“Don’t for heaven’s sake be afraid of talking nonsense!
But you must pay attention to your nonsense.”
Ludwig Wittgenstein, quoted in “Teaching to Learn”, Joseph Kosuth, 1991,

Pedagogic research

Parallel School of Art

Parallel School of Art is a virtual and international school where people who want to self-educate themselves can share what they are doing and thinking, as well as their interests and projects. → →

The Public School

The  Public School is a school with no curriculum. It is not accredited, it does not give out degrees, and it has no affiliation with the public school system. It is a framework that supports autodidactic activities, operating under the assumption that everything is in everything.

Hidden Curriculum

Hidden Curriculum looks at the unrecognized and unintended knowledge, values and beliefs that are part of the learning process in schools. It focuses on actions that go beyond existing norms and shows creative and productive ways of navigating through everyday life in school…

Invisible University

See also: L.A.W.u.N* Project #19, David Greene & Samantha Hardingham, Bedford Press, 2008
*Locally Available World unseen Network
“Architect, educator and founder member of Archigram, David Greene has been hugely influential for generations of architects and designers through his iconic projects from the 1960s, such as Living Pod and LogPlug, and his ongoing inquisitive, oppositional approach to teaching. The exhibition is representative of Greene’s ‘exploratory laboratory’ teaching studios and is conceived as part of an evolving workshop…”

Potteries Thinkbelt School:
In 1964, [Cedric] Price critiqued the traditional university system in his Potteries Think Belt project. Radically rethinking the basic concept of a university, his proposal provided a mobile learning resource for 20,000 students utilising the infrastructure of a declining industrial zone. Largely in response to the rash of university campuses being built during the 1960s, Price’s proposal transformed the derelict Staffordshire potteries into a realm of higher education, mainly on railway tracks, creating a widespread community of learning while also promoting economic growth. His proposal took advantage of local unemployment, a stagnant local housing programme, a redundant rail network, vast areas of unused, unstable land, consisting mainly of old coal-working and clay pits, and a national need for scientists and engineers. It offered a solution to the need for educational facilities whilst also offering to do something about the economic and social collapse of the Potteries. Further education and re-education must be viewed as a major industrial undertaking and not as a service run by gentlemen for the few, opined Price. 
— From
In 1971, he also founded Polyark – Architectural Schools Network.
See also Paul Elliman, “A school is a building with a school in it”, in Casco Issues XII: Generous Structures, September 2011.

London Anti-University, 1968-69, 49 Rivington Street, East-London

“Shortlived and intense experiment into self-organised education and communal living.”
(see Jakob Jakobsen, The Antiuniversity of London an Introdution to Deinstitutionalisation: )

Scratch Orchestra

“The Scratch Orchestra grew out of a series of public classes in experimental music that Cornelius Cardew and other composers had been running in London in the late 1960s. These began at the Anti-University on Rivington Street continuing at Morley College, a workers education centre set up in the 19th century.”
Simon Yuill, All Problems of Notation will be Solved by the Masses, 23 May 2008,

An almost infinite database

“the Teachable File (tTF) is a working catalog of alternative art schools and a reference on education-as-art. The file delivers and demonstrates its subject by acting as both a resource for teaching and a student of its users. It forms and reforms itself through communicative action and engaged research.It is what it is; it will be what it will be.” →

Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1865, chapter 9

They had not gone far before they saw the Mock Turtle in the distance, sitting sad and lonely on a little ledge of rock, and, as they came nearer, Alice could hear him sighing as if his heart would break.
She pitied him deeply. “What is his sorrow?” she asked the Gryphon. And the Gryphon answered, very nearly in the same words as before, “It’s all his fancy, that: he hasn’t got no sorrow, you know. Come on!”
So they went up to the Mock Turtle, who looked at them with large eyes full of tears, but said nothing.
“This here young lady,” said the Gryphon, “she wants for to know your history, she do.”
“I’ll tell it her,” said the Mock Turtle in a deep, hollow tone. “Sit down, both of you, and don’t speak a word till I’ve finished.”
So they sat down, and nobody spoke for some minutes. Alice thought to herself “I don’t see how he can ever finish, if he doesn’t begin." But she waited patiently.
“Once,” said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, “I was a real Turtle.”
These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of “Hjckrrh!” from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle. Alice was very nearly getting up and saying, “Thank you, Sir, for your interesting story," but she could not help thinking there must be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing.
“When we were little,” the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, “we went to school in the sea. The master was an old Turtle—we used to call him Tortoise—”
“Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?” Alice asked.
“We called him Tortoise because he taught us,” said the Mock Turtle angrily. “Really you are very dull!”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,” added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth. At last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, “Drive on, old fellow! Don’t be all day about it!” and he went on in these words:
“Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn’t believe it—”
“I never said I didn’t!” interrupted Alice.
“You did,” said the Mock Turtle.
“Hold your tongue!” added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again. The Mock Turtle went on:
“We had the best of educations—in fact, we went to school every day—”
I’ve been to a day-school, too,” said Alice. “You needn’t be so proud as all that.”
“With extras?” asked the Mock Turtle, a little anxiously.
“Yes,” said Alice; “we learned French and music.”
“And washing?” said the Mock Turtle.
“Certainly not!” said Alice indignantly.
“Ah! Then yours wasn’t a really good school,” said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. “Now, at ours, they had, at the end of the bill, ’French, music, and washing—extra.’”
“You couldn’t have wanted it much,” said Alice; “living at the bottom of the sea.”
“I couldn’t afford to learn it,” said the Mock Turtle with a sigh. “I only took the regular course.”
“What was that?” inquired Alice.
“Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,” the Mock Turtle replied; “and then the different branches of Arithmetic—Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.”
“I never heard of ’Uglification,’” Alice ventured to say. “What is it?”
The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. “Never heard of uglifying!” it exclaimed. “You know what to beautify is, I suppose?”
“Yes,” said Alice doubtfully: “it means—to—make—anything—prettier.”
“Well, then,” the Gryphon went on, “if you don’t know what to uglify is, you are a simpleton.”
Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it: so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said, “What else had you to learn?”
“Well, there was Mystery,” the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers—"Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling—the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week: he taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.”
“What was that like?” said Alice.
“Well, I can’t show it you, myself,” the Mock Turtle said: “I’m too stiff. And the Gryphon never learned it.”
“Hadn’t time,” said the Gryphon: “I went to the Classical master, though. He was an old crab, he was.”
“I never went to him,” the Mock Turtle said with a sigh. “He taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.”
“So he did, so he did,” said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.
“And how many hours a day did you do lessons?” said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.
“Ten hours the first day,” said the Mock Turtle: “nine the next, and so on.”
“What a curious plan!” exclaimed Alice.
“That’s the reason they’re called lessons,” the Gryphon remarked: “because they lessen from day to day.”
This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. “Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?”
“Of course it was,” said the Mock Turtle.
“And how did you manage on the twelfth?” Alice went on eagerly.
“That’s enough about lessons,” the Gryphon interrupted in a very decided tone. “Tell her something about the games now.”

Learning situations

Thierry de Duve is one of the Erg founders (1972–76)
Practical and theoretical analysis of its beginning.
Theoretical: Foucault trihedron — history, art and esthetics as taboo words.
Practical: one premisse: you can make art with anything
Studios around 4 axes: structure, gesture, image, colour
But here de Duve mentions what was for him a mistake “the image cannot be an axis just like the structure and the color, perhaps the gesture”
Active debates around the social utility of the artist.
“The margin is perhaps actually the center.”

Various references

The twelfth edition of Casco Issues, Generous Structures, is a playful enquiry into “playfulness” as a value in critical cultural practice. It positions alternative notions of playing against the grain of neoliberal ideologies of “lifelong learning” and “work as play”. A selection of essays:

“An item is listed in the CATALOG if it is deemed:
    Useful as a tool
    Relevant to independent education
    High quality or low cost
    Not already common knowledge
    Easily available by mail

The Lehrstücke (plural form; singular: Lehrstück) are a radical and experimental form of modernist theatre developed by Bertolt Brecht and his collaborators from the 1920s to the late 1930s. The Lehrstücke stem from Brecht’s Epic Theatre techniques but as a core principle explore the possibilities of learning through acting, playing roles, adopting postures and attitudes, etc. and hence no longer divide between actors and audience. Brecht himself translated the term as learning-play,[1] emphasizing the aspect of learning through participation, whereas the German term could also be understood as teaching-play. →

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