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BOOK REVIEW
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CREATIVE CONSTRUING - PERSONAL
CONSTRUCTIONS IN THE ARTS
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Jörn W. Scheer and Kenneth W. Sewell (Eds.)
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Giessen: Psychosozial-Verlag, 2006, Paperback, 216 pages, €
24,90
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reviewed by David M. Mills
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PORTRAIT
OF THE ARTIST AS A PERSONAL SCIENTIST
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Student: I've
been reading about Personal Construct Theory and I get the
man-as-scientist
metaphor, but I'm not so sure about where the arts come in. What's
creative
about construing? I mean, sure we are all something like an artist,
just as we
are all something like a scientist. But I'd like to know more about
this
connection between PCT and the arts. You are all artists of some kind.
What do
you think?
Singer: Well, I
don't know that I'd say I am an artist. I enjoy singing, and that is
certainly
an important part of who I am. But I wouldn't call myself a singer.
Dancer: I think
if you sing, you're a singer. Just like I dance, so I'm a dancer.
Singer: In a way,
yes, but the difference between singing and being a singer is a
significant
one—being a real singer, I mean. Vivien Burr talks about that in her
essay, in
that book on creative construing.
Dancer: And Sara
Bridges says similar things about dancing. I know that I construe
myself as a
person who dances, and that is very important to me, but whether that
means
that I am a dancer is another question. It's a matter of who gets to
decide.
Actor: Of course
we actors are always construing ourselves in at least two ways at once,
as the
character and as a member of the cast. I usually don't have time to
think about
whether I construe myself as an actor.
Reviewer:
Personally, I find all this autobiography to be a bit daunting. Do I
have to
construe myself as a reviewer before I can throw my hat into this
conversation?
Dancer: Well, you
could construe yourself as a recreational reviewer, I suppose.
Writer: Is
reviewing an art form? Or something else?
Reviewer: The
question of how people involved in the arts construe themselves is just
one of
the fascinating questions considered in the collection of essays, Creative
Construing: Personal Constructions in the Arts edited by Jörn
W. Scheer and
Kenneth W. Sewell. It is, like its subject matter, an eclectic and
personal mix
of creative explorations. So I will construe myself as a person who has
been
involved in one way or another with all of the forms of art discussed
in the
book and join the participants in wondering about the interplay of
psychological and artistic construing.
Constructive
Construing opens “A PCT view of novel
writing and reading” by Don Bannister,
followed by Max Farrar's discussion of Bannister's own novels. The
novel is
seen as an extended form in which the constructive aspects—both in the
writing
and in the reading—emerge slowly enough to be laid out for easier
viewing. Fay
Fransella contributes an essay on Kelly as a literary figure—his
storytelling
and his poetry—in which she wonders whether we may find in them secrets
about
Kelly's own view of his psychological work.
Writer: So both
Bannister and Kelly seem to have used literary creation as a way of
getting at
things they couldn't reach in psychological mode.
Student: That is
consistent with what Kelly himself said about how the poor scientist
and the
poor writer “both fail in their make-believe.” Kelly and Bannister are
both
willing to use both kinds of make-believe to get to what they had to
say.
Reviewer: Well,
yes, and then in his essay, Chris Stevens lets a group of fiction
writers speak
for themselves about their use of 'non-validation' as an important part
of
their creative process. They describe a kind of deliberate holding open
of the
Experience Cycle to create a space in which their characters can find
their own
path in ways the writer cannot anticipate. Or rather, it is a different
sort of
anticipating, “a bodily stance toward one's world” except in this case
toward
the world they are creating. Stevens and the writers describe this as
more a
'waiting upon' kind of anticipating than a 'looking for.'
Student: So
writing is more like a personal natural history than a personal science?
Writer: Yes, I
suppose it is; it's like moving into new, unknown territory and just
waiting to
see what comes along and making sense of it as it comes. And one of the
fascinating things about that is what it reveals about myself. As the
story
comes together, I find myself coming together in a new way as well. And
often
it actually 'feels' different. Interesting how such an obviously mental
activity like writing a novel reveals what a bodily activity construing
is.
Dancer: Hmm. That's
interesting. I feel like that after I dance, but I never thought of
writing
that way. And Personal Construct Theory can help us understand things
like
that? I wonder why this hasn't been looked at before.
Reviewer: The
premise of the book is that Personal Construct Theory can be useful for
taking
a fresh look at the arts, and in particular how artistic activity
affects the
artist's self-construing. In the process, it also shows that the arts
provide a
fresh look at PCT. Richard Bell goes so far as to cast Poetry as
a form
of Personal Construct Theory. But this is a group that takes the
personal in
Personal Construct Theory seriously, as we find in Sean Brophy's
personal
account of writing haiku as a means of elaborating vitally important
meanings.
Writer: As Brophy
says, “Reading and writing are acts of philosophy.” There is a close
parallel
between the construing involved in writing and the equally revealing
construing
in reading. I wonder if this same parallel is present with other art
forms.
Musician: You
know, speaking of personal accounts, Jörn Scheer actually
interviews himself about
PCP and jazz. He says that being “a PCP person” and being “a jazz
person” have
a lot of similarities—both are somewhat out of the mainstream and both
are in
some way “in between.” Anyway, talking about jazz rhythms, he cites
Jerry
Coker's book on improvising, a book I happen to have myself. I remember
that
Coker received a letter from a jazz pianist named Browne who taught
theory at
Yale, and I think that Browne had some very PCT sounding things to say
about
improvising.
Richmond Browne: The listener is constantly making
predictions; actual infinitesimal predictions as to whether the next
event even
will be a repetition of something, or something different. The player
is
constantly either confirming or denying these predictions in the
listener's mind.
As nearly as we can tell, the listener must come out right about 50% of
the
time—if he is too successful in predicting, he will be bored; if he is
too
unsuccessful, he will give up and call the music 'disorganized.'1
Musician: Yeah,
that was it. Isn't that what the writers were doing? And one way or
another the
other kinds of artists are doing the same thing.
Actor: So art is
always a sort of conversation between the artist and the audience—a
conversation of setting up anticipations and then validating or
invalidating
them.
Dancer: Or a
dance.
Reviewer: So
there is really quite a bit going on in this little book. The essays
fall
generally into three categories, though as might be expected from a
group of
psychologist/artists, few of them will hold still and fit into only one
category. Basically, though, there are those, like Bannister's that
elaborate
an art form or its personal or social uses in PCT terms. Other essays
in this
group are Eric Button's “Music and the Person,” about how we use music
in our
self-construction, Devorah Kalekin-Fishman's “Construing sounds,
constructing
music and non-music,” about how kindergarten children are taught to
construe
music and non-music, and Jonathan Raskin's “Sociality and the sitcom.”
A second group collect
the views, or
consider the experiences, of individuals involved in the arts to reveal
ways
that personal reconstruing through creative activity is extended across
people's lives. In “Stand at the back and pretend – the experience of
learning
to sing,” Mary Frances gives us the story of a group of people who were
convinced in early life that they “could not sing,” and who had the
joyful
experience of reconstruing both what singing is and who they were.
Sabrina
Cipolletta does a similar thing with a group of students in dance class
in
“Construing through the body: The dancing experience,” showing through
an
analysis of the dancers' experiences just how embodied personal
construing is.
Perhaps not
surprisingly, some of the most
lively essays are those that are personal accounts of construing and
reconstruing in artistic form. In addition to those already
mentioned—Brophy's
“Haiku poetry: Escape from constriction,” Burr's “Becoming a singer:
PCT and
voice,” Bridges' “Music and mirrors: Dance as a construction of self”
and Scheer's
“Living with jazz: Construing cultural identity”—co-editor Kenneth
Sewell
contributes “Construing characters and cast: Personal constructs on the
stage
and in the dressing room.” Each of these is a personal reflection in
which the
author's story as a PCT person is inseparable from their story as an
artist. Burr
traces her own journey from being a person who sings to embodying her
self-construction as “a singer.” Bridges tells a multidimensional story
in
which she returns to dance and yet never left it, and in which she
faces the
question of who gets to decide whether construing oneself as an artist
fits
with others' expectations. Sewell's story is explicitly
multidimensional,
exploring the layers of construing of an actor—as simultaneously a
character on
a story being performed for an audience and a member of a cast, both on
and off
stage.
The collection rounds
out with C.T. Patrick
Diamond's reflection on years of working toward a constructivist and
arts-based
approach in higher education and Jörn Scheer's helpful “A short
introduction to
Personal Construct Psychology” for readers who are coming to the book
without a
PCP background.
Actor: It seems
that everyone in this book is playing out multiple layers of
construing. That
in itself says something about the constructive nature of art. I mean,
what
Vivian Burr says about the postural aspects of playing the role of
Singer and
how that affects the singing, and the relation to the audience, is
similar to
what Kenneth is saying.
Dancer: Yes, and
the way those dancers were embodying their self-construing in how they
moved in
space and time is like that too.
Writer: But it's
also like what the writer does. In fact, I've written a haiku about
that.
The
construing self
Multidimensional
world
A
writer, I am.
Singer: Not fair.
You're the only one who can put any of what you do here.
Writer: Well.
That's true. But that's a whole other set of questions about
differences
between art forms—like how with writing both the creation and the
connection to
the reader are more extended in time and space. Anyway, what I think
we're onto
is the similarities. But I do like how so many of the contributers are
really
telling their own stories. Is that what artists are always
doing—indirectly
telling their own stories?
Reviewer: There
is a strong emphasis in several of these essays on the ways in which
the art
reveals the embodied quality of personal construing. This is naturally
most
evident in the performing arts, but to go along with the writer's
enjoyment of
the 'feeling' of a story coming together, I remember a comment by
Native
American artist, Bill Reid, about the life of a piece of sculpture.
Bill
Reid: Whenever
we look at a particular piece of Northwest Coast
art and
see the shape of it, we are only looking at its afterlife. Its real
life is the
movement by which it got to be that shape.2
Student: This
takes me back to the questions I began with. I suppose a person can't
really be
a scientist without being an artist. Of course, construing must be
creative,
and it is by observing the arts that we see that in practice most
clearly. It
seems that not only does PCT reveal something about the arts, but the
arts also
reveal important things about PCT. They are where we can see personal
construing right out in front of us.
Dancer: And respond to it with personal construing of our own.
Reviewer: That's
a good idea to finish with. It seems in the end, that every artist,
whether
they construe themselves to be Artists or not, is actively engaged,
committed
to action through which the person, as Kelly puts it, “becomes a
significant
event” in their own experience. And it appears that this is true for
the person
who engages with art as well as the one who creates it.
1 Quoted in
Coker, J. (1964) Improvising
Jazz, New York: Simon & Schuster
2 Reid, B. (1971)
from Natural
Visions exhibit at Seattle Art Museum
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ABOUT THE
AUTHOR
David M
Mills, Ph.D.,
is a founding member of The Performance School in Seattle, Washington. He has
been investigating how personal constructs are embodied in performance,
theoretically and in practice with performers for more than 25 years.
Email: davidm@performanceschool.org |
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REFERENCE
Mills, D. M.
(2006). Portrait of the artist as a personal
scientist: A review of: Scheer, J. W., Sewell, K. W. (Eds.) (2006) Creative Construing -
Personal Constructs in the Arts. - Personal
Construct Theory & Practice, 3, 34-37, 2006
(Retrieved from http://www.pcp-net.org/journal/pctp06/mills06.html)
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EDITORS' NOTE
Subscribers to this journal are entitled to purchasing this book at a
special discount price. See info.
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Received: 16 December 2006 - Accepted: 16 December 2006 -
Published: 17 December 2006 |
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