One other aspect of this is whether a good design process can be
taught or whether one has to be born knowing how to do it.
It’s an important question if you (like me) aren’t one of the people
who can’t come up with new designs very quickly.
But I’m still a novice at making jewelry, so I don’t expect to be
able to at this point in my learning curve.
Thinking about this led me to think about the nature of teachable
skills. What makes a skill teachable? What can a teacher or student
do to improve the teachability of a skill?
After reviewing my life experiences at both teaching and learning,
I’ve decided that skills can be divided into three categories,
Teachable, Learnable and Discoverable. It is important to understand
which category a given skill is truly in because it governs how you
approach teaching it.
Given unlimited time and unlimited resources, one could argue that
all skills are teachable. It’s a moot point, because no one has
unlimited time and resources. One needs to make that determination
with a reasonable or customary amount of time and resources available
for instruction.
Teachable
A skill is Teachable if the instruction can be organized so that an
average and willing student has a 98% chance of learning it in a
reasonable or customary amount of time.
Learnable
A Learnable skill is not teachable. You can teach a student the
on how to learn the skill, but you cannot teach them the
skill. This is because a learnable skill requires a large amount of
independent action on the part of the student. You can teach them
what that action needs to be, you can teach them how to perform that
action and where and when to do so. But they have to do it, on their
own and with great regularity, which is something out of your
control.
Discoverable
A Discoverable skill requires an “Aha!” moment that arises when the
student is able to make the connections between disparate facts and
circumstances and truly understand the lesson. You can organize your
teaching so that the student circles around the topic, you can tell
them what to do and how to do it, but the student must make that
internal “Aha!” connection on their own.
So, how about some examples?!
Let’s take the example of “How to silver solder.” An instructor can
explain the scientific facts that are important to know about
soldering, the process of soldering and devise a set of exercises
for the student to perform the task of silver soldering. At the end
of the exercises, over a four to sixteen contact hour course, a
typical willing student can be expected to be able to silver solder
with a reasonable degree of proficiency. They will still have trouble
with tricky situations, but they will be able to solder many joints
just fine. They will benefit from additional practice, but that is
immaterial to the discussion. This is a predictably teachable skill.
Let’s take the example of “Build a mental and physical collection of
easily recallable and reusable design elements from (very) many
current and historical cultures around the world.” An instructor can
give them the task, teach them how to use the library, show them a
goodly number of examples, and even tell them how to record what they
learn in order to help them remember it and find it again in an
efficient manner. But the instructor simply cannot spare the time to
make the student do this work for the student, nor would it truly
help the student get that knowledge in their head, able to recall it
at need. The student has to:
- Provide the self-motivation and then do the work,
- Finding the items to study,
- Recognize reusable design elements in the objects,
- Record the reusable design elements,
- Study and review the material often enough that it becomes second
nature to recall it at need.
This is, given a student who does the above, a predictably learnable
skill. No matter how many items and the corresponding reusable design
elements a teacher shows a typical willing student, they will not
recall enough of it unless they have put in the time to do the work.
Some skills like this are motor skills in which the muscles have to
be repetitively trained over a period of time; others are mental
skills where the brain has to be trained as well.
Let’s take the example of “Play Ball (Safely) with my grandson
Alexander.” Alexander is two years old and big for his age. If he
throws the ball with his right hand, all is well. But if he throws
with his left hand, he’s got a truly powerful throw, so watch out.
This would seem to be an imminently teachable skill. The amount and
complexity of the knowledge to transmit could not be easier. In
practice, however, Alexander has to bean someone really hard in the
face before the student says, “Oh! Left hand. Watch it! Got it.” This
has turned out to be a predictably Discoverable bit of knowledge.
Having made this a funny story, perhaps I have, unlike his father,
succeeded in turning this Discoverable skill into a Teachable one.
The only way to know is for enough of you to come over and play with
my grandson while I dig out pictures of him to show you.
Ok, I got to slip in a story about one of my grandkids! I could tell
you I’m sorry about that, but I don’t believe in lying to my friends,
so here’s another example. “Is Design a process that can be followed
to quickly and predictably get good results, or is it totally
dependent upon Inspiration?” I like specific, real-world examples, so
let’s start with a real-world design task, “Design a unique piece of
jewelry for this couple that is very much in love. Quickly.”
No, by “Quickly” I don’t mean “Immediately, while they are standing
there.” But I certainly do mean, “Before they go to another jeweler
and buy from them instead.” That gives you a sliding but unknown
window of time to work in.
What is the he first step of the design process - assuming a
"Brilliant Inspiration" ’ does not leap forth from your forehead like
Aphrodite did from Zeus’? I submit it is to “gain more time to do the
design”.
One can do this before ever meeting the couple by building such a
reputation for happy customers that this couple is willing to wait a
long time, but that hardly helps those of us who haven’t come up with
so many good designs that we have earned that reputation. What else
can we do? How about charm and excite the couple with how they will
feel when “your” design is ready for them, and then how much more
exciting it will be when they hold the finished item(s) “you” made
for them in their hands? This is something that, while not in your
control, is certainly in your range of influence. Being able to do
this is largely a learned skill because one has to practice it to get
truly good at it. But if the jeweler has never mastered this skill,
or even tried to master it, they are unlikely to think of trying to
do it, much less do it well.
Now, I’m happy to say I have some experience with successful
romance. I courted a charming, delightful, smart and knowledgeable
beauty and we’re still happily married some thirty one years later.
Surely what would win Rebecca’s heart would melt the hearts of
everyone, right?
You did know that Rebecca is the kind of person who reads
undertaker’s trade journals while stuck at the funeral home for a
relative’s funeral, and makes comments like 'Wow! Did you know that
they use staples to keep the.", didn’t you? I suspect you didn’t. I
also expect that you really, really don’t want to know what those
staples are keeping in place, either. Or that she reads
archaeological site reports about people who died in a peat bog over
two thousand years ago to find out what their stomach contents were;
then makes a (surprisingly!!) tasty bog person gruel that matches
the ingredients? Or that she makes beautiful works of art (in dozens
of media - so eat your heart out with jealousy) and gives them to me
because she loves me?
So, should I just assume the things that make my honey excited will
work for our potential lovebird clients? Or is there some process I
could follow to find out what excites them? I’m thinking there is a
process I could follow. I could observe what they are dressed like,
what they are carrying, what tattoos they have and what their names
are. I could ask them what they each love to do on their own and what
they love to do by themselves. I could ask them how they met or about
any funny experiences they shared together. Socrates in ancient
Greece developed a means of questioning people to get at the heart of
what they mean. It’s called the Socratic method and it’s an extremely
powerful mental tool. But if the artist hasn’t learned how to follow
this process of getting from a potential client, or
isn’t even aware of it, they can’t make use of it effectively.
Incidentally, if the couple had a great time sharing their loving
moments with me and not any of the other jewelers they’ve talked to,
my time window to come up with a winning design just might have
gotten significantly larger. Their budget might just have gotten
larger, too. J
Now that I have some relevant that might “Brilliantly
Inspire” ’ me, maybe inspiration will hit and I’ll get the sale. Or
maybe it won’t. Do I just give up if nothing comes to mind? Do I just
wait around for “Brilliant Inspiration” ’ to strike as the potential
client clock runs down and they buy from someone else? If I don’t get
inspired, do I just claim that I have a block and call it a day? Or
is there a process I can follow that will help me come up with a
winning design?
I think there is. I believe that good designs are Discoverable. By
that, I mean that if I can navigate my brain close enough to where a
good design can be found for long enough I’ll stumble upon it and
recognize it when I do. This is also why design is so hard. Not
because design is so hard in and of itself, but because keeping my
brain working efficiently at this task requires me to have mastered a
lot of other skills.
If I don’t know how to solder, I either won’t recognize a good
soldered design or I’ll have to throw it away because I can’t use it.
If I can’t solder with the necessary level of quality and don’t know
who to subcontract that step to for reliable results, I’ll have to
discard that design. The same is true of texturing, riveting, sawing,
casting, raising, chasing, repousse, engraving, enameling, cloisonne,
champleve, acid etching, patination, and so on through a veritable
host of skills.
If I don’t how different proportions work to present a pleasing
effect, I’ll turn a great design idea into a terrible design. The
pieces of the design just won’t seem to fit together. I could, of
course, make it dozens of times using trial and error to get the
proportions right, but by then I’ve probably blown my client’s
deadline or lost money on the deal.
If I don’t have a good mental library of reusable design elements
that can be mixed and matched, I’ll be navigating in largely empty
space. I can’t easily realize that a given reusable design element is
"just what I need right there" to turn a so-so design into a great
one. I can’t easily realize that I could take half of one design
element and half of another to create an original design element
that’s “just right” if I never learned the two design elements I
could have borrowed from.
I hate buying clothes. It’s boring and it takes forever. I can’t
remember what I have and have trouble finding things in my size. It
might take me weekends of effort to replace my business wardrobe when
it wears out. Then I discovered The Men’s Wearhouse. I walked in and
the salesman asked me a few questions to determine what part of the
store we needed to be in. He asked a few more questions to get a
rough idea of my stylistic interests. Then he showed me four suits
and asked which I liked. I pointed out two, the others disappeared,
and a few more showed up. We repeated this drill a few times over the
next three minutes, then he gave me one in the right size (having
measured me) and sent me off to try it on. When I came back a few
minutes later, the empty table next to where we had been standing
was now full. There were two suits I liked, plus a host of shirts,
ties, socks, belts and shoes that all looked good with the suits and
could be mixed and matched with one another. All I had to do was
point at each item and say, “Yes” or “No.” In ten minutes my wardrobe
was picked out. All I had to do was spend a few minutes getting the
tailor’s marks on the suits and pick up the suits a few days later. I
spent way more than I meant to and I was extremely happy. I looked
good at work and I hadn’t wasted four or five weekends making it
happen. That company had a sales process that was tailored to their
business, which is making men look good in things they have to buy
and typically don’t want to. And jewelers think they have it hard. At
least people who buy jewelry want to!
How does that relate to the design process and my prior points?
That initial interview was just a sentence or two, but the salesman
knew I was looking for suits and not casual clothing. He had learned
what kind of products I wanted to buy and did not waste his time or
mine showing me the wrong products. He used the Socratic Method when
he showed me a small range of suits to choose from. He was able to
quickly zero in one what kind of suit I felt good in through the
pictorial medium of the sample suits and relevant questions, like,
“Which parts of this suit do you like the most or the least? And
why?” He knew his stock (which in our case could be our design bank
of styles) and used this method to quickly bring something in front
of me that I was interested in. The next part, where he assembled a
smorgasbord of items that mixed and matched with the two suits is
the brilliant part of this wardrobe design process. He worked to his
strengths and mine. In my case, I know what I like when I see it. He
was good at recognizing which colors, textures and styles would look
good together given the starting point of the two suits. The process
was painless and we both got what we wanted out of it. He got the
satisfaction of making a customer happy, designing a great wardrobe
combination, and a fat commission check. I looked good at work and
(for bonus points) my honey was happy with the way I cleaned up, too.
I’m about to mention an equally important aspect of this wardrobe
design process that is less obvious. He was in the business of
selling business wardrobes to businessmen. He wasn’t surprised that
someone came in looking for a couple of nice suits and the other
items to go with them. He was prepared to deal with his most likely
(and lucrative) customers. Going back to our design problem for our
lovebirds, should I be surprised that two folks came into my jewelry
business to buy love tokens? A general purpose jeweler shouldn’t be
surprised at such a request! That’s their bread and butter! Any
general purpose jeweler designer should already have spent a great
deal of time contemplating the nature of designs that are suitable
for this purpose. For example, a common theme in marriages or
engagements is that of two people becoming one. If I am properly
prepared to do my job as a general purpose jeweler, I should already
have explored how to represent that thought in jewelry. I may not
have designs fully ready to produce at a moment’s notice, but I
should have quite a few solid starting points ready to go. Let’s say
I decide to focus on what they like to do together or the cute way in
which they met as the basis for a design. If I’m prepared, I should
have already done some thinking about how people meet or what
hobbies they often do together in my part of the world and how to
translate that into jewelry. Be prepared is a good motto. Let’s say
that they met in a living history re-enactment group that is focused
on the War Between the States. If I have historical knowledge about
the war and the artistic themes prevalent during those times, I can
bring that knowledge to bear in my initial discussion with the
potential client and as another starting point in the design process
as well. Maybe one is a Rebel and the other is a DamnYankee and they
kid one another about it. (Yes, DamnYankee really is just one word
and the only kind there is according to some of my southern-born
friends). That might spark an idea to use blue and gray (the colors
used by the two opposing sides) blending together somewhere in the
design. That knowledge bank is just like our wardrobe salesman who
knew his stock and how to present it in its best light.
I think The Men’s Wearhouse method could be adapted to custom
jewelry design through the medium of artistic styles and motifs.
Maybe not. At some point I’ll find out for myself if someone else
doesn’t chime in that it works for them.