(Above is an audio recording of the blog post)

‘Every creative act—in science, art, or religion—involves a regression to a more primitive level, a new innocence of perception liberated from the cataract of accepted beliefs’, Arthur Koestler (2014, p. 489)

Creativity is obsessed with the new. Be it a novel artwork or the latest leap in technology, creativity is at the vanguard of every innovative advance. Nevertheless, this advance is rarely unopposed. Blocking the path of sheer novelty is often the old style or the ruling theory. It must be overcome, defeated, lest the creative process grinds to a halt. If we see creativity as such a dual act of destruction of the old and creation of the new, we are faced with a fundamental paradox. Having first destroyed the chief vantage point, from where does one leap to create anew? An answer can be found in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

Arthur Koestler posits creativity as both destruction and creation. Slavish adherence to the accepted theory must be broken with for a new creative departure to occur (Koestler, 2014). This is a real conundrum for the creative classroom. The teaching of art and creativity is often centred around learning theories and adopting methods, instilling a certain way of working creatively in the student. Koestler’s idea of the creative individual, however, is twofold; they are both sceptical iconoclasts and naïve believers (2014). While naïve believers might feel at home with the traditional teaching of creativity, iconoclasm rarely finds its way into the classroom, especially when the teacher is the one presenting the icons. How, then, can we facilitate both sceptical destruction and novel creation? We can look to one of the most famous rebellions against art education there ever was – the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

In 1848, the Royal Academy of Art taught painting in a very traditional way, a tradition traceable all the way back to the great Renaissance prodigy Raphael. This ‘Raphaelite’ way of painting was the leading artistic paradigm. Learning to master it was the natural route for any aspiring painter to follow. Seven artists, however, refused. They came together in opposition to the Royal Academy and formed the ‘Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood’. Why are they the forerunners for the kind of creative education I am outlining? In the words of a founding member, William Holman Hunt: ‘the first principle of Pre-Raphaelitism was to eschew all that was conventional in contemporary art’ (1974, p. 34). Before they ever put paint to canvas, the Pre-Raphaelites first tore down the idols of the Royal Academy. The real clue to their creativity is in their name. Pre-Raphaelitism has a twofold nature; a refusal to follow certain schools or masters, and a longing for archaic inspiration that convention denied them (Prettejohn, 2012). First, they broke with the ways of the Raphaelites. Herein lies the destructive act of the creative process. Where did they go for the crucial second act? They looked back in time, beyond Raphael, to late medieval and early Renaissance art (Giebelhausen, 2012). From there they created anew as Pre-Raphaelites.

It was revolutionary in both senses of the word, a return to the old as well as a new beginning. ‘We drew from this fountain source, and strove to add strengths to its further meanderings by the inflow of new streams from nature and scientific knowledge’ (Hunt, 1974, p. 39). The Pre-Raphaelites chose another beginning from which to draw inspiration. They did not so much eschew, as circumvent, convention, going back to its point of origins and taking the road less travelled by. From there, they created their own journey of influences resulting in a revolutionary departure in art. Yet, the Pre-Raphaelites obviously had the necessary knowledge of art history to choose another source of creative inspiration. This goes right at the heart of the issue. What is the teacher to teach?

The Pre-Raphaelites did not rebel against being taught art, they rebelled against being taught what was ‘great’ art. John Ruskin, the intellectual godfather of the Pre-Raphaelites, wrote that ‘every system of teaching is false which holds forth “great art” as in any way wise to be taught to students, or even to be aimed at by them’ (Ruskin, 1995, p. 111). The teacher must therefore adopt the view of art history where ‘There really is no such thing as Art. There are only artists’ (Gombrich, 1951, p. 5). Should the teacher’s paradigmatic preference come through, it must be made clear that it is OK, even encouraged, to rebel against it. The students must be given both something to reject and something to be inspired from. One part of what is taught must be destroyed, another part must be chosen as a new ‘fountain source’ for creation.

History is therefore essential as a source of inspiration for the creative student. However, it must not be a teleological, arborescent view of history where if the trunk is severed the student has no branch from which to create. Rather, it must be a rhizomatic kind of history that ‘connects any point to any other point’ (Deleuze & Guattari, 2020, p. 21). Art history must be taught as a multitude of artists, all equally worthy as sources of inspiration. Here, the student can destroy one part and create from another, never being far from a new ‘fountain source’.

Art history must be a game of hopscotch where alternative routes can lead to novel creations. To master the dual act of destruction and creation, the student must always have a point to leap from, and another to leap to. What the Pre-Raphaelites teach us is that what appears to be the ultimate ‘end’ of art history, can equally be a new point of departure. What is archaic can become novel if you take it through the right creative route. Sometimes you must just step back a bit to leap further.

References

Deleuze, G., & Guattari, F. (2020). A Thousand Plateaus. London: Bloomsbury Academic.

Giebelhausen, M. (2012). The religious and intellectual background. In E. Prettejohn, The Cambridge Companion to the Pre-Raphaelites (pp. 62-75). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Gombrich, E. H. (1951). The Story of Art. London: Phaidon Press Ltd.

Hunt, W. H. (1974). Pre-Raphaelitism and the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. In J. Sambrook, Pre-Raphaelitism: A Collection of Critical Essays (pp. 27-44). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

Koestler, A. (2014). The Sleepwalkers: A History of Man’s Changing Vision of the Universe. London: Penguin Classics.

Prettejohn, E. (2012). Introduction. In E. Prettejohn, The Cambridge Companion to the Pre-Raphaelites (pp. 1-12). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Ruskin, J. (1995). Selected Writings. London: Everyman.