Critical Race Theory (CRT) originated from critical legal studies and radical feminist scholarship. It posits that race is a social construct and that society is structured through systems of racialised power. CRT prioritises the lived experiences and insights of racialised communities. It challenges the idea that racism is only found in extremist acts, instead revealing how it is integrated into everyday institutional practices (Delgado and Stefancic, 2017; Ladson-Billings, 1998; Gillborn, 2015; Lander and Santoro, 2017). Garrett (2024) further argues that CRT also shapes the work of critical geographers, who explore how racism operates across spatial and social contexts (Price, 2010).
In Racism Shapes Careers (2024), Garrett highlights the overwhelming dominance of white individuals in academia and the lack of racial diversity, especially in senior positions. There is no clear or reliable data on the employability of PhD graduates from minority backgrounds. His case study illustrates how racialised PhD candidates experience career-related stress, anxiety, and feelings of isolation—often triggered by microaggressions and differential treatment. Garrett emphasises that the absence of visible role models from minoritised backgrounds makes it difficult for emerging scholars to envision a future in academia.
This reading resonates with me personally. I have often found myself adjusting to predominantly white academic environments. However, my discomfort has not been solely due to racial difference. As a foreigner, I’ve often felt out of place when norms are shaped by any tightly knit group, whether white, Black, or otherwise, if those norms exclude or overlook my presence and perspective. That said, it is clear that whiteness remains the most privileged and institutionalised identity within these spaces.
The video on diversity training (Sadiq, 2023; Orr, 2022) raised an important point: such training often fails because it is performative and imposed, rather than engaged with meaningfully. When my colleague openly described diversity and equality training as “meaningless, dull, and fake,” it reflected a wider cultural resistance and an “allergic” reaction to confronting these issues seriously. This attitude reveals how box-ticking becomes prioritised over real change, especially in institutions like UAL. While these efforts may be superficial at times, I still see them as a step forward, particularly compared to my experience in countries like Italy, where whiteness is even more dominant and anti-racist legislation less developed.
A final thought: although research like Garrett’s advances our understanding of institutional racism and aims to push society toward equity, the broader political and social landscape often moves in the opposite direction. The backlash against diversity initiatives in the US and across Europe underscores the disconnect between academic critique and public sentiment. This gap between academia and the real world should not be dismissed.
Reference
Bradbury, A. (2020) ‘A critical race theory framework for education policy analysis: the case of bilingual learners and assessment policy in England’, Race Ethnicity and Education, 23(3), pp. 319–337. https://doi.org/10.1080/13613324.2019.1636383
Delgado, R. and Stefancic, J. (2017) Critical Race Theory: An Introduction. 3rd edn. New York: NYU Press.
Garrett, P.M. (2024) Racism Shapes Careers: A Critical Race Theory Analysis of the Social Work Profession. [PDF]
Gillborn, D. (2015) ‘Intersectionality, critical race theory, and the primacy of racism: Race, class, gender, and disability in education’, Qualitative Inquiry, 21(3), pp. 277–287. https://doi.org/10.1177/1077800414557827
Ladson-Billings, G. (1998) ‘Just what is critical race theory and what’s it doing in a nice field like education?’, International Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education, 11(1), pp. 7–24. https://doi.org/10.1080/095183998236863
Lander, V. and Santoro, N. (2017) ‘Invisible and hypervisible academics: the experiences of Black and minority ethnic teacher educators’, Teaching in Higher Education, 22(8), pp. 1008–1021. https://doi.org/10.1080/13562517.2017.1332029
Price, M. (2010) ‘At the crossroads: Critical race theory and critical geographies of race’, Progress in Human Geography, 34(2), pp. 147–174. https://doi.org/10.1177/0309132509339005
Following the completion of my MA in Performance: Design and Practice at Central Saint Martins in September 2022, I began working as a Graduate Teaching Assistant (GTA) for the course. Since 2024, I have continued in a dual role as Visiting Practitioner and Academic Support Tutor, while also serving as Project Coordinator within the Performance programme. My teaching is embedded in the very postgraduate course I once studied, offering a uniquely situated pedagogical perspective shaped by both lived experience and practice-based knowledge (hooks, 1994; Singh, 2018).
As a Visiting Practitioner, I lead the Live Art Practice seminar, a five-week series delivered during Unit 2, bridging the end of Year 1 and the beginning of Year 2. Grounded in my artistic research and professional experience, the seminar explores themes in live art, performance, and critical theory. It marks my first formal academic teaching responsibility, and over the past year, I have actively reflected on ways to strengthen its inclusivity and alignment with decolonial pedagogical practices (Advance HE, 2021; Thomas and May, 2010).
This report focuses on inclusive learning, with particular attention to decolonising the curriculum within the context of MA Performance: Design and Practice and my Live Art Practice seminar. Alongside identifying current challenges, I draw upon my personal experience as both a former international student and an early-career academic. This reflective approach follows Gibbs’ Reflective Cycle (Gibbs, 1988), which supports critical analysis of experience, feelings, evaluation, and planning for change.
The intervention proposed here aims to better align the seminar with UAL’s institutional strategies for inclusive and decolonial teaching (UAL, 2023). As a Japanese, Asian woman, artist, former international student, and sociologically trained practitioner, I bring a complex positionality to my teaching. This perspective enables me to engage deeply with questions of representation, cultural bias, and misrecognition in UK higher education. Drawing from these experiences, I am well positioned to contribute to the development of a more inclusive and decolonial curriculum.
Literature
Thomas and May (2010, p.5) argue that inclusive practice is central to achieving educational equity, enabling “all students to engage fully with their HE learning experience and maximise their personal, economic and social outcomes as graduates.” This shifts the focus from targeted support for “underrepresented” groups to embedding equity into the core functions of the institution (May and Bridger, 2010, p.6).
An inclusive curriculum must be relevant, accessible, and engaging to all learners, regardless of background or identity (Thomas and May, 2010, p.7). This view is supported by UAL (2025), which positions equality and inclusion as both a legal obligation and a core institutional value.
My intervention draws on the four dimensions of inclusive higher education teaching outlined by Hockings (2010): curriculum design, curriculum delivery, assessment, and institutional commitment. I focus primarily on the first two.
Drawing on Bengtsen and Barnett’s (2017) notion of the intercultural curriculum, I propose that teaching should actively draw value from diverse learner experiences while challenging dominant Western frameworks. The intercultural curriculum is not a checklist of global references but a dynamic space shaped by the teacher’s positionality. My own identity offers a critical lens through which to co-create knowledge with students. This is particularly relevant in performance education, where identity and cultural context are integral to practice.
Decolonising the Curriculum
Singh (2018) argues that decolonisation must confront not only the material violence of empire but also its symbolic and epistemic legacies. In higher education, this means questioning how knowledge is produced and legitimised—and resisting the assumption of Western superiority in theory and practice.
Reflecting on my own teaching, I’ve come to recognise how core reading lists and artist references remain dominated by Western perspectives. I once believed this canon was essential for international students to learn, but student feedback and reflection have shown that engagement increases when practices from their own cultural contexts are acknowledged and valued.
Decolonial discourse in UK higher education has, understandably, centred Afro-Caribbean and African diasporic experience. However, this focus often sidelines Asian perspectives. Kuan-Hsing Chen (2010) challenges both Eurocentric and Sinocentric paradigms, proposing a de-imperial framework that foregrounds the specificities of Asian postcolonial experience. His work informs my approach to teaching, offering a plural and inter-referential way of making knowledge that resists imperial hierarchies and fosters deeper cultural exchange.
Current Challenges
Since the 2021–22 academic year, the student demographics in MA Performance: Design and Practice have shifted significantly, largely due to changes in tuition fee status for EU students. This has led to a sharp rise in international enrolments, who now make up the majority in the classroom. In 2023, the cohort was nearly evenly split between Home and International students, but projections for the class of 2026 show a marked domination in international representation.
*Demography of students MA Performance: Design and Practice
This shift has significantly altered the classroom dynamic, affecting both students and staff. Performance-making is inherently process-based and culturally embedded, involving language, collaboration, and gesture. In recent years, I’ve noticed more performances developed entirely in non-English languages, particularly Mandarin. These shifts have made it harder for academic and technical staff to follow creative processes and provide informed feedback.
I have also observed instances where critique is reduced to vague cultural labels—such as describing work as “sounding Asian” or “feeling Chinese/Japanese.” These oversimplifications dismiss the complexity of students’ practices and reflect a limited understanding of cultural nuance in a global learning environment.
UAL’s (2025) equality, diversity, and inclusion statements focus largely on meeting legal duties for Home students. While important, this emphasis often overlooks the realities of an increasingly international student body. Many international students, often also students of colour, find themselves navigating a curriculum and institutional culture that fails to reflect their lived experiences.
As Duna Sabri (2024) notes in Decolonising the Arts Curriculum, international students often come to the UK to explore how their cultural identities intersect with global artistic practices—not to assimilate into Euro-American norms. Most graduates will go on to work internationally, yet some staff still assume students are here primarily to learn about British culture. This disconnect between institutional assumptions and student aspirations reflects Sabri’s findings and resonates with my own experience as both a former international student and current educator.
This also highlights the racial imbalance within the Performance department, where the majority of permanent staff and all management roles are dominated by white individuals. This is not unique to this department as this reflects a wider trend in UK higher education, where professors remain predominantly white (Advance HE, 2022).
As a former student
I also experienced discomfort when my work was interpreted through reductive cultural assumptions—such as when the quiet or subtle nature of my performance was attributed to me being Japanese. Similar assumptions were made about other Asian students. These experiences revealed how monocultural pedagogical approaches can unintentionally marginalise students.
Through the PgCert, I recognised how inclusive practice can address such dynamics by supporting all students and staff to engage fully without structural or cultural barriers (May and Bridger, 2010). It also reaffirmed the importance of challenging dominant norms and expanding the scope of knowledge in the curriculum.
Peer Feedback
Peers responded positively to my intervention focused on decolonising the Live Art Practice seminar. They encouraged me to go beyond students’ personal heritage and incorporate live art from multiple cultural and theoretical perspectives to avoid essentialism. While including industry-standard references is important, offering diverse examples was seen as essential for supporting students to develop their critical voice. As Thomas and May (2010) argue, inclusive teaching fosters equitable learning by addressing barriers to engagement.
A key challenge is avoiding tokenism and not singling out specific groups. The aim is to expand access and perspectives by recognising diverse ways of thinking and making.
Action Plan and Evaluation
My proposed intervention is a collaborative rewriting of RoseLee Goldberg’s foundational text on performance art, to be carried out with students in the Live Art Practice seminar. This intervention invites students to critically examine dominant narratives and challenge the Western-centric canon of performance history.
Building on previous seminar sessions that explore fundamental questions, this session will be introduced as part of the existing learning stream. The seminar series runs over four weeks during the autumn term, and I plan to dedicate one of these sessions to this intervention while maintaining alignment with the core content of Live Art.
In practice, I will provide students with printed excerpts from Goldberg’s text. Students will be asked to read the text with a critical eye and respond as if they were part of an editorial board revising it for greater inclusivity. They will consider not only what is written and who is represented, but also how the narrative might be reframed to acknowledge other histories, practices, and geographies. The session encourages them to deconstruct Western-centred assumptions while also analysing their own positionality as artists and cultural practitioners.
As part of this intervention, I also plan to revise the seminar description to more explicitly reflect its inclusive and decolonial pedagogical aims. The original description is as follows:
Live Art Practice Seminar provides students with the opportunity to explore Live Art through its history, key terms, concepts, and key artists. Students will enhance their critical skills by interrogating the works of significant artists as well as their own creations.
I propose adding the following line:
Students will critically evaluate the context and positionality of their work and identity as artist through engagement with the histories and current structures of the creative arts landscape.
This intervention depends on active student engagement. My role is to curate the materials, facilitate the discussion, and respond dynamically to the ideas that emerge. To support this, I will maintain a shared Padlet page for the seminar, where I can update references, share student insights, and collaboratively build a more inclusive resource list.
It encourages me to shift from a content-delivery model to a co-learning approach that values student identity as well as challenges them to rethink dominant narratives. This will also help me to challenge and strategise my own practice in education and art practice. The outcome might not be visible immediately. I hope this practice contributes to a gradual transformation of the programme culture.
Bengtsen, S. and Barnett, R. (2017) ‘The Thinking University: A Philosophical Examination of Thought and Higher Education’, in Higher Education Research & Development, 36(1), pp. 1–13. DOI: 10.1080/07294360.2017.1286361.
Chen, K.-H. (2010) Asia as Method: Toward Deimperialization. Durham: Duke University Press.
Gibbs, G. (1988) Learning by Doing: A Guide to Teaching and Learning Methods. Oxford: Oxford Polytechnic.
Hooks, b. (1994) Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. New York: Routledge.
I currently work as a Visiting Practitioner for the MA Performance: Design and Practice as well as an Academic Support Tutor across the Performance programme. This intervention plan is based on Live Art Practice Seminar, which I have led as part of the MA P:DP. The seminar is currently on pause, but I am proposing a revised and critically informed structure for its potential restart in September 2025.
Background:
Live Art Practice Seminar provides students with the opportunity to explore Live Art through its history, key terms, concepts, and influential artists. Students will enhance their critical skills by interrogating the works of significant artists as well as their own creations.
Challenge:
In addressing the history of Live Art and Performance Art, I have frequently drawn on Performance Art: From Futurism to the Present by RoseLee Goldberg, a foundational text by one of the most prominent American art historians in this field. While the book offers a well-informed and comprehensive overview of significant artists and movements, its perspective remains largely Euro-American. I recognise that this framing can inadvertently marginalise alternative histories, particularly those from non-Western contexts.
This presents an ongoing challenge. As international artists and educators working within predominantly Western institutions and economies, we are constantly navigating questions of positionality. How can we critically engage with the systems we are part of while remaining attentive to their exclusions? What responsibilities do we have in broadening the canon, and how do we model this for our students?
This reflection becomes even more pertinent given the demographic of the seminar group, where approximately 80% of the students identify as East Asian. The group is also diverse in terms of disciplinary background and artistic interests. This raises important pedagogical questions: What should be taught in a Live Art seminar in a globalised, multicultural educational setting? How can we create space for students to critically examine their own positionalities while challenging the dominance of Western narratives in contemporary art discourse?
Potential Intervention Plan:
Diverse teaching materials – Rather than relying solely on canonical performance art histories, I intend to introduce a wider range of inclusive and globally diverse references. The seminar will prioritise a discussion-based format over traditional lecture delivery, allowing students to critically engage with the material through dialogue.
To support students in critically examining their own positions as artists, I have already embedded a workshop focused on self-reflection and artistic identity. While participation is not framed around cultural self-disclosure, I am considering an additional workshop that more explicitly explores identity through the lens of intersectionality. It draws on case studies of artists whose practices reflect layered identities and social positions, offering students tools to reflect on how their own contexts inform their work.
When I first encountered the terms faith, religion, and personal belief, I found them quite alienating. These concepts had always felt distant from my everyday experience. Growing up in a non-religious environment, surrounded by people who shared similar beliefs—or rather, a shared absence of belief—religion never became a central concern in my thinking.
However, moving to the UK and becoming part of a minoritised group, often categorised as “non-white,” I began to realise that, even if I did not seek to differentiate myself from others, others would inevitably differentiate me—based on my facial features, accent, and appearance. I became aware of how being marked as different shapes everyday interactions, and how these subtle but persistent experiences of “othering” can accumulate.
This has helped me better understand the challenges faced by Muslim women who wear the hijab. Reading Ramadan’s (2022) study on Muslim women in academia, I gained insight into how the intersection of religion, gender, and cultural identity can pose significant barriers to career progression. These women often navigate stereotypes, Islamophobia, and even lack of support from within their own communities. This resonates strongly with Kimberlé Crenshaw’s (1991) theory of intersectionality, which explains how multiple identities—such as race, gender, and faith—interact with systemic structures of power and discrimination.
To further analyse these dynamics, I find Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of capital useful. His framework offers a way to evaluate the forms of capital—economic, cultural, and social—that individuals possess and how these influence their position in the field. (1986) While many of us, including these Muslim women and I, may hold certain privileges (for example, economic or cultural capital), acknowledging this shouldn’t end the conversation. Instead, it can be a point of departure for challenging dominant structures. Bourdieu’s idea of the avant-garde—the push to disrupt established norms and create space for new values—feels particularly relevant here.
Among the readings, I found Wong et al. (2020) especially thought-provoking. They categorise student responses to racism into three discourses:
The Naïve – Those who do not acknowledge the existence of racism and often believe that meritocracy is real and sufficient.
The Bystander – Those who recognise racism but avoid engagement, either from discomfort or fear of involvement.
The Victim – Those who experience racism firsthand but may normalise or internalise these encounters.
These categories helped me reflect on my own position. As a non-white and foreign person in the UK, I have encountered frequent microaggressions. Sometimes I find myself in the “Victim” category, experiencing racialised assumptions or dismissive behaviour. Yet I also identify with the “Bystander” role—too exhausted or preoccupied to address every incident. One colleague remarked during a PgCert session that constantly correcting or educating others is tiring. I couldn’t agree more.
Wong’s framework intersects meaningfully with Crenshaw’s intersectionality: individuals may shift between these categories depending on context and situation. It also prompts me to reflect on my own positionality as a Japanese person in the UK. While I fall under the BAME umbrella, I am aware of how Japanese identity is often perceived globally as a form of privilege—rooted in Japan’s imperial history and economy. Yet, in the UK, I am largely perceived as just “Asian,” and face the same stereotyping often applied to East Asians: polite, reserved, foreign. This blurring of nuance is itself a form of erasure.
As for what I can do in the classroom, I am still uncertain. But I recognise the importance of planning for intervention. Even small, intentional actions can begin to address these issues, as Simran Jeet Singh described. (Trinity University, 2016) Understanding my own position—its complexities and contradictions—is a necessary first step.
Bourdieu, P., 1986. The forms of capital. In: J.G. Richardson, ed., Handbook of Theory and Research for the Sociology of Education. New York: Greenwood, pp.241–258.
Crenshaw, K., 1991. Mapping the margins: Intersectionality, identity politics, and violence against women of color. Stanford Law Review, 43(6), pp.1241–1299.
Ramadan, I., 2022. When faith intersects with gender: The challenges and successes in the experiences of Muslim women academics. Gender and Education, 34(1), pp.33–48. https://doi.org/10.1080/09540253.2021.1893664
Trinity University. (2016) Challenging Race, Religion, and Stereotypes in the Classroom. YouTube video, added 6 December 2016. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0CAOKTo_DOk
Wong, B., Elmorally, R., Copsey-Blake, M., Highwood, E. and Singarayer, J., 2021. Is race still relevant? Student perceptions and experiences of racism in higher education. Cambridge Journal of Education, 51(3), pp.359–375. https://doi.org/10.1080/0305764X.2020.1831441
After watching the four videos, I was inspired by how the individuals used their disabilities to inspire others, redefining their identities in opposition to society’s narrow definitions of disability.
The term “disability” implies that those with it are “not able,” often measured against a perceived standard of physical, sensory, or cognitive ability. It’s typically framed as a lack or deficit compared to what’s considered normal human capability. What stood out to me was the idea that disability is not solely about physical or mental difference—it is largely the result of social barriers. *1 Many buildings, for example, are designed based on the needs of able-bodied people, turning everyday environments into obstacles for others.
In the interview on Race and Disability, the Paralympian, Ade Adepitan states:
“What makes people disabled is not disability, but society itself. It’s systemic discrimination and oppression that hold disabled people back.” *2
This really struck me. The real challenge is not the disability itself, but how society creates additional limitations through inaccessible systems and infrastructure. The athlete emphasised that with the right equipment and support, disabled people have the ability to thrive. *2 I was especially moved by how everyone in the videos appeared highly autonomous—transforming their challenges into strengths, both for themselves and for society.
Lastly, the interview touched on opportunistic discrimination—the idea that opportunities should be equally available to all, regardless of skin colour or disability. This could lead into a larger philosophical discussion: what does “ability” really mean? This notion connects with the Equality Act 2010, which advocates for equal opportunity for everyone.
I was particularly drawn to artist Christine Sun Kim’s approach to her practice. *3 As a deaf artist, she incorporates her lived experience and sign language into her work, transforming patterns of communication into visual art. To me, her lack of hearing is not a limitation but a strength that defines the uniqueness of her art, I would call it her ability of non-heaering. As a viewer, I find her work deeply intriguing—not out of sympathy, but out of genuine artistic appreciation of unique perspectives. Like many others, she transforms what is conventionally seen as a “disability” into a powerful creative tool.
These videos reminded me of my own experiences at art university. There are two main reflections I want to share.
First, the recognition of disability. While visible disabilities—such as deafness or physical impairments—are more widely acknowledged,invisible disabilities, like neurodivergence, are often overlooked. For example, in Japan, where I’m from, ADHD is not always recognised as a disability and is often misunderstood. These are hardly diagnosed and not widely spread as official disability. Knowing and acknowledging your disability seems a privilege for many. At least people like I am from non-western countries.
Second, I want to reflect on the challenges of collaborative practice. I’ve had several group projects with people diagnosed with ADHD, especially during university assessments. One particular student had self-diagnosed ADHD and was very controlling, often crying when things didn’t go her way. This left the rest of the group feeling confused and frustrated. Eventually, we decided to work separately. I think this kind of issue is especially prevalent in theatre, where production environments are technical, time-sensitive, and physically limited. How other people work with those who has disability is a question.
*1 University of the Arts London. (2018) The Social Model of Disability at UAL. [YouTube video] 2 April. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNdnjmcrzgw (Accessed: 25 April 2025).
*2 BBC Stories. (2019) The truth about being disabled and black. [YouTube video] 11 July. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAsxndpgagU (Accessed: 25 April 2025).
*3 Channel 4. (2016) “What makes you disabled?” | Paralympics with a difference | Channel 4. [YouTube video] 5 September. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NpRaEDlLsI (Accessed: 25 April 2025).
Contextual Background (c. 50 words): I began working as a Graduate Teaching Assistant (GTA) 2.5 years ago in the MA Performance and Practice course. After one year as a GTA, I transitioned to the role of Visiting Practitioner (VP). Despite this change, I have continued to handle student communication, including tasks such as room bookings, tutorials, event organisation, and liaising between students and technicians.
Evaluation (c. 100 words): Most of the emails I send and receive from students involve class announcements, guest passes, timetables, room bookings, and event scheduling. While Moodle announcements are the university’s preferred communication tool, I noticed that students often overlook important emails. To address this, I adopted a hybrid communication system, sending important announcements via both email and a WhatsApp group chat. I also use WhatsApp reminders, which, although informal, have proven effective for both students and staff. This approach suits the relaxed communication style of the course and the frequent schedule changes typical of a performance course. This also works with the size of our group which is under 30. However, a challenge is that students often message me directly on WhatsApp, leading to a high volume of messages.
Moving Forward (c. 350 words): Handling all student inquiries efficiently has been a challenge. While the journal article ‘The Design Critique and the Moral Goods of Studio Pedagogy’ (McDonald and Michela, 2019) focuses on feedback approaches, some of its case studies offer insights relevant to my situation. As a young tutor, I initially felt insecure when students did not respond to me promptly. However, as my responsibilities have grown, I have realised the need to shift from a proactive to a more passive approach. Instead of managing every task, I will focus on solving specific student problems and delegate administrative tasks, such as guest passes and room bookings, to the course administrator.
To ensure smooth collaboration with the course administrator, I will establish a clear communication structure for students and step in only when necessary. This will allow me to focus on my core responsibilities while ensuring students receive the support they need.
Regarding WhatsApp messages, I have learned that it is acceptable to ignore non-urgent messages when necessary. As a practical solution, I will hide my online status so students cannot see whether I have read their messages. This will help me manage my time more effectively. Additionally, I will work on overcoming my initial insecurity as a tutor and set clearer boundaries with students. This does not mean neglecting their needs but rather distributing communication responsibilities among staff members to ensure a balanced workload.
By implementing these changes, I aim to create a more structured and efficient communication system that benefits both students and staff. This approach will allow me to focus on my teaching responsibilities while ensuring students receive timely and effective support.
References (additional to word count): McDonald, J.K. and Michela, E. (2019) ‘The design critique and the moral goods of studio pedagogy’, Design Studies, 62, pp. 1–35. doi:10.1016/j.destud.2019.02.001.
I organised the How to Write an Artist Statement workshop as part of my academic support role. Since I work across courses in the performance department, I offered this workshop for MA Performance: Screen students as part of their major project, which prepares them for professional careers. It was their first structured workshop on this topic and was conducted in person and online over two hours.
Evaluation (c.100 words):
As this session was part of a peer observation exercise, I would like to incorporate some of the feedback I received. One key strength of the workshop was its practical focus. As second-year MA students must write artist statements after graduation, we prioritised generating content over theoretical discussions. Additionally, I structured the workshop as a hybrid session to enhance accessibility. While I typically avoid recording sessions for privacy reasons, the live online and in-person formats helped increase attendance.
One challenge was managing group work, as it sometimes disrupted the workshop’s rhythm. However, I intentionally paired participants so they could generate material by interviewing one another about their artistic practices. While the session leaned more towards professional development than creative practice, I was able to incorporate my performance skills into the workshop structure.
Moving Forwards (c.350 words):
Managing a hybrid workshop was challenging, particularly in balancing in-person and online engagement. At times, I unintentionally overlooked online participants or missed messages in the chat. Additionally, the class structure required different exercises for online and in-person students, which led to uneven outcomes. For example, when asking students to interview each other about their artistic practice and interests, in-person participants could easily pair up, whereas forming pairs online proved difficult to coordinate. While technically feasible, handling multiple logistical aspects simultaneously was not ideal. As a result, I asked online students to complete the task individually instead. In future sessions, I will explore better strategies to ensure both online and in-person students can fully participate.
Another area for improvement lies in the workshop content itself. Observer feedback highlighted that some concepts should have been explained in greater depth—for example, the nuanced differences between terms like interdisciplinary and multidisciplinary art. To address this, I plan to conduct further research and prepare more comprehensive explanations. I may also consult other art practitioners to gather additional insights.
Overall, if given the opportunity to run similar workshops in the future, I would continue using the hybrid format while proactively addressing potential challenges in advance.
References (additional to word count):
O’Byrne, W.I. and Pytash, K.E. (2015) ‘Hybrid and blended learning: Modifying pedagogy across path, pace, time, and place’, Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 59(2), pp. 137–140. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1002/jaal.463
Contextual Background (c. 50 words): As a visiting practitioner, I do not assess students. In this case study, I evaluate my one-to-one tutorials with second-year MA Performance & Design students. They are working towards their final projects and have completed an interim performance show called Scratch performance. The Unit 2 assessment involves a reflective journal documenting the development process of their work. While I have not read any of the written assessments, I have watched all 25 students’ shows.
Evaluation (c. 100 words): Evaluation is conducted through verbal feedback in person. I often use sketches and engage in brainstorming sessions with students to discuss strategies for their next steps. Meeting students face-to-face works well, as it allows for nuanced communication. I frequently ask students to share their sketches and inspirations as part of the brainstorming process. I focus on understanding what they feel passionate about, rather than solely focusing on the theories they are engaging with.
However, a limitation is that my feedback is based solely on what I observe during the performance. It is not my responsibility to read their written assessments, but this sometimes makes it difficult to provide comprehensive suggestions. For example, I once encountered a student whose work I did not find engaging, despite knowing it was based on an established dance method. Without understanding their research, I could only offer honest feedback based on my observations, which the student seemed to find offensive.
Moving Forward (c. 350 words): I believe that assessment—or even feedback in my case—should evaluate multiple aspects holistically, rather than solely focusing on learning outcomes (O’Reilly, 2023). During a workshop discussion, I sought advice on how to provide feedback on work I did not find compelling. A peer suggested that it is important to review the student’s research process and evaluate their work holistically. This aligns with O’Reilly’s perspective in the journal, which emphasises the importance of understanding the broader context of a student’s work.
Moving forward, I plan to read students’ research journals when providing feedback, particularly for works that I find challenging to engage with. This will allow me to offer more informed and constructive comments. However, I also believe that honest feedback is essential. While I will not shy away from sharing my subjective impressions of a student’s work, I will ensure that my comments are balanced and considerate. As a qualified practitioner, I believe it is important to provide candid feedback, even if it may not always be well-received.
At the same time, I will encourage students to seek opinions from other practitioners and lecturers. When I was a student, I found this approach helpful, especially when receiving harsh but constructive criticism from my tutors. By fostering a culture of diverse feedback, students can gain a more rounded perspective on their work and develop resilience in responding to critique.
References (additional to word count): O’Reilly, J. (2023) ‘“See you on the other side”: Researcher identity, threshold concepts and making a ritual of confirmation’, Spark: UAL Creative Teaching and Learning Journal, 6(1), pp. 10–22.
I studied for a Bachelor of Arts in Japan and a Master of Arts in the UK. I also spent a year as an exchange student at the University of Manchester.
During my undergraduate studies in both Japan and the UK, I was given a large number of readings, lectures, and assignments. The marking was brutal, as it directly impacted future opportunities, such as studying abroad or securing scholarships. To achieve higher marks, I had to study hard and seek advice from tutors and professors. Everyone understood that we were in a university setting where grades carried significant weight. However, this was higher education in social sciences—not fine arts.
In contrast, passing a master’s degree—especially in art studies—seems much easier. What truly matters is NOT how engaged you are in your studies but how well you can connect your study experiences to your future career. In my experience, the vocational aspect of art education is quite strong.
Central Saint Martins holds significant global prestige, which naturally attracts students. The institution heavily relies on international students due to their high tuition fees. While the university presents various strategies (UAL, 2022), these often appear to serve bureaucratic purposes—mainly to secure funding. Ultimately, the institution is deeply tied to the capitalistic and economic structures of the country.
Despite its ability to attract students, there is no real safety net for artists after graduation in the UK. The cost of living in London continues to rise, making it extremely difficult to sustain a career as an artist. Of course, not everyone can—or should—become a professional artist or designer. However, countries like the Netherlands (with the Mondriaan Fund) and Finland (through The Arts Promotion Centre Finland, Taike) have schemes to support freelance artists. Although the UK has Arts Council England (ACE), it does not fully accommodate the needs of individual artists or the scale of demand.
That said, one criticism of such support systems is that they do not necessarily produce better work. Some argue that artists working under these structures tend to create more mediocre art due to the security provided. Additionally, the sustainability of these government support systems remains uncertain, given the unpredictable global economic climate.
There is no doubt that universities operate as businesses—this is undeniable. However, individual tutors often place great value on higher education, beyond the institution itself. As Grayson Perry says successful artists are not necessarily those who are frequently referenced by others, but those who develop a strong internal reference system understanding their sensitivities and feelings. (Alexander and Meara, 2022). While universities emphasise visibility and employability, it is equally important to maintain a critical, provocative, and challenging identity—just as institutions themselves should.
Alexander, L. and Meara, T. (2022) Central Saint Martins Foundation: Key Lessons in Art and Design. London: Thames & Hudson.
These are personal reflections on teaching as part of my artistic practice. I will raise questions and explore them accordingly.
Can non-artists teach artists?
One of my best educational experiences came from a professor of social science. Equally, I’ve learned a lot from farmers, elementary school teachers, and my grandmother! My background is in social science, and ideally, I would like to incorporate different areas of expertise into my pedagogy in higher education of art.
Art theory books are not necessarily ideal for artists to study. In my opinion, they are written for art historians, curators, and academics—not for practitioners—because they often suggest what is “right” rather than allowing for exploration. Instead, I would recommend reading philosophy books, art history books, novels, and academic journals from other disciplines.
Can artists teach artists?
As a Visiting Practitioner, I assisted the Site-Specific Project led by AL and artist Geraldine Pilgrim. Here’s what I learned from her:
She doesn’t compromise on details. She shows commitment, works long hours, and takes her practice seriously. Sometimes she is quite strict, but students follow and understands the moral code.
Adapting to students’ needs isn’t always beneficial. It’s important to clarify priorities and set clear expectations.
Sometimes she exposes students to her artistic ideals. A very established artist might be in a position to do so. long hours of waiting and physical labor can be exhausting for both students and assistants and lose momentum for learning rhymes.
Not managing emotions well is not ideal in an (contemporary) educational setting.
What can artists teach in universities?
As seen in Geraldine’s project, she teaches what she specialises in—site-specific work—by sharing her skills, knowledge, and methods. Similarly, many workshops in art galleries, such as those at Tate Modern, often feature artists leading sessions. https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/an-introduction-to-collage
But what distinguishes higher education pedagogy from this? Should it be different? Learning Outcomes (LOs) make things different? I don’t have a definite answer as it likely varies across institutions and individual’s skill set. So far, Joseph Beys is my leading model. I would like to discover more on this.
Can artists work with their students?
As an artist, I sometimes struggle with this dilemma. I once made the mistake (?) of involving a student in my work, only to be accused of exploiting the student—even though that was never my intention. The answer to this question is unclear. Perhaps the safest approach is to avoid involving students in personal projects altogether. Alternatively, could I frame a project as a collaborative workshop instead? I need to research this further by speaking with other artist-educators.
How to avoid becoming a slave of students?
Supporting students is energy-consuming, especially when combined with administrative responsibilities. At this stage of my career, balancing these demands is challenging—I need to perform well, but I also need to protect time for my own practice and earn enough to survive in London. Setting boundaries with students is often the topic. Since they pay high tuition fees, their expectations are often high—and criticism can be brutal if they feel unsatisfied.
Tate (2024). An Introduction to Collage | Tate Modern. [online] Tate. Available at: https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern/an-introduction-to-collage [Accessed 17 Mar. 2025].