Part I: Approach to Teaching
Statement on Teaching Philosophy
My training as an historian with expertise in material and visual culture in the Atlantic world after 1500 has defined my teaching and classroom practice. As an historian, I know the responsibilities of presenting in clear and effective ways the facts, interpretive frameworks, and critical implications of the study of the past. I aim, always, to present history in accessible ways, making complex information graspable, stimulating and, where possible, thrilling. Teaching is a particular passion of mine, and drawing on a number of remarkable and motivating teachers in my own past, I have worked diligently across my career to be an effective educator. I organize my teaching philosophy around four core principles: 1) Student-driven and inquiry-led engagement; 2) innovative classroom practices and pedagogy; 3) culturally-responsive and inclusive classrooms; and 4) a commitment to ongoing and lifelong learning. These principles have allowed me to support and advance the department’s goals of student success and student learning.
I believe in student-driven and inquiry-led engagement.
In all cases, no matter what the subject, I work to foster student engagement and a productive curiosity in a subject, and I strive to bring students to a deeper understanding of the critical work of studying a subject in depth. Teaching at an art and design university specifically is a unique and special privilege. Given my work in visual and material culture, I am always interested in the cultures of contemporary making, and my students offer invaluable wisdom to me about what they are doing. Frequently students mention that they are eager to get back to their studio, which speaks to their focus and drive in their chosen areas of work. As such, I understand my responsibility to make the history of objects – interiors, design, and furniture – meaningful. I work actively to interrogate creativity, experimentation, and fabrication across time in ways that honor the integrity of the discipline of history while providing students with information, examples, and insights that might resonate with their experiences as makers in a complex world.
An example of my student-driven teaching approach is evident in the ways I foster connections between the past and the present. In the first meeting of my VISD 3003, “History of Furniture” class, a course which surveys globally the creation of what are essential tools in life, I shared with students some foundational facts and concepts: the four noticeably consistent typological categories of furniture (objects on which to sit, things on which sleep, things at which to work, and things that can store other objects), the Eurocentric character of design history, and the use of material culture as a methodological framework for the study of global furniture. I then asked the students in the classroom to identify all the items that could be classified as furniture. Rightly, the students pointed out the smart lectern with its screen and interface at which I was standing, a white board (an item not universally agreed upon to be a piece of furniture), a lone rectangular table with a melamine top and, obviously, the devices in which they were sitting. Mass produced, and comprised of black metal frames, blue plastic seat and back rests and an MDF, laminated flip up work surface, (the majority, as a student pointed out, configured for right-handed people), the chairs were, in the opinions of many students, utilitarian, institutional, and unremarkable. In discussing the chair/desks in the classroom we talked about mass production, ergonomics, materiality, and what was agreed upon as the banality of the seating objects in question. Some students expressed their dismay at the use of environmentally problematic materials. Some students lamented the state of design ("why do so many mass produced objects have to be ugly?" asked one student). And how, possibly, could an unremarkable chair made by the thousands and placed in classrooms be a legitimate subject of study. I explained, by way of material culture theory, that the chairs in our classroom were valuable pieces of evidence of larger systems of value and exchange, material transformation, form and use. The next day, when talking about medieval furniture (the last section of a survey of the earliest furniture cultures of the world) I showed an image of a monk sitting in a chair to which was attached a work surface. The students were genuinely amazed at the similarities between the monk's 13th century desk and the much criticized contemporary version. Many students expressed their pleasure at the fact of the persistence of the form and what the comparison afforded, namely the role of furniture in cultures of learning across millennia and how the past, while distant, is connected to our contemporary experiences in real and powerful ways.
I believe in innovative classroom practices and pedagogy.
In every class I teach my goal is to instill in my students what I call critical mindedness about a discipline – curatorial practice of the study of the past – and, in the case of history classes, historical mindedness, which is about entering into the past seeking to understand motivations, actions, and conditions. I use a variety of methods and approaches, based on what is best suited to the material and the instruction level. I seek to bring the worlds of the past alive, to make clear the importance of the study of material and visual culture, design, and other histories by connecting events and experiences of the past to contemporary ones, as demonstrated in HUMN 3011 “Stuff: The Meaning of Things.” I work enthusiastically to teach students essential research skills, strategies for the framing of questions, the use of primary sources, and the operations of a close reading of texts and the work of analysis. At all times, I work to stimulate students to be connected with the subject and material and to be excited by the prospect of learning something new.
One such example of my commitment to innovative classroom practices is my approach to “Issues in Criticism and Curatorial Studies” (CRCP 6003). Although this is a mandatory class, instructors are permitted and encouraged to fashion something based on the broad expectations of the curriculum and their own expertise. When, as program director, I taught this course I wanted to address student concerns about the Eurocentric character of western art history and the need to create new models for the study of expressive production across time and place. I decided to craft a course that interrogated the concept of the exemplary work of art – the masterpiece – and invite students to consider the criteria that might be applied to the assessment and selection of works for inclusion in an exhibition as the final research project. In order to set the stage for the students around questions of the adjudication of works of art, I assigned Kenneth Clark’s 1979 volume What is a Masterpiece? (the transcription of his Walter Neurath Memorial Lectures), where he defines a superlative work of art – what he considers to be a masterpiece and why. Starting with Giotto’s paintings in the Scrovegni Chapel and ending with Picasso’s “Guernica,” Clark assesses works for their exemplary qualities. The students, rightly critical of Clark’s work and the premise of the masterpiece in the Eurocentric construction of the timelines of western art, were then asked to inhabit a role as the curator of contemporary art at a major, unnamed institution. This curatorial exercise turned on the explanation of the character of contemporary expressive culture, the identification of global works of artistic and cultural significance, and explanations of their merits. At its core, it was having students grapple with the actuality of works and authors and the criteria of assessment that would or could result in a work being considered exemplary. The students were tasked with undertaking research and proposing a permanent exhibition for a collection for a gallery. The goal of this imaginary exercise was to envision a gallery filled with works that captured the character and culture of the present era. They had to select no less than fifteen works (none earlier than 2000) for their gallery and they had to make a presentation to the class (acting as the acquisitions committee) about the rationale for their choices. The students did superb work and the proposed collections captured the complex, compelling character of current making across materials, places, systems of thought, and personal circumstances. And while each student’s presentation varied, what was striking was that when it came down to the question of selection, the caliber of the work along with its subject matter in the context of contemporary time were the most important variables. As one student remarked, while they were initially resistant to the idea of the masterpiece, the work of the assignment required coming to terms with the unavoidable curatorial responsibilities of selection.
I believe in culturally-responsive and inclusive classrooms.
I have long been committed to fostering respectful classrooms by having students introduce themselves, share with their classmates how they wished to be addressed and share something about themselves (which, most often, concerns their area and year of study). I strive to create a captivating and culturally responsive classroom and safe environment for learning that meets students where they are, and then brings them along with me. I emphasize inquiry-led and experiential engagement with the material at hand and I embrace the intellectual, critical, and social power of the multicultural classroom. I make every effort to get to know my students and for them to know what I do in my professional, scholarly life.
One example that demonstrates my commitment to culturally-responsive and inclusive classrooms is from my “Stuff” course where I engaged students in a discussion aimed at developing a working definition of the idea of ‘culture’ (one of the fundamental themes of the course) and its operations. I asked students to think about the ways that groups of early humans (our distant ancestors) would have lived and survived. The conversation was lively and informed with multiple students commenting on the shift from hunter-gatherer to sedentary, agricultural societies, the development of stone tools, the fashioning of other implements - early clay vessels, textiles and the questions of how leaders would be chosen (with hereditary monarchs being recognized as a historical form but soundly scorned as a contemporary one). The conversation, while a selective survey and compression of some 12,000-15,000 years of human evolution and change, was effective because it drew attention to the developments of ethics, systems of faith and attending material and ritual practices, modes of dress, foodways, and tool production among other themes. I then asked students to consider the forces that might keep cultural practices intact and largely constant – geographic isolation, the strictness of beliefs and resistance to change – and to ponder the implications of changes to cultural practices (tradition). I then asked for their thoughts on the idea of authenticity and whether cultural practices could be modified as circumstances required, without compromising the integrity of what one student called “the old ways.” The consensus was overwhelmingly yes. In wrapping up, I asked the students if each of them, in the contexts of their family and identity, would identify a recipe or dish that was representative of their cultural backgrounds and post the name of it in the chat. The outpouring of food experience and history was immense, with some students posting recipes and images. Their engagement and subsequent incorporation of these themes and topics into their discussions and written work–the act of learning–demonstrates my active, inclusive approach to the classroom. I work to make all topics resonate by providing students with information and the critical apparatuses of interpretation, encouraging reflection on the topic and inviting them to share their thoughts. I always try to use examples that have immediate effect and which make clear larger concepts and ideas.
I believe in a commitment to ongoing and lifelong learning.
This work encompasses keeping up to date with developments in my fields of specialization and devoting time to understanding innovative and effective classroom practices, which my teaching evaluations reflect. I serve on the editorial boards of several journals where new scholarship is published, have been invited to jury exhibitions of contemporary work, and serve on the boards of multiple nonprofits that fund groundbreaking and innovative work. Beyond these activities which keep me abreast of original scholarship and work, I read widely in the fields of design, art, architecture, post-colonial studies, and curatorial studies to understand the essential ideas I need to bring into the classroom and share with students. I attend conferences with colleagues across the field to exchange ideas and best practices, and bring those practices back to OCAD.
As these examples make clear, I make students active participants in the process of learning and their own education. I bring innovative pedagogical strategies to the classroom to challenge students in new ways. I am a culturally responsive teacher, respectful and mindful of the diversity of the scholarly community. I want the work of knowledge production and exchange to be collaborative. My teaching evaluations and student feedback indicate my success in this practice, and reveal my commitment to our students’ intellectual and professional growth.
Teaching Strategies
My scholarship and educational philosophy center around the key question: How do we advance the work of research, knowledge production and knowledge exchange while also seeking to critique, challenge, and, where necessary, change systems of knowledge systems that can be hegemonic, biased ,and exclusionary? As an educator, I take seriously my responsibilities to share information, present grounded and plausible arguments and assist students in their intellectual development. Over the course of my career, my understanding of the character of my training and expertise has changed. I have over the last two decades questioned my thinking and I have immersed myself in the literatures of decolonization and the critical pedagogies of knowledge production and social justice. I have come to a place in my career as an educator and scholar where I use the interpretive frameworks that emphasize inclusion, the pluralities of experience and which seek critical transparency in the study of the past.
Most recently, I was given the responsibility of teaching a course titled “Architecture in Canada” (VISD 3001). This is a new course for me and I thought carefully about the subject, the history of the subject in settler Canada and how I could apply my commitment to decolonizing knowledge systems to a subject that is embedded in the settler/national mindset. I begin the course with a twinned discussion of the premise and historical facts of the colonial national project of Canada and the precepts of the study of buildings’ meaning, architectural history and criticism. Starting with an examination of Indigenous buildings practices in Turtle Island – with the igloo, the wigwam, and the teepee considered as the most perfect of built forms because of their formal sophistication and construction from available natural materials – I have framed this discussion as a way of considering Indigenous cultures before the present era and after settler arrival and as a point of reference in the study of the evolution of settler and Indigenous form-making to the present. The course looks at early culturally transposed practices – in Acadia, New France and the west – the fortresses of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and the defensive structures of early explorers, for example, and across the arc of architecture across the country. We explore identity and historicism, as well as the emergence of reform thinking and the arrival of modernism and its critically regional expression, the distinct and telling popularity of megastructures (Simon Fraser University in Burnaby, British Columbia, the McMaster University Health Science Building in Hamilton, Ontario and Ontario Place in Toronto), and then the advent of postmodernism, neo-modernism and the contemporary field and the work of Indigenous makers including Douglas Cardinal, Alfred Waugh and Kelly Edzerza-Bapty where community and decolonization sit at the heart of their practices. It is my hope that the students in the class will gain both an understanding of the human roles architecture has played in Turtle Island / Canada and how the study of built form provides an opportunity for the interrogation of social, cultural and ideological values with their attending agendas and consequences.
My approach to teaching, and thus changing knowledge systems, is varied and responsive. I organize my classroom experiences around active participation in class, a student’s preparation for class, a student’s involvement and engagement, and the effective communication of complex material. My teaching strategies are also rooted in object-based learning; the inquiry begins with material in the world and human-created objects that help students comprehend design, aesthetics, and form in concrete, tangible ways across time and geography.
I have taught at both the undergraduate and graduate levels, modulating my approaches to the skill level required of the course. For large undergraduate lectures – history surveys of furniture, interior architecture, architecture and material culture – I prepare Powerpoint presentations that tell critically-informed stories underpinned by arguments about society, belief systems, ideology, cultural values, aesthetics, makers, practices across time which play out over the course of the duration of the class (which at OCAD University are three hours long), leaving plenty of time for questions and active engagement from the students. Assignments between classes range from research and reading, to gallery and exhibition visits with written responses that allow students to engage in close reading of texts and objects and reflect on what they are seeing in the context of the course. I draw on a mixture of solo and group activities, allowing students to work independently and also demonstrate learning through teamwork.
For graduate seminars, the students are asked to read material that might challenge them with unfamiliar arguments or viewpoints, and then come to class prepared to engage in dialogue with their peers on their interpretation of the material. A seminar succeeds when the environment feels comfortable and respectful. I always start the class with a check-in and ‘open mic.’ I ask students to take turns leading us through discussions and ask them to be active agents in their own intellectual growth. In my seminars, students learn through both theory and practice, with visiting guests that include active practitioners and designers who engage students in their practice. I cultivate rich conversations through inquiry-led learning, and encourage exchange across viewpoints.
Michael Prokopow