Critical skills

Everything is a text: Why the arts still matter

Local writer and academic Rebecca Ryall reflects on the importance and the function of studying the arts, literature and humanities amid a cultural landscape in a constant state of flux, ecological collapse, and power structures that look increasingly fragile.

What value the arts? In my family of origin, the arts and humanities were considered ‘Mickey Mouse’ subjects. I’m not sure of the reference, but the implication was clear – the important information and skills were to be found in the more relevant pursuits of science and mathematics. When I first entered tertiary education, it was to study naturopathy, and it was important for me that I was studying this field at a university, as the approach taken was scientific and the institutional setting seemed to legitimise the field of study. I spent years studying anatomy, physiology, pathology, clinical diagnosis – a rigorous and demanding program compared to that of the arts students, most of whom didn’t even sit exams. My next foray into the tertiary sector happened many years, children and life experiences later when I enrolled in an Associate Degree in Creative Writing, at the age of fortytwo. At the time, study represented a pause in my life, an opportunity to regather myself after some challenging life circumstances. I enrolled in four units, believing, as they were ‘only’ arts subjects, I could easily accommodate the demands of study in the context of my ongoing parenting and domestic commitments. What I failed to take into account were the inherent differences in knowledge integration between the arts and the sciences. Studying biochemistry years before, I could sit down for three hours of deep concentration, then close the book and return to my family life. The arts and humanities are a completely different kettle of fish. The learning here occurs laterally and infiltrates every aspect of life. Because that’s what the arts do; this is their value in the world. The arts encourage us to look at the world in different ways, acknowledge the existence and value of diverse ways of seeing and being, and accept multiplicities as a given, and all whilst stirring the dinner or driving the kids to school. My very first class was an introductory writing unit, in which I learned an important lesson. I approached the class as I meant to continue – having read all the required texts, as well as the optional ones, and come to class with annotated printouts, eager to discuss the content. The tutor asked: ‘What do we know about the author of the article? What year was it published and in what publication? What type of article is it – scholarly, editorial, opinion?’ Dutiful mature-aged student that I was, I had engaged with the content, but the frame of the information was invisible to me, at this time. I have always had an antiauthoritarian streak. Encountering the arts and humanities at uni, I began to understand the value in questioning, not just authority, but also the sources of the knowledges that both I, and the authority, draw upon in reaching our conclusions. After decades of living and unknowingly participating in social and political structures, these suddenly became visible to me. Understanding of my own context in these structures followed. Through exposure to cultural studies and Indigenous studies as part of my arts degree, I became aware of my own privilege and complicity with ongoing colonial and patriarchal systems which exclude and oppress so many. This continued exposure has fundamentally changed my understanding of myself and my place within society and our shared physical environment. Literary studies provides access to not only worlds and experiences different to our own, but also a theoretical framing through which to understand these diverse positions. One learns to be a critical reader, who pays attention to the context in which a text is produced, the position of the writer in a particular time and place, and the place from which we, as readers, receive the text, from our own individual time, place and culture. In this way, everything becomes a text for analysis – advertising, children’s books, television programs – all have arisen in a particular time and place and either subvert or contribute to norms and expectations particular to that time and place.

NORPA's latest site-specific theatre work, Love For One Night, was located at the Eltham Hotel.

Critical thinking skills gain importance, the more information we are exposed to. Everyone these days knows about ‘the algorithms’ which determine what kind of information is delivered to us through online networks. These algorithms feed us more of what we engage with, ensuring that, unmediated, we exist inside an echo chamber that reinforces our own world view. With a focus on ‘fake news’ and in an environment of 24hour news cycles in which everyone is pushing their own agenda, critical reading and thinking skills must not be undervalued. Combining the aforementioned analytical tools with practical attention to genre, technique and the craft of writing, equips a writing student with the tools to powerfully express these insights, illuminating damaging norms and structures and their potential to harm, as well as imagining or exploring alternatives to the abiding narrative. Far from being ‘Mickey Mouse’, the arts and humanities are integral to our capacity to relate to others – human and non-human – and to reach for understanding of the many different positions we take as humans. Critical and collaborative thinking skills are those which support our coming together, in societies of diverse individuals, underpinning our production of knowledge. My Associate Degree swiftly changed to become a BA, which was followed immediately by honours and flowed into my current PhD research. I feel a grudging respect from my family, working towards a doctorate. If I wasn’t engrossed in exploring the post-humanities, I might just invest my time in exploration of the heterocisnormativity of Disney films. Post-script I attended an exhibition opening in Lismore in early August. Teetering on the Edge was a group show of mixed media, hosted by the Metropole Hotel. It was a cold Wednesday night, and the pub was heaving. The artworks – diverse and striking – were hung on the walls of the public bar and dining room, requiring one to get up close and personal with the patrons in order to read the information cards. And in early September, I was fortunate to be in the audience of a sold-out performance of NORPA’s latest creation, Love For One Night, at the Eltham Hotel. This was storytelling at its best and most absorbing, a credit to the creators, designers, performers and a beautiful showcase of, not only the graceful pub, but also the lives of its myriad patrons. These events served as an illustration that, in the wake of disaster, it is the arts practitioners who remind us of our shared humanity and bring us together to explore our common experience. It was the creative types who drove the Lismore recovery from the devastating floods of 2017 and, it seems, it will be the creatives who lift us all out of the mud to rise above the disastrous events of 2022. Thank you Northern Rivers creatives, for telling our stories and giving us opportunities to connect with one another.