In “No Art Historian Is an Island” presented by Amy Von Lintel of West Texas A&M University, the hybrid nature of art history as a discipline was elegantly juxtaposed to what the author referred to as the “realities of the many headed hydra”, referring to the diversity of responsibilities one takes on as an art historian in a small department. One particularly prescient strategy presented by Von Lintel was to create a more interdisciplinary experience for her students through collaborative teaching. By inviting carefully selected guest lecturers from other departments at her university to her classes, Von Lintel not only vastly expands the knowledge base of her classroom, she employs a pedagogical strategy which reinforces the value of deep learning and fosterers greater student focus. Furthermore, her collaboration with the other faculty at her college undoubtedly serves as a model for successful collaboration and specialization for her students, stressing the nature of scholarship as a shared enterprise.

The third and final paper was presented by Gregory Gilbert of Knox College and titled “The Solitary Art Historian in a Liberal Arts College: Strategies for Aligning Faculty and Student Research”. After some years of struggling to find time for his scholarly duties beyond the classroom, Gilbert decided to more explicitly integrate his ongoing scholarly work into his courses. Rather than employing the common strategy of teaching his dissertation, Gilbert instead began to use his courses to both share and expand his research area through the vehicle of his coursework with students. He was able to do this by proposing seminar themes, term paper topics, and student research areas more closely related to his area of focus. In doing so Gilbert found that he was able to more effectively guide students at all areas of research and course projects.

Having some background in medical academic publishing, I was reminded of the ubiquitous strategy of collaborative research and publication in the medical fields, where research duties are divided according to rank and/or specialty and credit is shared among several authors. Faculty at teaching hospitals or universities publish collaborative work with their advanced students, providing clear benefits for both parties. Simultaneously hearing Gilbert’s strategies and recalling my experience left me wondering why art historical publication typically continues to be such a solitary enterprise.

The theme that clearly united all of these papers was collaboration. The panel emphasized how art history faculty can improve their efficacy through collaboration with one another and faculty from other departments. Most importantly this panel stressed how working with students can be viewed as collaboration, albeit heavily guided by the instructor. By viewing teaching as essentially collaborative, faculty can foster a greater sense of ownership and responsibility over art history and create more learner-centered environments where students can more effectively integrate art history into their own sense of self.

The sessions I’ve visited thus far have been largely interesting, with some presenters generating more enthusiasm than others. “Deconstructing Costume Histories: Rereading Identities in Fashion Collections and Exhibitions” was highly informative, offering new research from several experts from academia and museums. “Who Do We Teach: Challenges and Strategies in Recognizing Our Students, and Developing and Supporting Curriculum for Multiple Constituencies” offered some interesting perspective on pedagogy, but seemed to not line up well with the expectations produced by the title. Focus was placed not on who students are, but on how certain professors deal with their own expectations of students. Several interesting and relevant questions were produced by audience members regarding how instructors and professors might apply the theories presented to their own practice. The responses seemed highly personal and largely unsatisfying for the audience, suggesting the session successfully identified an area of need, but failed to adequately address that need.

“The Other Histories of Photography: The First One Hundred Years” was comprised of five papers exploring the margins of the field, often with surprising results. In particular Melody D. Davis’ exploration of the positions and operations of stereography in 19^th century culture, and 20^th century historiography, was both enlightening and instructive. Davis’ enthusiasm and expertise effectively brought her subject to life, illustrating it’s history and relevance.  “Technology in the Art History Classroom: A Hands-On Learning Workshop” was an informative workshop offering participant the opportunity to learn briefly about four web-based pedagogical tools, followed by a more in-depth exploration of one particular tool of the participant’s choice. I appreciated the practical applications and solutions offered which helped to concretize and contextualize much of the more theoretical content of the conference.

On that theoretical note, “The Theoretical Turn”, a special session honoring the work of Rosalind Krauss, sought to elucidate Krauss’ influence on other scholars and professionals in art history. Presenters spoke about the effects that Krauss’ work has on them both personally and professionally. Yve-Alain Bois’ introduction neatly summarized the effects of Krauss’ work on his own career, and subsequent speakers elucidated their particular relationships with her work. After hearing these stories, the vast network of Krauss’ influence began to crystallize more clearly, and I appreciated hearing how various scholars have uniquely incorporated her work into their own practice.

On a practical note, the Los Angeles Convention Center could be much more visitor friendly. The lack of food options is surprising, and the existing options are reminiscent of the food one typically finds at a zoo. A few of the temporary walls dividing larger rooms have been found to be insufficient at isolating noise from neighboring sessions. Most of the sessions I visited were not more that half full, implying that smaller rooms would have been more practical and might have fostered greater discussion and debate. Of course, this may be a reflection of my own interests and choices of sessions.

1. The State of the Discipline

Chairs: Sandra Esslinger, Mount San Antonio College; Deana Hight, Mount San Antonio College

While many of us may feel we already have answers to questions this session is likely to pose, it seems important for anyone who wishes to imagine their future in Art History.

2. What Is Conceptual Thinking?

Chair: Steven Bleicher, Coastal Carolina University

Like conceptual art, conceptual thinking is an area that I find to be challenging for my students. I look forward to being in their shoes for a couple of hours.

3. Who Do We Teach? Challenges and Strategies in Recognizing Our Students, and Developing and Supporting Curriculum for Multiple Constituencies

Chairs: Joan Giroux, Columbia College Chicago; Cindy Maguire, Adelphi University

Speaking of being in their shoes, shouldn’t we strive to better understand our students? We spend so much energy helping them understand who we are and what we do, and I for one am often surprised by them.

4. Flying Solo: The Opportunities and Challenges Presented to the Solitary Art Historian in a Small College

Chairs: Laura J. Crary, Presbyterian College; William Ganis, Wells College

Though on it’s surface this session has a narrow focus, I suspect that many of the questions presented will be relevant to even those art historians in larger departments. I, for instance, fly tandem. Nonetheless I am looking forward to learning about how other historians have embraced the challenges of interdisciplinary pedagogy and small departments.

5. Technology in the Art History Classroom: A Hands-On Learning Workshop

Chair: Sarah Jarmer Scott, Wagner College

I’m always looking for new opportunities to engage my students. Many of the technological and pedagogical advancements I’ve experienced have made a positive impact on my classroom, and many of them have been more distracting than productive

But instead I must devote the little time I have these days for the newsletter to this: I just discovered that the NRC revised its rankings back in April after discovering errors in its data. So, I should go back and revise the findings of my last post on this subject. Using my (admittedly arbitrary) method of average the NRC two rating systems, I get this revised ranking:

1 University of California-Berkeley
2 University of Chicago
3 Columbia University in the City of New York
4 Yale University
5 Princeton University
6 New York University
7 Harvard University
8 University of California-Los Angeles
9 Northwestern University
10 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
11 University of Texas at Austin
12 University of Pennsylvania
13 Massachusetts Institute of Technology
14 Duke University
15 Brown University
16 University of Michigan-Ann Arbor
17 University of California-Santa Barbara
18 University of Southern California (*)
19 University of Wisconsin-Madison
20 City University of New York Grad. Center
21 University of Pittsburgh Pittsburgh Campus (*)
22 Stanford University
23 University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign (*)
24 University of Maryland College Park
25 Bryn Mawr College
26 Temple University
27 University of Delaware
28 Johns Hopkins University
29 Washington University in St. Louis (*)
30 Penn State University
31 Emory University
32 University of Washington
33 Rutgers the State University of New Jersey New Brunswick Campus
34 Indiana University at Bloomington
35 University of Minnesota-Twin Cities (*)
36 Case Western Reserve University
37 University of Kansas
38 University of Georgia
39 State University of New York at Stony Brook
40 Boston University
41 University of Iowa
42 University of Virginia
43 Ohio State University Main Campus
44 University of Missouri – Columbia
45 Cornell University
46 State University of New York at Binghamton
47 Florida State University
48 Virginia Commonwealth University
49 University of New Mexico Main Campus
50 University of Louisville

*: An asterisk indicates that the program scored the same as the one above it.

It is true that the books do emphasize different aspects of the story (each of them treats Michelangelo’s career in the years leading up to his painting of the Sistine chapel ceiling as a narrative). King’s book describes a troubled three-way relationship involving Michelangelo, Pope Julius II, and the ceiling itself, with various supporting cast members. It’s narrative arc is strong, and it is a quick, engaging read. The first half of Graham-Dixon’s book is essentially a condensed version of the first third of King’s, while the second half contains a concise and thoughtful analysis of the subjects, form, and content of the ceiling itself, which somehow remains in the background of King’s book. Spike’s work focuses closely on the artist’s life and works before the Sistine, providing a fuller account, but one which is inevitably somewhat repetitive to readers of King and Graham-Dixon.

Is the market for Michelangelo big enough to support such frequent publication? Are the three studies fundamentally different, mutually supportive, and hence each worthy of publication, economics aside? Or does the repetition of subject matter actually support each of the books, both in terms of esteem and sales?

Now the center of this spectrum has come into focus. There are several instances of free online scholarly publications which maintain an editorial review board of credentialed scholars and practice peer review. Here is a cross section:

http://www.riha-journal.org/

http://nonsite.org/

http://www.shockwrite.org/

http://stretcher.org/

http://www.wornthrough.com/

Clearly the people involved in these projects have recognized the relative ease and freedom of online publishing vs traditional. Furthermore, they have found outlets for the their work, which might not otherwise have been published, and have claimed a degree of authority by utilizing the methods of the traditional academic press.

How will these new types of publications compete with more traditional publications as authors become more frustrated with the difficulty of having a piece accepted for publication and look toward alternatives (the growing surplus of art historians in the West is no secret)? Will any of them be able to achieve the same level of gravitas as, say, The Art Bulletin, or October? If October were started in 2011, would it have been an online publication? Will traditional publishers appropriate for themselves some of the space being carved out by this new species?

This is an official production, edited by a former CAA executive director, and so its overall tone is predictably boosterish. That said, many authors offer good critical commentary along the way, and the book is full of interesting information. To start with a minor example, I didn’t know that CAA board members are required to donate at least $500 to the organization each year. Nor did I know the organization’s true beginnings. As Ball writes:

On more than one occasion art historians have argued incorrectly that CAA was “founded by art historians with the idea of promoting the history of art” … [Rather, CAA] had its origins in drawing and manual training … [in] the teaching of teachers of art.

CAA quickly took on a dual role, aiding artists and art historians — a multiple role, really, as it also serves art librarians, curators, and so on. Consequently, the organization often suffers from an “identity crisis.” That crisis has fueled the most lively of CAA’s internecine battles, but I found myself most interested in Craig Houser’s chapter on “The Changing Face of Scholarly Publishing.” He argues among other things that the importance of European refugees to American art history has been overstated:

[This] argument does not acknowledge that much of the art history of the German-speaking nations was already somewhat familiar to U.S. scholars in the 1930s … In addition, U.S. art historians sometimes challenged the ideas of European scholars … free from the petty scholarly politics and national biases that had been plaguing some of the Europeans’ scholarship.

Of course, American art historians enjoyed their own kind of national pride and played their own kind of politics:

On April 7, 1936, a letter was submitted to the CAA board of directors by sixteen members, including Helen M. Franc, Meiss, and Meyer Schapiro, as well as two editorial board members, Cook and Dinsmoor. Among their varied concerns, they stated that given Art Bulletin was “the only scholarly art periodical in America … it would only be fair to restrict the articles … to the work of American scholars” … [They proposed] that articles by foreigners be limited in number to those who were affiliated with United States institutions or were truly exceptional.

Houser also notes that many early Art Bulletin board members “used their position with the journal as a means to advance their careers” and their favorite subject matter. An interesting table tracks the topics of Art Bulletin articles from 1919 to 1944, during which time a total of zero articles tackled African art, Egyptian art, Ancient Near Eastern Art, Native American Art, Ocean/Australian art, Outsider/Folk Art, Pre-Columbian Art, or Prehistoric art. By contrast, ninety-nine articles treated Early Medieval/Romanesque/Gothic art, and sixty-one Renaissance art. No other topic even came close.

For those of you looking to advance your own career in Art Bulletin, note that it has been accepting just 20-25% of submissions since 1980, but that now is a comparatively good time to try to break in — the annual volume of submissions in recent years is about 10% lower than it was in the 1990s.

Meanwhile, Stanley Fish laments “Oct. 1, when George M. Philip, president of SUNY Albany, announced that the French, Italian, classics, Russian and theater programs were getting the axe”:

What, then, can be done? … What can you say to the tax-payer who asks, “What good does a program in Byzantine art do me?” Nothing. … The only thing that might fly — and I’m hardly optimistic — is politics, by which I mean the political efforts of senior academic administrators to explain and defend the core enterprise to those constituencies — legislatures, boards of trustees, alumni, parents and others — that have either let bad educational things happen or have actively connived in them.

In the UK, according to Times Higher Education, a new government report is recommending “Public investment to be targeted at clinical medicine, nursing, science, technology and modern languages” and “The government to be given scope to withdraw public funding from all but “priority” subjects, with teaching funding for the arts and humanities likely to be axed.”

What else has changed since 2006 that we should keep in mind when reading the NRC report? I’d love to hear from readers.

1. The simple act of publishing this data provides more public information than was available before. Who could have known anything about the average time to degree at 50 different programs, before this was published? To the criticism that the data is old, I would respond: old data is an improvement over no data at all.

2. The mere existence of these rankings provides an active incentive to improve upon them. Any department that feels itself to be unfairly disadvantaged by some misleading aspect of the rankings has the tools and the motivation to make its case. This will allow a healthy debate to flourish. So long as these rankings didn’t exist, it was possible to avoid bringing up the issue; now the debate must be joined.

3. While it may be the case that not providing an absolute ranking is a cop-out, I would argue that different constituencies will have legitimately different interests in evaluating a program, and with modern computing technology, it will be very easy to plug in only the factors that matter to each constituency. For example, deans may be fixated on publications, citations and grants, whereas prospective students may care more about the percentages of students with full support, and of Ph.D.s with academic jobs. (An excellent example is provided by the Livability Calculator of Nate Silver’s New York City neighborhood ratings; you can just focus on schools, safety and transit; or bars, green space and diversity, or whatever you like.)

4. If one prefers a set of rankings centered on faculty reputation, a great model is at hand with Brian Leiter’s Philosophical Gourmet Report (PGR), which asks specialists to evaluate lists of current faculty (without the name of the institution attached, to eliminate the “halo effect.”) These are updated every year and include rankings in specialties (i.e. metaethics, or philosophy of biology). Many humanities fields, including ours, would benefit from a ranking such as this, and it’s a shame that the PGR hasn’t been more widely imitated.

5. Even without waiting for any of the above to take place, much can be learned about different programs simply by studing the (free!) online dissertation listings at CAA.Reviews. It’s very easy to locate the relatively few programs that produce a disproportionate number of scholars in any given field. For example, in Egyptian/ancient Near Eastern art, the entire roster of dissertations in progress in 2009 were sponsored by just a few schools: Columbia, Brown, Princeton, IFA/NYU, Minnesota, Emory and Harvard – this amounts to a readymade short list for anyone curious about that area.

6. Of course, data can be misused, and on the other hand, the considered judgment of experts is quite valuable. Nonetheless, data and judgment can, should and do complement each other; they don’t need to compete with each other. If the expert judgment contradicts the data, it’s interesting to know why, and if they agree, that tends to provide mutual confirmation of the judgment and the data. All things considered, I laud the NRC for its collection and dissemination of this data.