The Mysteries of Creative Partnerships

A children's book by the award-winning Chris Van Allsburg (1984) is rifled The Mysteries of Harris Burdick. It is an odd tale, consisting of 14 surreal black-and-white drawings, each accompanied by a title and a cryptic caption. In one picture, a white bird within a wallpaper pattern peels off the wall and flies away. In another, a woman sleeps while vines ominously grow out of the pages of her open book. And in the final image, a suburban house takes off like a rocket ship, shooting up into the midnight sky. The art is stunning, and the titles and captions alluring. But the real mystery appears in the opening frame of the book. It is a letter from Chris Van Allsburg, explaining that the pictures were first revealed in a meeting between Peter Wenders--a publisher Van Allsburg once knew--and an artist named Harris Burdick. Van Allsburg relates that long ago Burdick appeared in the publisher's office with his artwork. He explained that the singular drawings and snippets of prose were only samples from 14 fully developed stories he had crafted along with many more illustrations. The publisher was thrilled with the art and intrigued by the tantalizing captions, and the artist said that he would return the next day with the completed manuscripts. Instead, he never returned. Van Allsburg told Wenders that he found it impossible to look at the art and words and not think of his own stories to extend Burdick's work. The publisher smilingly retrieved an old box with many, many stories that had been written by his own children as well as their friends. Harris Burdick's images and prose had proved to be an irresistible inspiration to the children. Of course, the frame story in the form of a letter from Van Allsburg is as much a feat of the imagination as the images themselves. There is no Harris Burdick, for the artwork belongs to Van Allsburg himself, and there is not even a Peter Wenders, although Van Allsburg humorously tries to throw the reader off by dedicating the book to Wenders. Yet the story and the artwork are simultaneously so real and surreal that the reader cannot help but be drawn in. How did the fleeting partnership between Wenders and Burdick result in such imaginative work? And what would have resulted if the artist had returned and entered into a more complex and long-term working relationship with the publisher as well as the children? Would the creativity of the children have been stifled or enhanced? Often times when artists enter into school settings, they work briefly with children and teachers and then leave just as quickly as Burdick. Certainly a touch of the magic remains, but teachers may not feel they have the time nor the requisite skill sets to pick up where the artists left off. Conversely, in these brief encounters, artists have little time to learn from teachers, especially if they come to follow their own agendas and ignore the educational goals of the school (Weissman, 2004). And what about the children? Left to their own devices, children often do accomplish wonderful things, but as Vygotsky (1978) argued, wouldn't they achieve more if guided and encouraged by those who are more experienced? Egan (2005) explained: If we want to be able to routinely engage students' imaginations in learning, we must understand the main tools they have available for the task. We must shape our lessons to take advantage of their current skills and help develop them further. ... Of course, everyone knows that engaging students' imaginations in learning is one key to successful teaching. Over the years we have seen many suggestions for how to do this, but making its achievement a routine part of the classroom experience has proven quite elusive. (pp. xi-xii) The central argument of this article is that successful teaching often occurs in long-term professional development exchanges among teachers and artists, and it results in extended language opportunities for children. …