EDUCATION

Otago Daily Times, Issue 26904, 16 October 1948, Page 9

EDUCATION

FORTNIGHTLY REVIEW

By Mentor

Whether the visitor is one of those whose artistic tastes lean towards the good, old-fashioned picture in which a tree looks like a tree, and a house has proportion and perspective, or whether one is an apostle of the “ new art,” where the work of a master looks, to the uninitiated eye, exactly like the primitive schematic efforts of a five-year-old, there will be found much to satisfy, and not a little to admire, in the work at present on display in the Children’s Centennial Art . Exhibition at the Museum “Mentor” does not profess to be a “new art” disciple, but he does have very vivid recollections of the painful subject “ drawing ” was in his own school days. Who of that generation will forget the cards portraying the outlines of a Greek vase to be copied, that were the bane of our existence? Never by any chance would the second side balance the first. The constant use of a rubber, plus the imposition of innumerable greasy fingerprints, made the final achievement a piece of work that was neither of beauty nor “ a joy forever.” Readers wfll recall the limits of their efforts in colour —those much conventionalised patterns of flowers, etc., which went under the name of brushwork. They will remember the painful process of learning the various “ strokes,” leading all too often to “ strokes ” of a very different kind. With all that in mind, visitors of an older generation must get a thrill out of the work to be seen at the Museum. They cannot fail to admire the colour, the imaginative quality, and the power of expression. They must be struck, too, by the progressive development of technique as the pupil grows older. The child of 14 who has drawn a figure with one leg three times as long as the other and an ear larger than the rest of the head, does not attempt to justify his effort by explaining that he has drawn “an inner meaning,” or that he has made an effort to “ interpret the .soul . ” of his subject. He freely admits that his drawing is “ rotten,” and scraps it forthwith. It is interesting, however, to note some of the efforts in abstract design, where the imagination can find scope for freedom without let or hindrance. Altogether the exhibition is a most satisfying one that will be a revelation to many of the older members of the community.

A correspondent from Invercargill has forwarded an account of an address given in that city by Dr R. R. Nimmo on university comparisons. His thesis is that British universities are more exclusive than New Zealand ones,' and that in New Zealand many students are admitted who are not suited to university work. He quoted figures which indicated that in Great Britain 1 person in 1000 goes to university. In California the proportion is 1 in 350, and in New Zealand it is 1 in 250. At the same time, we have local university professors complaining about the low quality of work done by some of their students, and suggesting that the standard of entrance is too low. The question of standard of entrance is surely one that is in the hands of the university authorities themselves. It does certainly look as it we let in a very high proportion. All this ties up with the declared policy of the Government, as stated in 1939 by the then Minister of Education, Mr Peter Fraser, when he said: “The Government’s objective is that every person, whatever his level of academic ability, whether he be rich or poor, whether he live in town or country, has a right, as a citizen, to a free education of the kind for which he is best fitted, and to the fullest extent of his powers.” This is a very “ Magna Carta ” of educational policy, but its value depends very much, “ Mentor ” suggests, on the accurate administration of the principle embodied in the final phrases, “for wltich he is best fitted, and to the fullest extent of his powers.” Parents do not always accept advice of experts, and it is suggested that too often too many primary pupils embark on an academic-type post-primary course, against the advice of those capable of giving advice. Perhaps Dr Nimmo may not be too far out in his suggestion that the same thing happens between the post-primary schools and the university. In these days of “free”doms, we must see that abuses are kept in control. Free medicine meant an astronomical increase in the amount of such liquids imbibed in New Zealand; free education has meant huge increases in the number of students in our post-primary schools and in our universities. In both cases control is essential. In the case of education the measuring rod for such control is to be found in the Minister’s own words, "for which he is best fitted, and to the fullest extent of his

powers.” How that measuring rod is to be. applied at the varying stages is a problem beyond “ Mentor.” Any effort to control the parent’s right of choice as to where a child should go, and what course he should take, would probably be labelled as dictatorship. Yet it seems as if, somehow, somewhere, such control is desirable.

In view of Sir Laurence Olivier’s restrictions on the age at which Shakespeare should be taught, 'the remarks of Alan Melville, one of London's foremost playwrights, must prove interesting, and are worth' requoting extensively: “My nephew is studying * Hamlet ’ at sehool; he will be all term studying it, and by the end of the term he will be so sick and tired of Elsinore that it will take years to drag the youth inside h theatre where this fellow Shakespeare’s name is on the bill. In the soliloquoy, ‘To be or not ,to be,’ there are, in his' edition,' 34 annotations. In other words, 34 tirftes in that one speech he and his miserable classmates will have to turn To the back of the book and read up what some erudite Shakespearian scholar has to say about things. If the speech is any clearer at the end, I’m as potty as Ophelia. It and all speeches like it become clear, crystal clear, when they are spoken by a magnificent actor who knows what the author was getting at and says .the lines for what they are—superb English, and not some baffling, mysterious, ' high falutin’ dead and buried lingo.” This, on top of Olivier’s statement should make the diehards who still use methods such as suggested by Melville think furiously. Many who have suffered from similar “teaching” ’would join with Olivier and Melville in a prayer that the present generation be spared the agonies of former generations. To-day, thanks to Olivier, there can be no fear that Shakespeare will be unknown, even if it were totally excluded from the schools. Olivier has seen to that. His “ Henry V ” and his “ Hamlet ” will .not be the end, and Shakespeare will be seen and heard, “spoken by a magnificent actor,” not dissected in a classroom.

Apropos of Olivier’s remarks, it is interesting to find that many people are not prepared to accept them at their face value, but ask' such questions as, “I wonder what he really meant? It is obvious that he did not mean what he actually said. He surely meant that it should not be taught in the old-fashioned way, etc., etc.” Sir Laurence is a master of the English language, a supreme master of the value and meaning of words: he is a man of high reputation, used to public utterances, and, above all, used to weighing his words in the presence of the press. It is complimentary neither to his nor to our own intelligence to read wishfully-con-ceived interpretations into his words about the teaching of Shakespeare in schools.