The St. Michael School in Clayton has evolved from the educational philosophy of Reggio Emilia, an Italian city that has attracted the attention of educators worldwide. Its approach provides the child with rich, intellectual, and creatively stimulating experiences, then guides the child to explore, expand, extract, and express understanding from the experience. For more information, visit their website.

Camran, Curatorial Assistant, the Pulitzer — “Critics are always talking about this and that influence on Matisse’s work. Well, the influence on Matisse when he painted this work [”Portrait of Marguerite,” 1907] was his children, who had just started to draw. Their naive drawings fascinated him and completely changed his style. Nobody realizes this, and yet it’s one of the keys to Matisse.” (Picasso to John Richardson, 1962)

Last week, at the Bruno David Gallery, it was the students of St. Michael School who taught the lessons. Their gallery-spanning watercolors allowed visitors to develop an informed idea of what youthful drawing is all about. To me, it seemed to be about the artist stimulating his or her own imagination. Whether the students’ efforts were playful or willful, their works were always sites of discovery. The pictures invented stories, revisited experiences, or were themselves the residue of some experiment.

Of course, it’s difficult not to see children’s drawings through the lens of modern art. Because of artists like Picasso and pictures like “Portrait of Marguerite,” mentioned above, naiveté often resembles sophistication.

Yet one of the things that struck me about the SMS watercolors was that they didn’t look half as genuinely naive as Picasso and Matisse had led me to expect (i.e. the modern masters created children’s drawings that look more childish than the real thing!). Looking closely, you could tell that many of the children had assimilated certain models: there was a dog the same breed as Snoopy, birds the same breed as Toucan Sam. And one picture could have been titled “Self-portrait in the Manner of Whoever Draws Dora the Explorer”! So interesting. The children had devoured aspects of art by adults–some of which is (ironically) based on the art of children–to make their own statments. Looking at their watercolors, at times, it was like watching someone learn to talk–fluently.

Camran, Curatorial Assistant, the Pulitzer – Tuesday night the Pulitzer and the Bruno David Gallery hosted an open house to celebrate the results of the Pulitzer’s educational partnerships with the St. Michael School and Shaw Elementary. It was a great success and, in my opinion, a lot of fun. The Bruno David Gallery, which presented student artwork inspired by field trips to the Pulitzer, is right across the street from the Pulitzer, so you could see the students’ art and their artistic inspirations all together. If you were a student, a teacher, a parent, or in any way involved with the realization of the event, it was hard not to feel a sense of pride as you walked between the two buildings. I’ll write more about the event–especially the students’ fascinating artwork– next week. (Having pushed pins into 100+ watercolors, I got a very good look at each individual work!) For now: pictures!

Chuck Schwall, studio teacher –After our our trips to visit Serra’s Joe at the Pulitzer, the first grade students returned to school with many new ideas, associations, and wonderings about spirals. As the children discussed the topic of spirals further, they made many new connections:

“A spiral is something that makes you dizzy.”

“It’s something that goes around and around and doesn’t stop for a long time.”

“It is really, really, round, and it’s not going to stop for long time…40 days or 40 million years!”

“It is a curvy, wiggly and swirly shape!”

Our investigations continued in the art studio with the use of materials. During the course of several weeks, the children were asked to use various materials,such as clay or watercolors, to represent their ideas about spirals. The results were surprising and delightful. At times their works referenced our trips to Serra’s Joe directly, while at others they explored the conception of a spiral for its own sake.

O. F., fifth grade student — When I walked into Joe at the Pulitzer. I thought at first, big, curvy, and long. Then Mr. Holohan told me to think about what homage was being expressed in relationship to the sculpture, Joe. First, BIG, I knew it was to pay homage to Joe Pulitzer so I thought he mast be very famous or just well liked because he must be a BIG man in other’s life. Then I thought of CURVY because of the spiral. I always have ups and downs when painting and drawing maybe the curvy means having ups and downs throughout his life and the spiral represents everlasting in Joe Pulitzer’s life.

H.H., sixth grade student — My first impressions were that Joe looks very slanted from the outside and I was wondering if it would look the same on the inside. The sculpture made me think about a spiral and how it just keeps on going forever. Did Richard Serra make this in homage to Joe Pulitzer because like the spiral he would influence people forever?

Camran, Curatorial Assistant, the Pulitzer — Fifth and sixth grade visited for the first time this morning. They walked through in groups of five, and if the other groups of five were anything like mine, they tackled a lot of interesting questions. My group spent a lot of time comparing Chuck Close’s Keith with Andy Warhol’s Most Wanted Man. Once everyone got close enough to see that Keith was indeed a painting, the issue was: “So one painting took like a year and the other took like ten minutes?” After that the question was just, well how did he paint Keith? My favorite theory: “left-to-right because Keith’s nose is pressed to the right–looks like the artist pressed it while he was working.”

We also heard some interesting things downstairs, especially about Rosso’s Ecce Puer: “Looks frozen…or maybe burned;” “Looks like the artist didn’t care about the back of it at all;” and, repeatedly, “He [the model] looks afraid.” Made me think of Harry Cooper and Sharon Hecker’s excellent exhibition at the Saint Louis Art Museum a few years ago, Medardo Rosso: Second Impressions. How much Rosso thought about the surfaces of his casts and the backs of his sculptures were major issues. Cooper and Hecker also pondered why Rosso made the unusual decision to photograph Ecce Puer with a bunch of ominous knife-like instruments. Our hypothesis: Maybe because he was trying to highlight the fear? If that’s right, let it be known: these students must be cited in a footnote. You gotta give credit where credit’s due!

Camran, Curatorial Assistant, the Pulitzer – This afternoon we welcomed a handful of first-graders to the Pulitzer for a second time. They picked a beautiful afternoon to come–there was a strong beam of light making its way around Ellsworth Kelly’s Blue Black the whole time–and with a little coaxing from Chuck and me they had a great conversation in front of George Segal’s Walking Man. They talked about where he was standing (outside an elevator?), what it’s like to ride an elevator (mostly either fun or sickening), and, based on his posture, what the man must be thinking. And the most surprising thing? Check out our main blog to find out.

Afterwards we set aside some time for them to draw in the galleries. Some of them tried to draw what was around them: Roni Horn’s Asphere, Bruce Nauman’s Henry Moore Bound to Fail, Doris Salcedo’s Atrabiliarios. Others drew the watercourt from memory. They also had another chance to walk through Joe (by popular demand). Inside, in the sand, the drawing continued. Seemed like a fitting end to the day: I’m sure Serra worked out the details of Joe in a sandbox of his own, in his studio in New York.

Chuck Schwall, studio teacher – When we returned to St. Michael School, the first grade students discussed our experience at the Pulitzer. Richards Serra’s Joe was such an exciting and experiential event for them. I asked the children what they liked about it, and what it made them think about. Here are some of their responses:

“I liked the colors on it. I liked when the walls went in and out (as we were walking through it). It felt like it was going to fall on us.”

“It reminded me of a watch. It could wrap around your wrist. The middle is the clock part. If you opened Joe up, you could put it on your wrist.”

“It reminded me of a big face…‘cause it’s round and it has a wide open mouth!”

“It looks like a doughnut.”

“It looks like a cinnamon bun. Or maybe cotton candy, it could spin like cotton candy.”

“It sort of felt like it was going to topple over. When you’re inside, all you see is the opening at the top. It’s like a big spiral. The door is hidden. It’s only ‘up’ which is open.”

“It’s like the spiral is going to fall down, and it is like Joe is looking at the Pulitzer (building).”

“It reminds me of an eye, or a face.”

“It reminds me of an ear.”

“It’s like a whole face, the spiral is the nose, and the windows (on the Pulitzer building) are the eyes.”

Jennifer C. Gaby, parent – I took a break from my job at the Contemporary Art Museum to walk next door to the Pulitzer and join Mr. Schwall, Mrs. Wozniak, Sean, and the first-grade class in their search for portraits.

I have to say, I was a little anxious yesterday considering my dear one was rambunctious as a rhinoceros (despite the fact that he is well-versed in appropriate gallery behavior!). I don’t think very many young children often visit the Pulitzer - the space is meditative and seems more prone to a contemplative adult - and the gallery attendants, charged with the safekeeping of the art work, seemed to share my nervousness when they saw what appeared to be a normal first grade class - full of energy and mischief.

The atmosphere changed very quickly. The children carefully observed the rules of the space and starting asking questions - commenting on each another’s inquiries, considering what the figures might be thinking and trying to guess what materials the artists had used. They debated how the pieces were constructed and wondered why an artist chose to make a sculptural piece in the shape of a man walking. The gallery attendants quickly warmed to this inquisitive, thoughtful group of youngsters and started engaging them in conversation about the art work.

Those 6 and 7 year-olds are engaged in art - engaged in a way you rarely even see with adults (as a parent, you become amazed quite often). And those first graders are an extremely funny bunch of kids. The highlight of the trip was the unanimous agreement that the large-scale Chuck Close painting closely resembles our own Chuck - the studio teacher. I’m sure he appreciated that and is now considering changing his haircut!