Many years ago, I set up a small corner at a family fair to introduce the painting game, a unique painting method developed by Arno Stern. This method encourages creativity without critique or evaluation, enabling creativity to thrive without the constraints of judgment. Amid the bustling fairgrounds, filled with bouncy castles, Bibi and Tina stars, and an array of treats (Arno Stern would definitely not have approved of taking the painting game out of its safe surroundings), my painting corner unexpectedly became a popular spot. Children eagerly lined up to paint, taking their time to explore their creativity without pressure. Throughout the day, my corner was filled with a steady stream of young creatives.
At the time, the painting game and my approach to nurturing creativity were relatively unknown. When a father began harshly critiquing his daughter's painting, I tried to explain the philosophy behind my approach. His response was stark: ‘If you are always satisfied with everything, you will never improve.’ This remark, clearly from a different school of thought, has stayed with me, not only because it shows so clearly what I am up against, but also because it echoes a sentiment held by many parents: the belief that creativity must yield tangible, recognizable (and in the case of our father, ‘better’) results.
Many parents would probably disagree with this statement at this point. But every time a child is asked to explain their drawing or painting, every time we hear the question, ‘And what did you paint?’, we are confronted with the underlying assumption that the picture carries a story, a meaning, or at least something that can be put into words. In my studio, where I have been working with parents and children for over 10 years, this question is one that I encounter almost daily.
Obviously, parents are asking this question for many (good) reasons: They love their child and want to show interest in what they are doing. Some are eager to understand their child better, hoping for a glimpse into their inner world. Others simply don’t know what else to say when presented with a drawing or painting. In Arno Stern’s world, this problem was addressed by not allowing parents to view their children’s work. This approach benefited both the parents and the children. However, despite truly respecting Arno Stern’s legacy, I disagree with certain aspects of his work and, in this case, I favour education over restriction.
While most parents, including those who take a tough-love approach, might have only good intentions, really understanding how to approach creativity can benefit both children and parents."
First and foremost, when people are truly engaged in the act of creating, they might, if they are fortunate enough, enter a state known as the creative flow. It’s a state that all artists aspire to; it’s a state where you connect deeply with your inner world, and images or ideas emerge naturally, almost as if they have a life of their own. Children have a remarkable ability to access this creative flow.
However, when someone is in the creative flow, they are not thinking analytically or logically. They are not planning or structuring their work with a specific goal in mind; instead, they are following a more intuitive, subconscious process. To ask someone, especially a child, about the meaning or purpose of their painting forces them to rationalize it retrospectively.
Furthermore, when children expect that they will be asked questions about their paintings, it fundamentally changes the way they approach the creative process. Instead of entering a free, open-ended exploration of their thoughts and emotions, they might start to think ahead, to prepare answers, or to create something that can be easily explained or justified. This anticipation of needing to verbalize or define their artwork makes it much more difficult to enter the creative space. The mind becomes preoccupied with the end result rather than staying present with the act of creation itself. This shift in focus can make the experience more about fulfilling external expectations than about connecting to your inner world.
Secondly, these questions often unintentionally place more value on realistic depictions over abstract expression. There is a widespread expectation that as children grow older, their art should become more representational - depicting recognizable subjects like trees, houses, or people. This emphasis on realism can discourage children who naturally gravitate toward more abstract forms of expression, where meaning is felt rather than seen and understood on an emotional level rather than a literal one. It can also pose a challenge for younger children who are simply experimenting with strokes and marks, creating for the pure joy of the process, yet feel pressured to produce recognizable objects. In reality, abstract expression is particularly valuable because it goes beyond the limitations of language and verbal communication. By moving beyond conventional words, we access a deeper form of expression, using visuals to convey emotions and experiences that are not easily articulated.
And finally, (and this is where I align with Arno Stern) there is a common misconception that creativity is primarily a way to communicate with others. For children (and many adults, too), the act of creating is an opportunity for self-exploration and self-expression, free from the need for external validation or understanding. When a child paints, draws, or sculpts, they are not trying to tell us anything, but they are engaging in a form of self-dialogue that helps them process their experiences and make sense of the world around them.
Therefore, to truly support our children’s creativity, let’s shift our focus from the final product to the experience of creating. By allowing them to express themselves freely without needing to explain or justify their work, we open the door to profound and transformative creative experiences. Let’s encourage them to explore their inner worlds, experiment with colours, shapes, and forms, and develop their creativity and intuition - skills that will benefit them far beyond the art studio.
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