I like working with transitions of all kinds – new structures, services, systems. When things are in flux, new possibilities arise. Even as a child, I loved the spaces between things, the liminal spaces. Like flying between two cities or countries; or hanging out in the neglected spaces that tend to grow between two solid forms. And, in my work, I’ve always loved those moments when something changes dramatically – a merger, a divestment, a new CEO – and all that was seemingly solid just melts away. In thinking about and working with these transitional moments, I’ve been influenced by the work of William Bridges. The trajectory described by Bridges – of an ending, a neutral zone, and a new beginning – is elegant and useful. He distinguishes the different mind states that accompany the structural aspects of the change process, and the individual psychological transitions needed to support it.

goodbye comfort zone

Lots of energy, time and money gets lavished on the structural aspects of change and transition, the big overarching communication plans and strategies, while the interstices often get overlooked. But that’s where the best opportunities for experimentation can be found. Sure, these transitional moments are unsettling and emotionally complex, but isn’t this the terrain out of which all creative endeavours arise? Just ask any artist, writer, designer or performer – it’s not a self satisfied business plan shrouded in certainty that gets the creative juices flowing, it’s usually the tension inherent in the ‘not-knowing’ where to start that stimulates the creative energy needed to start. In other words, it’s a bit of a paradox; discomfort can be an important catalyst for human creativity. I’m not suggesting a binary opposition here: structured planning vs creative experimentation. When it comes to transitions, they can coexist. But they often need to coexist in different zones, different parts of the brain, and these zones need to be cultivated with a conscious approach. In 2011, I worked with a team undergoing a major transition.  My client, the Victorian Government Library Network, which had previously been a loose consortium of department-based libraries with their own systems, processes and single-client focus, was brought together under one shared service provider model nestled into the Treasury and Finance portfolio. Big systems changes were planned, along with the merger of the previously independent library services. Over a year, we were able to cultivate a more experimental and overtly ‘right hemisphere’ approach to transition.

the map of experience

We did many things together over the year, but one stood out; I called it ‘the map of experience’ after a powerful book I bought in the late 1990s by Dutch geographers Louise Van Swaaij and Jean Klare. Using large coloured cardboard sheets, an electric mix of postcards freely sourced from cafés and art galleries, and geographic signposts such as the  ‘quarry of concern’ or the ‘swamp of apathy’, the executive team constructed a collective ‘map’ that embodied their hopes, fears and perceptions about the road ahead. The next step involved using the same technique with the broader leadership team, which contained more unsettled views about the merger. Another collective map was constructed, with surprisingly little resistance or delay. The two groups came together with their respective maps; a difficult conversation ensued, but one that had an electric resonance. It was a turning point in terms of commitment to the process, and I’ve spent many months reflecting on why. My theory is that all the previous joint meetings had mainly focused on the technical, systems-related, structural and procedural aspects of the merger, encasing the emotional content behind a hard shell of cynicism and fear.

Map of experience

The map of experience was primarily a visual and kinaesthetic process, inviting the feelings-oriented right hemisphere to contribute valuable insights to the change process. These insights were illuminating, and led to a series of subsequent workshops that combined free expression with a more light-hearted planning mode.

bumpy but exciting

According to neuro-psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist, while each hemisphere’s specific capabilities are critical to learning, knowledge creation and knowledge sharing, it is the right hemisphere alone that can apprehend the new. Of course, it needs the left hemisphere to apply language and context to what is perceived and imagined, but without this capacity to apprehend new stimuli we would never innovate or even survive. Translating the experience or insight of ‘newness’ into language other people can understand, requires something more subtle than utilitarian words or frameworks. If these are relied on in the early stages of creative insight, the subjective and imaginative component is denuded or lost. McGilchrist sings the praises of metaphor in this context.  The ‘map of experience’ is essentially a collective metaphor-making technique; it allows the hidden to become visible, and once out in the open spaces of free conversation, it brings a burst of fresh energy to the bumpy road every transition must traverse if real change is desired.

Making the hidden visible

References:

Bridges, W. (1997) Managing Transitions: Making the Most of Change, Nicholas Brearly Publishing, London
McGilchrist, I. (2009) The Master and his Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Modern World, Yale University Press, New Haven
Van Swaaij, L. & Klare, J. (2000) The Atlas of Experience, Bloomsbury, London

The film A Dangerous Method, is essentially about the relationship between Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud, two of the 20th century’s most original thinkers. Thrown into the cinematic mix is Jung’s psychoanalytic treatment of Sabina Spielrein, with whom he has a torrid affair and who eventually becomes, herself, a brilliant psychoanalyst. These days we recoil from the fuzzy professional boundaries both men navigated in relation to their patients, colleagues and families. They were inventing a new way of understanding the human psyche; they floundered and fought and fumed about the other, as though engaged in a mythic struggle. I think their intellectual curiosity was heroic though, and revolutionary.

Film scene: Freud on left; Jung on right

Jung’s insights, in particular, have a special relevance to my work. Perhaps as a consequence of his dramatic disillusionment with Freud, Jung pursued a more speculative path, which led to an investigation of  the different patterns of mental processing he observed in himself and his patients. His work formed the foundations of what is now known as the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI). As an accredited MBTI practitioner, I have found it a useful medium for understanding and describing differences between people. My enthusiasm has often waxed and waned, but was recently revived when I had the chance to work with the Administrative Appeals Tribunal’s cohort of district and conference registrars. I held individual sessions with 26 registrars from across Australia. We talked about how the MBTI could provide insight into the strengths and challenges underpinning one’s preferred mode of perceiving and thinking. And, of course, how these patterns of mental processing play themselves out in our relationships with others – as colleagues and clients.

Like any tool, the MBTI can be used as a blunt instrument, or sensitive mirror. Over the years, I have found it robust and rich.

Client: Administrative Appeals Tribunal
2012

For an interesting discussion about A Dangerous Method, check out The Philosopher’s Zone.

Project Sisu and Pro Bono Publico have joined forces to produce the Lifetime Care and Support Scheme’s first newsletter.  The Scheme provides ongoing support to people who have been seriously injured in traffic accidents. The biannual newsletter, named Shine, aims to share stories and information across the Scheme’s network of participants and their families.

Brock Warren on the cover of Shine, Issue 1

A feature of the first 2012 Autumn issue, is the story of Brock Warren. In late January, I had the privilege of travelling to Tamworth, in north west NSW, to interview Brock and his parents, Debbie and Robert.

A recently qualified electrician, Brock had been working in his family’s electrical business in Tamworth. When not at work he loved riding his Yamaha R1 motorbike on the open roads of the New England plateau.
On Father’s Day, 5 September 2010, he left a mate’s place and was heading home. In a moment he lost his balance, and the rest is a blur. The Yamaha was written off and Brock ended up in Tamworth Base Hospital with severe injuries, so intense that an airlift to Royal North Shore Hospital (RNS) in Sydney was immediately commissioned. Arrival at RNS, with mother Debbie at his side, revealed a string of injuries – broken C6 vertebra, burst C7, broken T1, T2, T3 and T4, punctured lung, broken shoulder blade and collarbone, and deep gouges out of his knees and elbows.

Brock’s injuries were so severe that doctors prepared his parents for the prospect that he may never walk again. He was subsequently diagnosed with an incomplete spinal injury, encouraging Brock and his family to hope that some mobility might return. After seven weeks in the Spinal Unit, he went home to Tamworth. Since then, he has regained considerable mobility, and is back working as an electrician in the family business.

A quiet and reserved young man, Brock impressed me with his determination. While he can’t get under floors or climb into ceilings, he has gained new skills in thermal imaging and effectively brought a new stream to the business. While modest about his recovery, Brock told me that he’s always been a logical and curious person. “I’ve always asked questions and loved pulling things apart,” he said. “I guess I’ve just applied those skills to my injuries.”

Project Sisu and Pro Bono Publico 2012 (ongoing)
Client: NSW Lifetime Care and Support Authority

There was a fascinating video artwork in the White Rabbit Gallery’s recent Beyond the Frame exhibition by Taiwanese art ensemble, Luxury Logico. Shot in the small village of Treignac, France,  two alternating clips show a bearded young man working furiously on his Apple laptop while everything around him changes. The walls and what’s on them; the pillars and posts holding up the structure he sits in; the floors, the staircase, the artworks, the light source – all deconstructed and reassembled as he types away, oblivious and obsessed.

Project Woodpecker Treignac 2010

In reflecting on this work I have explored a number of possible interpretations, the most obvious of which is: Could it be a parable for our 21st century lives? In the sense that we are always being lured away from present-centred body awareness into a world of infinite abstraction, represented by the laptop and the alternative worlds it embodies.
And what range of improbabilities does the piece itself encapsulate? A private art gallery in Sydney, dedicated to collecting and exhibiting Chinese contemporary art, exhibits a piece by Taiwanese multimedia artists called, of all things, Project Woodpecker.  The piece contains no obvious markers of Chinese origin; the central character is European, and we know that it was shot in an obscure French village using a combination of old-fashioned stop-frame animation bundled with contemporary multimedia magic. Further exploration into Luxury Logico’s practice philosophy reveals a fresh approach to artistic collaboration, more aligned with global industrial design methods than the art world.
Luxury Logico consists of the Chang twins and two friends, who pool their diverse skills—in mechanics, computing, music, theatre design, lighting and photography….They liken their group to a Transformer, one of those modular toys that can be folded and rebuilt in a variety of forms.The artists say they want to encourage recycling and also convey optimism about a high-tech future. (DigiArts, 2010)
The notion of movement – people, ideas, objects and information – as a constitutive element in shaping new social formations, and new paradigms for social science, is the subject of an article I have recently read (Urry, 2007). In the case of Luxury Logico, the movement of disciplines, languages, geographies and digital products, has produced an interaction – between me, the viewer, and the artwork – that has lodged itself in my consciousness long after the event. And from there another form of movement has occurred – the event as stimulus for further reflection in this blog. Of course, some things don’t appear to move, or move at a different pace. Movement as a lens for inquiry is, however, a fresh approach. I’m sure the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus would agree; he was, after all, the author of the now famous quote: You can never step into the same river twice.

References:

Luxury Logico: Interview with Taiwan Digital Art and Information Center: DigiArts: 2/11/10
Urry, J (2007) ‘Mobile’ theories and methods, in Mobilities (pp 17-44), Cambridge, UK: Polity

In 2010, the UK government announced a swathe of public service cost cutting measures. These included the proposed closure of up to ten per cent or 450 public libraries across the country, and the suggestion that volunteers could staff many of the information services currently provided by qualified librarians.
Libraries Minister, Ed Vaizey, may have thought that normally mild-mannered librarians would not put up much of a fight. He was wrong.

An Australian public library – Narellan in NSW

the case for closure

The Government’s case revolved around a few core assumptions:

• the ubiquity of the internet, and the increased access to online resources it makes possible, rendered public libraries redundant and ‘out-of-date’ (Cochrane 2011)
• public library users were predominantly ‘white and middle class’ (Thorpe, 2011), people who could therefore afford alternatives; if, by extension, libraries had failed to adequately serve their multicultural constituencies, then they weren’t keeping up with demand and shouldn’t be ‘preserved in aspic’ (Thorpe, 2011))
• the services offered by qualified librarians is general and non-technical (women’s work?), and some of it could easily be replaced by non-professional volunteers at a fraction of the cost
• library usage was decreasing; the cuts had to come from somewhere, and, at £4 a pop for every transaction, they were expensive for local councils to run (Lott, 2011).

the counter-attack

A broad-based ‘save our public libraries’ campaign, using social media and erupting from multiple nodal points, quickly emerged. Throughout 2011, social media was employed to argue against the closures using facts, research findings, anecdotes, and celebrity spokespeople. The blog, Voices for the Library, became a successful conduit for collective action. In late 2011, The Independent newspaper joined forces with social web-mapping company Peer Index to find out which non-celebrity Twitter users had been most successful in ‘harnessing the 140-character medium and then using it to inform, provoke, entertain and engage’(Independent 22/12/11). Readers of The Independent, and Peer Index users, were asked to vote for their favourite ‘voices’. With over 2,800 followers, and a high trust rating, Voices of the Library (@ukpling) scored a Peer Index rating of 53, and was one of ten runners-up.
Over the last year year, over 100 public libraries have closed their doors.  The campaign to save them shows no signs of diminishing with National Libraries Day launched on 4 February, once again using Twitter as a rallying medium; and a large rally outside the Houses of Parliament in March 2012 drawing big crowds with its line-up of celebrity authors (Guardian 12/3/12).  Public pressure has also seen the UK Government’s Culture, Media and Sport Committee launch an inquiry into library closures, with findings due to be released in late March.
As community activist Tim Lott noted: “We are strong and we are determined and we are not about to take this lying down”  (Independent 23/1/11). Thanks to a new-found community activism in some boroughs, government incompetence in selling its message, and the clever use of social media, they haven’t had to.

References

Cochrane, Peter (2011) Time Libraries were Shelved?, Silicon.com, April 2011:  http://www.silicon.com/management/cio-insights/2011/04/18/peter-cochranes-blog-time-libraries-were-shelved-39747308/ (accessed 9/3/2012)
Flood, Alison (2012) Library closures protest to target houses of parliament, The Guardian, 12 march 2012 http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/mar/12/library-closures-protest-houses-parliament
Freeman, Hannah(2012)  Save our Libraries Campaign: one year on, The Guardian, 31 January 2012
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2012/jan/31/save-libraries-your-protest (accessed 13/3/12)
Lott, Tim (2011) The local library, a beacon of civilisation, The Independent, 23 January, 2011 (accessed 9/03/2012)
Marsden, Rhodri (2011) Independent voices of 2011: The most influential non-celebrity users of Twitter, The Independent, 22 December 2011 (accessed 9/03/2012)
Thorpe, Vanessa (2011) Library closures: Labour’s fury as users are labelled white and middle class, Guardian Observer, 16 January 2011 (accessed 10/03/2012)

When the University of Adelaide’s Hub Central opened last September, students found the doors open at 7.00 in the morning, and by 10.00 the new learning hub was packed. And why wouldn’t students want to hang out in such a vibrant space – after all, they co-designed it. What is now Hub Central was once an undistinguished thoroughfare linking the Barr Smith Library to the Hughes Building on the University of Adelaide’s North Terrace campus.  It’s transformation into a three-level, 24-hour learning and living facility that blends library, study, communication and learning spaces with kitchen, viewing and resting niches, has people raving – even the sceptics.

Taking a nap on khaki bean bag

Hub Central’s Manager, Hedley Reberger, who confesses that he too was once a sceptic, says: “If you had wandered in here on day one, you would have thought the students had been here forever.”  Most days, intense conversations emanate from the 22 project booths and rooms; the 200+ computer terminals and two Skype booths are booked out; each week six printers spit out 150,000 sheets of paper; many academics now use the space for more casual discussions with students, even bringing along pizza to share; the kitchen remains clean, perhaps to spite those who predicted disaster; and, natural light is filtered through a specially designed, environmentally sound screen-printed canopy, bathing supine bodies lounging on khaki bean bags, either reading, sleeping, or engaging in more amorous and less academic activities.

Why has Hub Central been embraced so enthusiastically?

Thanks to the Federal Government’s Better Universities Renewal Funding Scheme, the university attracted over $400 million for infrastructure development; around $20 million of the $42 million total build cost was allocated from this fund to Hub Central. The surprise element in this equation was the ratio of funds dedicated to consultation and collaborative design – between students and academics, architects and interior designers, builders and accountants. Adopting a student-centric design process could easily have been a shallow promise in the face of conflicting views held by academics and administrators, mainly because that’s how it traditionally pans out. But it is the seriousness with which this design process was conceived and executed that flipped Hedley Reberger from sceptic to passionate advocate.

After Hassell Architects came up with a working concept for the space, students and faculty were invited to form a joint reference group and ongoing governance body.  A graffiti-style ‘What Wall’, situated outside the library, became a magnet for feedback and ideas from passers-by.  The reference group went on tour throughout Australia to look at what other universities had done or were in the process of doing. All up, the consultation process included 9,000 student hours and 3,000 staff hours.

Project booth

And what did students want? No useless signage for a start, or messy poster boards. Now, 18 digital signage screens display information and keep track of computer availability, thanks to special digital signage content developed by Hedley’s team. Most of all, students wanted a self-contained versatile space – a communal space where they can work, relax, nap and eat. And, amongst other things, a sandpit surrounding an island of computer terminals; an apparently impractical idea that had to be re-imagined. What’s significant though, is that it was re-imagined and not simply dismissed.

“It’s tempting to think in polarities,” Hedley reflects. “Either you have traditional classrooms or technology-centred hubs; our aim was to create a middle ground, a community heart.” The space they created is designed for experimentation, not just spatially, but also in terms of learning, communication and inter-disciplinary knowledge sharing. Hedley’s team, for example, consists of six staff with a brazen motto: Every issue – one stop, one step. But there’s a lot that needs to happen behind-the-scenes to live up to this promise; intense negotiations across the university for a start, and that often requires an outlier like Hedley to push for change and sidestep despondency when roadblocks appear.

 Beyond bridges

Aalto-style low cardboard stools

When I walked into Hub Central with my colleague, Monica Redden, I was instantly smitten by the space. Without knowing a single fact about its genesis, I sensed something new, and, through my eyes, something beautiful, real and original. Could it be that Hub Central’s fresh vitality is an end product of the university’s commitment to transform student experience by putting students at the centre of decision-making? If so, then it hasn’t happened by chance, or by being a naive when it comes to tough negotiations.”It’s a waste of time trying to build bridges,” says Hedley. ” If we really want innovation, we should be blowing them up.”  Presumably, that means ripping apart stodgy silos and endless reasons why things can’t be done, and replacing them with partnering agreements based on establishing common ground. The Barr Smith Library, for example, wasn’t keen about ceding some of its floor space to Hub Central. Now, with a couple of ex-library staff on Hub Central’s service team, the task is to work out how the two services – Hub Central and library – can work seamlessly together.  The Maths and Writing Centres are also co-located in Hub Central. Not only have drop-in numbers increased by 470 per cent, but the experimental spirit that infuses the space has also triggered new ideas about how the two services can work together to do things differently. In effect, they have to – the massive increase in numbers has disrupted business-as-usual for good.

Hedley’s kinetic energy also suits the space, which celebrates the flux and flow of student life. Most things are on wheels or light enough to move easily – sofas, stools, worktables, beanbags, Aalto-style low cardboard stools, Moo Cows or ‘Mobile Computers on Wheels’ (a real hit with engineering and architecture students), and mini-whiteboards. “We’ve had to remind students that the whiteboards belong in the Hub,” says Hedley, “and not in seminar rooms on the other side of North Terrace!” Otherwise, dragging stuff around is what Hub Central is all about.

Fact file

Chairs and stool

Hub Central covers 10,500m2 over three levels. It offers: 11 project rooms, 11 project booths, student lounges with moveable furniture, two information service areas, a student kitchen, two Skype booths and a news bench, two training rooms, over 200 new computers, total wireless connectivity, print stations, lockers, the Maths Learning Centre, the Writing Centre, three food outlets, a convenience store, and a post office.

Thanks to Hedley Reberger for taking time out to speak to us, and to the university’s creative Careers Service team for choosing Monica Redden Consultancy and Project Sisu to facilitate their annual planning day.

Hedley Reberger (centre) with Monica Redden (far right), Annie Talvé (far left) and Careers Service team