Contextsvariety of reasons, but the one i want to draw attention to here relates to our return
journey to delhi. it was already dusk as we were leaving agra and, as is the way in
india, the streets were busy with all variety of traffic moving about in what seemed, to
me at least, a completely chaotic fashion. i was tired, not feeling especially well, and
at this point keen to get back. as we moved through the busy streets it was clear that
neither our driver, nor our guide, knew precisely which way we should go, and as far as i
could see there were no street signs. at frequent intervals and as we reached junctions,
the guide would lean out, often while we were still moving, and simply shout, ‘delhi’.
The response from various other road users, some on foot, some not, was inevitably
a vague wave of the arm in a particular direction, some more insistent or reassuring
than others, but rarely anything amounting to what this particular passenger felt to
be a satisfactory set of directions. again and again this was repeated. This caused me
much consternation at the time, why could we not stop and check a map, or perhaps
ask for a more detailed set of directions, and then move forward without this constant
interruption and the perpetual uncertainty that at any one time we were heading in
the right direction? We did of course return safely to our guest house in delhi. perhaps
it took us much longer than it need have, perhaps not, i will never know. But this
experience stuck in my mind for a long time, and i think speaks to different ways of
knowing the world, what we might want to call different epistemologies.^18 From my
perspective, knowledge would have been represented in an abstract way by a map,
or alternatively by an individual who was able to map out in words the entirety of
our route. our guide and driver however seemed to operate on a different principle.
Knowledge for them did not reside in a single individual or artefact, but was widely
distributed and available on the streets; even better, should some of their respondents
provide poor quality advice, it would soon be cancelled out by the collective knowledge
of all those they consulted.
Why am i telling this story? Well, i think it may offer a useful metaphor for thinking
of the development of doctoral research. First, it is a metaphor which argues against too
much abstract theorizing about the special nature of research in the creative arts and
design. second, it suggests we need to engage with others heading in different directions,
but nevertheless traversing the same territory. But above all, it points towards the need
to engage with the seemingly chaotic real world of research. proposals can only take
one so far. i am sure we all ask our students to work out coherent proposals at the
outset of their research, and indeed funding bodies ask the same of us when we ask for
their support, rightly so, but there comes a point where one has to leave the drawing
board and immerse oneself in the world outside. and it is only by doing so that doctoral
students are able to complete their training.
Notes1 a number of the ideas in this chapter were first presented in a conference paper (newbury
2009).
2 i tend to use the inclusive term ‘creative arts and design’ to refer to the research domain covered
by this paper; on occasion for the sake of avoiding awkward sentence construction i abbreviate
this to arts- based or creative arts research, but no distinction is implied. my experience is mostly
in the visual arts and design, though there is a common set of issues also being debated by
those in architecture, music and performance. These might broadly be referred to as ‘the making