participation (Lave and Wenger 1991) in which learners can practice developing skills in non-threatening situations that approximate those of the real world (e.g., Schank et al. 1999). The success of scenarios in instruction may depend greatly on careful manipulation of context, including establishment of the frame, to create the alternative world and to encourage immersion and genuine participation. Instructional designers might learn strategies from artists for doing so.
123
518
P. E. Parrish
Finally, from the perspective of an ecological theory of knowing, context becomes perhaps the primary consideration in designing instruction (Barab and Roth 2006). From this perspective, learning is stimulated during participation within rich contexts, ones tailored sufficiently to provide all the affordances necessary to facilitate meaningful participation in the instructional context yet open enough to suggest generalities applicable to other contexts (addressing the transfer problem). This challenge is not dissimilar to the one faced by writers of fiction, who must exercise rhetorical control in providing sufficient and consistent details to create immersive fictional worlds that also connect to the worlds inhabited by readers. Guidelines for applying the first principles If the status of ‘‘first principles’’ claimed for the preceding principles is deserved, the list of guidelines offered below could grow much longer. However, this brief initial set provides a basis for further thought and research and indicates the breadth of possible guidelines that might emerge. Principle 1: Learning experiences have beginnings, middles, and endings (i.e., plots) Begin by instilling tension, posing a problem, or pointing out conflicting information To become engaged, a learner has to have a felt need to do so. This need is frequently satisfied by creating a problematic situation, but it doesn’t have to be a problem in the traditional sense. Works of art frequently begin by establishing normalcy—a recognizable and acceptable situation or a harmonious pattern—and then introduce conflict that violates this normalcy (Bruner 2002). The conflict introduces the need for reconciliation and instigates engagement to see the conflict resolved. The conflict in narratives often involves thrusting likeable, recognizable characters into threatening situations. In music conflict involves pitting contrasting keys against one another. In the visual arts, it might be the use of dynamic composition (discomforting diagonals or curiosity-generating imbalance) or the surrealist tactic of placing everyday objects in surprising juxtapositions. To generate tension, instructional situations might begin with conflicting ideas or theories. For example, an instructor might pose or elicit a commonsense mental model and then offer conflicting evidence, in effect ‘‘entrapping’’ the learner and stimulating engagement through cognitive dissonance (Collins and Stevens 1983). Instruction also might be centered on a realistic problem, as is done in problem-based or case-based learning (Kolodner and Guzdial 2000; Savery and Duffy 1996). There are myriad ways to impose conflict in instruction, and any one of them will be better than merely beginning with a description of subject matter. Aristotle describes this aesthetic strategy as setting up the ‘‘complication.’’ Everything that follows is the ‘‘denouement,’’ or the working out (or ‘‘untying’’) of the complication (Aristotle, trans. 1984). The majority of an instructional event should feel like denouement (actively working through the action-idea or theme), but this can happen only with a rich complication to set it in motion. Learning experiences should create anticipation of consummation Successful beginnings also require anticipation, and the anticipated end of the denouement is consummation—the rewarding feeling that the experience hangs together and
123
Aesthetic principles
519
demonstrates unity. In instruction, consummation involves achieving the key objectives and—perhaps more importantly—seeing how they fit together and toward what coherent end they were chosen in the first place. The end should require struggle but it must also be achievable. The end should be pointed to or hinted from the start, but not just handed over to the learner. Maintaining anticipation throughout the denouement requires establishing trust, which can be achieved by providing interim rewards of consummation for smallscale tensions. Reigeluth (1999) proposes the use of an elaboration structure to provide a holistic picture of the instructional content from the start, potential for interim learning successes within each elaboration, and a constant reminder of the potential for consummation to be achieved through the entire instructional sequence. In lesser works of art, where tensions are frequently resolved without moving the plot forward (e.g., a cat is responsible for the eerie noise, a dangerous situation turns out to be a dream), we quickly lose trust and disengage. Or perhaps we decide to play along for the thrills, but without deep engagement. Similarly, interim rewards in instruction must also be meaningful, not forced or extrinsic, and contribute to the whole of the course or module by pointing to the potential consummation.
Create sustained suspense by enhancing the complication This guideline suggests an alternative approach to the problem of cognitive load (Morrison and Anglin 2005; van Merrie¨nboer and Ayres 2005). Early research in the application of cognitive-load theory proposed reducing instructional complexity by limiting specificity of goals, providing worked examples rather than problems, and avoiding split attention (Sweller and Chandler 1991). While these cognitive-load principles are not necessarily unaesthetic, they can be counter to building tension and anticipation. Engagement is built on more than a sustained feeling of achievement and maintained focus at the expense of challenge. It requires continual struggle and expectation. The middle or ‘‘second act’’ of dramatic works is often considered the most difficult (Hunter 1993). In the second act the deeper complexity of the plot is revealed, but the luxury of novelty has worn off. Complicating events must be new, but they can’t violate the setting and character already established. Otherwise, trust is in danger. The middle movements in music and films are often quiet and thoughtful, revealing depth and providing a respite before a more boisterous ending. In instructional situations, the second act is when the work of teaching and learning can begin to feel like work. Student engagement needs to be reinforced continually to avoid having the learning situation become boring and routine. Carefully introducing new tensions, surprises, and increasing complication is one way to achieve engagement. This approach to engagement is used in the AMIGO3 project (The PT3 Group at Vanderbilt 2003), which applies a course structure composed entirely of a series of challenges—inquiry-based modules that replace the content presentation-centered structures of traditional instructional approaches.
Pattern, routine, or an established motif can sustain engagement Motif is a critical component of nearly every work of art. In music and narrative arts, repetition reminds us that the piece is of a whole; motif provides a comfortable and familiar stop along the journey. Motif also provides a yardstick to reveal how things are changing or how they are connected: when a motif recurs in different contexts, we are
123
520
P. E. Parrish
being asked to compare those contexts. Pattern performs a similar function, providing a ground on which new forms can stand out but at the same time preventing chaos. Without pattern, novelty would lose its novelty; chaos would dissolve the integrity of the experience. Middle phases of instruction might require a degree of pattern or routine to maintain a level of comfort to mitigate the stress of necessary work—even if that pattern involves a series of tension-generating problem cycles. This approach is used in the AMIGO3 project (The PT3 Group at Vanderbilt 2003), in which sequences of repeated challenges introduce pattern without sacrificing tension. Bringing in motifs from early in the instruction in the form of repeated examples, ideas, or theories also provides an anchor for new learning to take place and helps to show how the instruction fits together. The elaboration theory of instruction (Reigeluth 1999), in which an instructional epitome functions as a central motif that unifies the individual ‘‘episodes’’ of instruction, applies this tactic. For example, in an anthropology course an epitome might be a definition of ‘‘culture’’ agreed upon by the class in an opening discussion, and returned to repeatedly as the concept of culture is expanded. Elaboration theory uses a zoom-lens analogy to recommend continued reference to higher level elaborations or the epitome (‘‘zooming out’’) to supply an anchor for new learning and to instill a holistic understanding of the instructional content.
Endings should integrate everything that has occurred up to that point We want an ending to be more than a stopping point; we want it to be the culmination and consummation of all activity that led to it (Dewey 1934/1989). Consummation is what makes an experience meaningful and not merely a sequence of disconnected events. Without consummation, the experience is not aesthetic. The ending of a narrative needs to tie up loose ends, not introduce new ones—unless of course the presence of loose ends drives the theme of the work and constitutes the appropriate culmination. The ending needs to justify the effort it takes to engage from start to finish, and it does this by unifying the work. The ending of an instructional event shouldn’t consist simply of completing the last section or mastering the last objective; it should include activity that subsumes everything learned to that point. It should also provide a backward glance that brings the entire learning experience into focus. The ending should also be an exhilarating phase, like the final movement of a symphony. It might occur in a fluster of activity—completing a final project or paper or preparing for a culminating exam. However it occurs, it should mark the experience with heightened emotion that enhances engagement and encourages follow-on reflection, even if deep involvement makes concurrent reflection unlikely (Reed et al. 2002). Dunlap (2005) discusses research on the impact of an immersive, problem-based capstone course as the culmination to student experience within a degree program in software development. Students saw their capstone projects not only as difficult challenges but also as one of the most fulfilling and rich learning experiences in their program. This research demonstrates the benefit of considering aesthetic experience not only at the course and module level but also at the curriculum level.
123
Aesthetic principles
521
Principle 2: Learners are the protagonists of their own learning experience Accept that learners, as protagonists, are fully human Good dramatic characters are realistic (Aristotle, trans. 1984). They have flaws, goals, desires, basic needs, senses, and an individual brand of rational thought. If they didn’t, we wouldn’t relate to them strongly; their drama would hold little meaning for us. Because learners are the protagonists in their learning experiences, they should be allowed to express their individuality without it seeming to detract from a predetermined plan of action. By definition, learning is a form of change; but it always has the current self as starting point. If learners can’t begin a learning experience by being themselves, the experience is unlikely to be genuine or aesthetic. Many researchers and theorists have pointed to the value of recognizing varying learning styles, motivations, or ‘‘intelligences’’ and allowing individual learners to use their styles and motivations to achieve their best (e.g., Gardner 1999; Hiemstra 1997; Martinez 2002). Furthermore, learners might not change beliefs without first being reminded of their current concepts and beliefs and being shown their potential inadequacy in new situations (Collins and Stevens 1983; Jonassen 1999; Schank et al. 1999). Aristotle tells us that plot, and not character, is central to drama. He reminds us that the collected events in the life of a single protagonist are insufficient material for good drama if those events don’t themselves form a coherent narrative (Aristotle, trans. 1984). However, while plot is primary, plot must arise from character and not merely be imposed on characters. By extension, in instructional settings the realities of learners should also influence what is taught during instruction, even though direction is always provided by an instructor or designer to ensure coherence. Learner-centered approaches that include opportunities for establishing personal learning goals, choosing approaches and pacing for learning activities, and sharing personal experiences are part of the solution to supporting aesthetic learning experiences, just as they are for supporting knowledge construction (Jonassen 1999).
Allow dialogue to reveal character Inexperienced fiction writers generally exhibit the weakness of using excessive description rather than letting dialogue and action reveal character (Ray 1994). Similarly, if learnercentered instruction and the need for learners to reveal themselves are valued, dialogue can be a significant instructional tool. Most constructivist approaches call for a high degree of conversation in learning, not only to force learners to reflect and articulate their reasoning (Jonassen 1999) but also to encourage collaborative knowledge construction (Bielaczyc and Collins 1999; Nelson 1999). Just as dialogue is central to revealing psychological conflict in narratives, dialogue is important in revealing learners’ beliefs, both to themselves and to others. When these articulated beliefs trigger epistemological conflicts, either internally or among fellow learners and the instructor, learning opportunities arise.
Foster a change or growth in sense of identity; make learning a rite of passage Like good instruction, successful art stimulates a change that leads to growth. It depicts the change in a protagonist or encourages a viewer’s own change of perception, belief, or
123
522
P. E. Parrish
emotional disposition. To make learning a deeply felt experience, we can stimulate a learner’s identification as protagonist and encourage him or her to view learning as change or growth in identity. To a degree, this encouragement can be achieved through the language used in talking with learners—particularly through changes in language over the course of the instruction as learners become less like novices and more like ‘‘practitioners’’ or ‘‘cognoscenti’’ (Parrish 2004). Teachers and designers can include discussion of what it means to be knowledgeable and what can be done as a consequence of becoming knowledgeable, demonstrating and providing practice in exercising the ‘‘habits of mind’’ that distinguish a community of practice (Lave and Wenger 1991). In addition, the ending phase of instruction can include ‘‘rite of passage’’ activities—including awards, shifting roles (for example, learner as teacher while making a final class presentation), or a celebration of graduation. Capstone courses involving actual or realistic practitioner projects or demonstrating academic growth through original inquiry are a way of eliciting and ‘‘celebrating’’ the change in identity that is often a desired outcome of a curriculum of study (Dunlap 2005).
Principle 3: Learning activity, not subject matter, establishes the theme of instruction Theme and plot arise from subject matter but should be more than subject matter Subject matter should be the arbiter for deciding what learning activities are possible and useful. Aesthetic qualities should not be used simply to ‘‘spruce up’’ instruction, nor should instructional theories be allowed to smother content with methodology. Sources of aesthetic tension and consummation, and sources of instructional methods in general, should arise from problems and issues emerging from the subject matter and not be imposed arbitrarily. Just as the theme of a narrative is embedded in a tangible complication, problems at the center of inquiry-learning approaches require authenticity. If they are not directly related to everyday concerns, professional practice, or acknowledged domain issues, learning problems will insufficiently engage learners (Lave and Wenger 1991). In the arts, even when fictional narratives include fantastical settings and action, they are grounded in authentic human challenges, emotions, and values.
The theme should be believable and connect to experience Just as plot, theme, and character should align in a narrative, the alignment or unity required between subject matter and learning activity (theme) and methodology (plot) must extend to the learner (character). Subject matter should not require an excessive leap of faith. The subject matter might be well-trod ground for instructors, but it is typically quite foreign to learners. Subject matter represents the culmination of a history of research within a domain of knowledge, and it can’t simply be handed to learners for their consumption. If learning arises from experience, learners need to engage in experiences within a domain of knowledge like the researchers, theorists, and practitioners who created it (Dewey 1916). Simply starting with subject matter is not enough. The premise of a course should be something students can currently understand. The theme should describe how they can get
123
Aesthetic principles
523
from where they are, through activities, to a higher level of knowledge and ability to use the subject matter, not simply to recall it. But how learners achieve this end must also be related to intentions that they themselves possess (Jonassen and Land 2000).
Principle 4: Context contributes to immersion in the instructional situation Allow context to support theme and character The importance of context or setting is recognized by all writers of fiction. Dramatists sometimes refer to context as ‘‘stage setup,’’ which includes elements such as time, place, lighting, season, and props (Ray 1994). The cliche´d setting of a ‘‘dark and stormy night’’ used in melodrama demonstrates a lack of originality, but it became cliche´ because it establishes an appropriate emotional context for the drama about to unfold. Setting often serves more practical purposes as well, as when props provide the means for characters to carry out critical actions or demonstrate important psychological traits. Most teachers recognize the importance of instructional contexts, and they will often fill their classrooms with items that stimulate thought about subject matter and create immersion in a world that supports activities for learning. Images, posters, manipulatives, books, magazines, and tools can be prominent components of a classroom that reveals the world of a discipline and helps students develop a deeper relationship with it. Computer interfaces and printed materials can use thematic motifs to support immersion as well. Seating arrangements and communication tools also provide social context and promote desired ways of thinking about the learning situation. Schedules, lengths of learning episodes, and times of day for meetings also color the learning experience. Additionally, allowing learners to collaborate in building and adding items to the context enhances their ownership and allows them to express their characters. Tessmer and Richey (1997) outline an even broader set of contextual factors that can support or inhibit learning according to how they are accommodated or controlled in creating a cohesive learning environment. In addition to the qualities of the immediate environment, these factors include learner perceptions about the instructional situation and cultural or organizational factors such as incentives and supports.
Honor setting in instruction A work of art must acknowledge and honor its setting or risk irrelevance. An architect is extremely careful in adapting any newly designed structure to fit within its given setting. He or she knows that failing to do so can thwart the intended aesthetic (and practical) experience, while doing so acknowledges the larger experience of which the new structure will be only one part. A writer honors the setting of a narrative by providing rich details to readers to help create an authentic and, therefore, inhabitable context. For landscape painters, setting itself becomes subject matter, not just context. Even though it is important to frame the instructional experience as unique, instructors and designers should also honor setting or ‘‘place,’’ i.e., the environment beyond the immediate instructional context. Learners are intricately connected to their natural, social, and cultural contexts in ways that make ‘‘place’’ a central component of their identity and belief systems. Integration with place is a critical component in their ability to flourish as human beings (Gruenewald 2003). Place can become an important factor in instruction
123
524
P. E. Parrish
when activities are derived from and connected to it. Problems can be centered on placebased concerns; learning activities can include having students go into the local natural or social environment to engage in research and application projects; and themes, examples, and information resources can be drawn from the local setting. Engaging with the local setting allows learners to experience the complexity of environments in a way that can’t happen when reading or discussing foreign or remote environments. A strong connection to place can make learning experiences rich, multi-layered, and potentially aesthetic because they are immediate.
The instructor as author and character The instructor or instructional designer plays a complex set of roles in an instructional situation. When orchestrating the content and methodology, the designer is similar to the author of a work of art. But if the learning experience is to be fully aesthetic, the learner should share responsibility for authoring the experience and the instructor’s role must take on other dimensions. This leads to a final first principle, which is explored in this section.
Principle 5: Instructors and instructional designers are authors, supporting characters, and model protagonists An instructor, and even an instructional designer, does much more than orchestrate the other components of the learning environment. He or she is an active contributor, just as much as any other component. The instructor or designer is also a key character in the experience. While not typically the protagonist, the instructor sometimes acts in a role similar to that of the Greek chorus, commenting on the dramatic developments from a privileged standpoint. At other times the instructor functions as a companion character who is confidant to the protagonist and who might also act as provocateur or mirror, as Sam does during Frodo’s quest in The Lord of the Rings trilogy (Tolkien 1955). The instructor can also play the role of wizened guide—one who knows the perils that lurk down each learning path and, while unable to prevent the learner from having to take that path, can provide tools and magical objects to help along the way (Campbell 1968). But instructors and designers also have important roles as experienced learners, or model protagonists. Instructors should reveal their own personal experiences in finding approaches to the subject matter. They should share what it is that motivates their own practice or that led them to their chosen field of knowledge. They should share what perplexes them still, what frustrates them and angers them about the field. They should share regrets. Instructional designers should mine for these motivations, frustrations, and regrets from their subject matter experts and not be lulled into recounting only summarized expert knowledge. They should also be highly conscious of their own difficulties in engaging the subject matter and use this consciousness in their design decisions. Instructors and designers must bring their imaginations and empathy to the experience as well, empathizing with learners to understand how the experience is likely perceived from their point of view. For instructional designers, who are typically removed from the learning experience, this use of imagination is particularly critical (Parrish 2006). Finally, instructors and designers must to a degree be in love with their subject matter and the process of learning it and be willing to reveal their feelings about it. If they aren’t themselves excited about what they are teaching and don’t express that excitement to their
123
Aesthetic principles
525
learners, how can learners be expected to become fully engaged? An audience can tell when an artist is holding back and not baring her soul in the work of art. We come to expect that in great works of art the artist will reveal truths that are drawn deeply from her own life experiences. Learners should expect the same. Conclusion One purpose of this article has been to demonstrate that aesthetic considerations in teaching and instructional design include much more than providing an attractive frame or surface to instructional events. On the contrary, aesthetic principles can guide instructional design in all of its many levels and layers (Gibbons 2003). In fact, the principles have as much to say about the what as the how of instruction. They show strong connections to valued instructional theories derived from traditional sources, such as cognitive psychology, situated and constructivist learning theories, and even behaviorism. These relationships, summarized in Table 1, should not be unexpected, given that both aesthetic experience and instruction are about constructing meaning. Table 1 Connecting aesthetic principles to learning and ID theory Principle
Related learning and ID theories and models
Principle 1: Learning experiences have beginnings, middles, and endings
Inquiry learning Problem-based learning Problem-centered learning Project-based learning Goal-based scenarios Elaboration theory
Principle 2: Learners are the protagonists of their own learning experiences
Constructivist learning Learning styles Instructional role-playing Dialogical learning Collaborative learning
Principle 3: Learning activity, not subject matter, establishes the theme of instruction
Constructivist learning Situated learning Communities of practice Project-based learning Activity theory
Principle 4: Context contributes to immersion in the instructional situation
Context analysis Ecological psychology Learning environments Instructional role-plays Scenario-based learning Place-centered learning Legitimate peripheral participation
Principle 5: Instructors and instructional designers are authors, supporting characters, and model protagonists
Constructivist learning Cognitive apprenticeship Learning-as-journey metaphors
123
526
P. E. Parrish
Aesthetic experience describes a particularly heightened form of engagement with the world, a form of inquiry that does not limit itself to scientific or technological constraints but instead takes a holistic account of the world and ourselves. Like all forms of inquiry, it is about creating meaning from experience that can improve or expand our approaches to future experience. This quality suggests that aesthetic experience is bound up in any significant, transformative learning experience and is also a potential outcome of less ambitious learning goals. Further exploration of aesthetic principles, including further investigation into how they are exercised within the arts and instruction in parallel ways, can broaden our understanding of how people learn and how instructors can guide their learning. Aesthetic approaches to instructional design do not make the difficult problems of instruction any simpler; but they can help us embrace those problems in all their richness rather than encouraging us to oversimplify and, perhaps, misjudge them. Acknowledgments The author would like to thank Dr. Brent Wilson, the IDEAL Research Lab at the University of Colorado at Denver and Health Sciences Center, and the editors and reviewers of ETR&D for their many constructive criticisms and for making the writing of this article a truly aesthetic experience.
References Alexander, T. M. (1998). The art of life: Dewey’s aesthetics. In L. A. Hickman (Eds.), Reading Dewey: Interpretations for a postmodern generation (pp. 1–22). Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Anderson, C. (2004). Learning in ‘‘as-if’’ worlds: Cognition in drama in education. Theory Into Practice, 43(4), 281–286. Aristotle (trans. 1984). Poetics. In J. Barnes (Ed.), The complete works of Aristotle (Vol. Two, pp. 2316– 2340). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Barab, S. A., & Roth, W.-M. (2006). Curriculum-based ecosystems: Supporting knowing from an ecological perspective. Educational Researcher, 35(5), 3–13. Bielaczyc, K., & Collins, A. (1999). Learning communities in classrooms: A reconceptualization of educational practice. In C. M. Reigeluth (Ed.), Instructional-design theories and models: A new paradigm of instructional theory (pp. 269–292). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Bolling, E. (2003). Design cultures. Retrieved January 28, 2004, from the World Wide Web: http://www.indiana.edu/%7Eidt/shortpapers/documents/design_cultures.html. Bruner, J. (1990). Acts of meaning. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Bruner, J. (2002). Making stories: Law, literature, and life. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux. Campbell, J. (1968). The hero with a thousand faces (2nd ed.). Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Collins, A., & Stevens, A. L. (1983). A cognitive theory of inquiry teaching. In C. M. Reigeluth (Ed.), Instructional-design theories and models: An overview of their current status (pp. 247–278). Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Dewey, J. (1916). Democracy and education. New York: The Free Press. Dewey, J. (1934/1989). Art as experience (Vol. 10). Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. Dunlap, J. C. (2005). Problem-based learning and self-efficacy: How a capstone course prepares students for a profession. Educational Technology Research & Development, 53(1), 65–85. Egri, L. (1942). The art of dramatic writing: Its basis in the creative interpretation of human motives. New York: Touchstone. Gagne´, R. M., & Briggs, L. J. (1979). Principles of instructional design (2nd ed.). New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston. Gardner, H. (1999). Intelligence reframed. New York: Basic Books. Gibbons, A. S. (2003). What and how do designers design? TechTrends, 47(5), 22–25. Gruenewald, D. A. (2003). Foundations of place: A multidisciplinary framework for place-conscious education. American Educational Research Journal, 40(3), 619–654. Hiemstra, R. (1997). Applying the individualizing instruction model with adult learners. In C. R. Dills, & A. J. Romiszowski (Eds.), Instructional development paradigms (pp. 555–570). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Educational Technology Publications. Hunter, L. (1993). Lew Hunter’s screenwriting 434. New York: Perigee Books.
123
Aesthetic principles
527
Jonassen, D. H. (1999). Designing constructivist learning environments. In C. M. Reigeluth (Ed.), Instructional-design theories and models: A new paradigm of instructional theory (Vol. II, pp. 215– 239). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Jonassen, D. H., & Land, S. M. (2000). Preface. In D. H. Jonassen, & S. M. Land (Eds.), Theoretical foundations of learning environments (pp. iii–ix). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Kolodner, J. L., & Guzdial, M. (2000). Theory and practice of case-based learning aids. In D. H. Jonassen, & S. M. Land (Eds.), Theoretical foundations of learning environments (pp. 215–242). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Laurel, B. (1993). Computers as theatre. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley. Lave, J., & Wenger, E. C. (1991). Situated learning: Legitimate peripheral participation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Martinez, M. (2002). Designing learning objects to personalize learning. In D. A. Wiley (Ed.), The instructional use of learning objects (pp. 151–171). Bloomington, IN: AECT. Merrill, M. D. (2002). First principles of instruction. Educational Technology Research & Development, 50(3), 43–59. Morrison, G. R., & Anglin, G. J. (2005). Reseach on cognitive load theory: Application to e-learning. Educational Technology Research & Development, 53(3), 94–104. Nelson, L. M. (1999). Collaborative problem solving. In C. M. Reigeluth (Ed.), Instructional-design theories and models: A new paradigm of instructional theory (pp. 241–267). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Parrish, P. E. (2004). Investigating the aesthetic decisions of teachers and instructional designers. Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Educational Research Association, San Diego, CA. Available online at http://www.comet.ucar.edu/*pparrish/. Parrish, P. E. (2005). Embracing the aesthetics of instructional design. Educational Technology, 45(2), 16– 25. Parrish, P. E. (2006). Design as storytelling. TechTrends, 50(4), 72–82. Ray, R. J. (1994). The weekend novelist. New York: Dell Publishing. Reed, J. H., Shallert, D. L., & Deithloff, L. F. (2002). Investigating the interface between self-regulation and involvement process. Educational Psychologist, 37(1), 53–57. Reigeluth, C. M. (1999). The elaboration theory: Guidance for scope and sequence decisions. In C. M. Reigeluth (Ed.), Instructional-design theories and models: A new paradigm of instructional theory (Vol. II, pp. 425–453). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Rowland, G. (1999). A tripartite seed. Creskill, NJ: Hampton Press. Savery, J. R., & Duffy, T. M. (1996). Problem based learning: An instructional model and its constructivist framework. In B. G. Wilson (Ed.), Constructivist learning environments (pp. 135–148). Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Educational Technology Publications. Schank, R. (1990). Tell me a story: A new look at real and artificial memory. New York: Charles Scribner & Sons. Schank, R. C., Berman, T. R., & Macpherson, K. A. (1999). Learning by doing. In C. M. Reigeluth (Eds.), Instructional-design theories and models: A new paradigm of instructional theory (Vol. II, pp. 161–181). Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates. Sweller, J., & Chandler, P. (1991). Evidence for cognitive load theory. Cognition and Instruction, 8(4), 351– 362. Tessmer, M., & Richey, R. C. (1997). The role of context in learning and instructional design. Educational Technology Research & Development, 45(2), 85–115. The PT3 Group at Vanderbilt. (2003). Three amigos: Using ‘‘anchored modular inquiry’’ to help prepare future teachers. Educational Technology Research & Development, 51(1), 105–123. Tierno, M. (2002). Aristotle’s poetics for screenwriters. New York: Hyperion. Tolkien, J. R. R. (1955). The fellowship of the ring. New York: Ballatine Books. van Merrie¨nboer, J. J. G., & Ayres, P. (2005). Research on cognitive load theory and its design implications for e-learning: Introduction to the special issue. Educational Technology Research & Development, 53(3), 5–13. Wilson, B. G. (2004). Foundations for instructional design: Reclaiming the conversation. In J. M. Spector, D. A. Wiley, C. Ohrazda, & A. Van Schaack (Eds.), Innovations in instructional technology: Essays in honor of M. David Merrill (pp. 237–252). Mahwah, NJ: Erlbaum. Wilson, B. G. (2005). Broadening our foundation for instructional design: Four pillars of practice. Educational Technology, 45(2), 10–16.
123
528
P. E. Parrish
Patrick Parrish is Manager of Instructional Design and Production with The COMET1 Program (http://www.meted.ucar.edu), providing design and development oversight for the creation of education and training materials in meteorology and other geosciences. Patrick holds an M.A. in Instructional Technology and is currently completing doctoral studies in Educational Leadership and Innovation at the University of Colorado at Denver. His interests include ID theory, design theory, art and aesthetics, and how these interrelate.
123
