Introduction

Architectural and educational conceptions of openness

In the late 1800s to early 1900s, as with other creative fields, Architecture became an exploration of new ideas and technologies, analytical representations of space, material and form (Norberg-Schulz 1965; Vidler 1994). These exploratory ideas exerted a significant influence on the work of Matta-Clark, an architectural-artist in the 1970s known for unwalling or the dismembering of building structures (Attlee 2007). His work was based on the idea that walls, doors, floors and even the roof of a building were alienating and divisive; he physically explored the defining and confining authority and isolationism of buildings (Lee 1999). Matta-Clark (quoted in Lee 1999, p. 26) wrote: “By undoing a building there are many aspects of the social conditions against which I am gesturing… to open a state of enclosure… that profligates suburban and urban boxes as a context for ensuring a passive, isolated consumer.”

This critical conceptualisation of architecture as an ‘architectural straitjacket’ (Bataille, as quoted in Hollier 1990), was taken up more recently by Hatton (1999, pp. 66–67) who argued that architecture continues to “advantage alienation—the primal agency whereof is the wall [original emphasis]”. During the modernist period of the twentieth century, world renowned form-defining architects such as Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright reacted to these ideas by pursuing the goal of openness (Frampton 2007). Le Corbusier believed that architecture should have free and open plans to allow interior freedom, as seen in his early designs such as Villa Savoye; Frank Lloyd Wright sought to destroy the box with simplicity in space, shape and material. More recently Richard Rogers has linked open space in cities with humanism, inclusiveness and democracy (Rogers 1998). Perhaps this abstract expression of context and program usage was a reaction against the strictly defined and enclosed symmetry of classical architecture and perhaps an exploration into the new directions that the world of analytical design now opened up. Architectural theorists have continued to examine questions about the relationship between form and function (Forty 2004) and the social production of space (Moholy-Nagy 2005). While this paper is focused on physical environments, acknowledgement is made of the impact of technology through loosening the constraints of time and space (Oblinger 2004). Any examination of virtual space probably will encounter more unrestrained versions of openness afforded through technologically infused conceptions of teaching and learning (Collinson 1999; Sharples et al. 2010).

Conceptual critiques of the interaction between space and function have led to the emergence of openness as an influential concept in both architecture and education that challenges conventional means of control and organisation of school space. What then is openness when viewed from the two disciplines of architecture and education? Openness is an amalgam of conceptions: physical (unwalling, undoing, breaking); social (choice, flexibility, autonomy); and cultural (democracy, freedom, community) (Gislason 2007; Melhuish 2011; Upitis 2004). Openness can be expressed through school architecture, conveying authority for different or alternative teaching practice (Boys 2011). In education, openness refers to an approach combining flexible space, student choice, rich tasks, curriculum integration and a focus on individual rather than large-group teaching (Horwitz 1979; Silberman 1970). Educational conceptions of openness emphasise increasing student control over approaches to learning (Melhuish 2011). In both architecture and education, openness challenges routine meaning, activities and practice (Blackmore et al. 2011).

It is reasonable to ask what is distinctive about contemporary open spaces for learning in relation to the well-documented twentieth century unwalling of schools. One answer is that, while previous attempts at openness were a reaction against power, alienation and authoritarian control, current versions appear to be more generative than revolutionary. Substantial arguments from architecture (e.g. Rogers 1998: democracy, humanism, inclusion), education (e.g. Prain et al. 2013: personalised learning, twenty-first century learners), sociology (e.g. Edwards 2011: agency, collaborative workplace practice), psychology (e.g. Duckworth et al. 2009: self regulation, autonomy, motivation) and technology (e.g. Deed and Edwards 2013: outsideness, collective intelligence, distributed expertise) lend considerable support for openness as a blend of innovation and orthodoxy.

Although this paper considers the interaction between open space and teacher adaptation, previous studies have provided a broad range of perspectives on the impact of openness on a range of teaching and learning factors. Gifford (2007) examined how lower-density classrooms can lead to a reduction in aggressive behaviours. Open spaces allow a range of configurations for specific purposes and groups (Barrett and Zhang 2009) and encourage a sense of community and team and interdisciplinary teaching (Gislason 2007). Gislason (2007) and others have identified that open spaces can result in distractions and noise, although this could be mediated by organisational support through timetabling, for example.

While these studies offer much breadth and texture to any consideration of teaching practice in open space, continued examination is needed about how teachers adapt their practice to open-space classrooms. This follows the suggestion of Greeno (2009) and Boys (2009, 2011) to consider the intersection of social and spatial practices of teaching as a complex set of reciprocal relationships. Activity needs to be considered as situated and a function of past experiences and the complex capacity to identify and react to various social, cultural and physical affordances of a space (Boys 2009; Greeno 2009). However, it is worth noting that there is no simple relationship between an environment and human activity (Woolner et al. 2007). Nevertheless, there is a certain logic in the assumption that the design of a learning environment can prompt or symbolise the type of teaching or learning likely to be experienced (Gislason 2010; Halpin 2007).

School architecture, through the exploration and expression of context and the intended program of functional users, authorises and emphasises certain possibilities for teaching and learning. While openness can be abstractly expressed through school architecture, the realisation of these authorisations is the result of teachers’ thinking, practice and pedagogical engagement with the possibilities inherent within learning environments (Davis et al. 2011; Temple 2007). It is the individual teacher who must break with convention in order to take and apply the meaning of openness (Woolner et al. 2007). Open learning environments have to accommodate multiple and complex interactions between space and pedagogy. These include continuity of traditions and routine that retains significant influence on the day-to-day activity of teachers (Desforges 1995). While teachers might be aware that different teaching practice is afforded by a learning environment, they might continue to use pedagogical practices appropriate to more conventional space (Cooper 1981). Routines and conventions of teaching practice are ingrained in conventional school buildings, as noted by Wallace (1980) who identified a relationship between teaching in an enclosed classroom and control over student behaviour, movement and interaction. The implication is that the process of making sense of practice is immediate, situated and continuous and can include a spectrum of conflict, resistance and adaptation (Ottesen 2007; Woolner et al. 2012).

Framing the interplay between openness and teacher adaptation

As open learning environments become more prevalent in contemporary schools, it is reasonable to consider assumptions about inhabitants’ reaction and interaction with the built learning environment. The central question examined in this paper is how teachers adapt their practice as they move into new school buildings designed and built on the concept of openness. In order to address this question, consideration is given to how modern architectural and education concepts of openness authorise different approaches to teaching and learning, and a case study is provided of how teachers perceive and respond to these action possibilities.

The literature outlined above suggests that openness can be conceptualised and examined from multiple perspectives. Here we are limited to two lenses, architecture and education, and to possibilities as constituted in physically realised design and consequential teacher hybridisation of activity. Teacher habitation of open spaces is theorised as a form of systemic adaptation. Our explanations and modelling of teacher adaptation are an elaboration of a conceptual intersection within two disciplinary narratives. The use of one illustrative case study demonstrates how the conception of openness is situated in practice. The perceptions and adaptive reaction of teachers outlined in the case study are one account of the formative influence of openness.

Subsequent ordering of findings and discussion are based on constituent elements of openness and teacher reaction and adaptation. The literature identifies that openness: authorises the imaginative re-forming of school learning environments; is expressed through physical and social unwalling of authority and routine in learning environments; and disrupts teaching and learning conventions through distortion of form and creating uncertainty about function and meaning. Teacher reaction to inhabiting physical space designed to express openness is uncertain and complex (Deed et al. 2014). Teacher practice knowledge is continually informed and shaped through experience (Hoekstra and Korthagen 2011). This suggests that, even if teachers perceive the possibilities authorised by the space, their adaptation could be constrained by institutional memory and routine. A close examination of teachers’ adaptive practice is one means of making sense of the uncertainty and contested meaning of new and emerging learning environments. A teacher must perceive the authorised expressions of openness in the physical context as one element in an overall assessment of the realistic possibilities or practical constraints within the context for action (Wilson and Demetriou 2007). For this reason, the case study focuses on a description of the local context for action and an analysis of deliberate and adaptive teacher practice in that context. In other words, openness is conceptualised as aspects of an experience that ground and prompt teacher perception and action. In this way, we draw on a plurality of concepts to frame an analysis of a situated experience and explain consequent perceptions and actions.

Case study: open learning environments in junior secondary schools

The case study approach as described by Yin (2009) used here is an attempt to show the complexity of the relational interactions between the architectural configuration of the open classroom and the reaction of the teacher (Gislason 2010; Woolner et al. 2012). The case study illustrates teacher reaction and adaptation to moving into an open-space environment. This account provides insight into teacher perceptions of links between architectural intentions and authorisations and their subsequent teaching.

The case study was part of an Australian Research Council project, Improving Regional Secondary Students’ Learning and Well-being (IRL), that aimed to identify enablers and constraints in improving student learning outcomes and wellbeing in Bendigo Education Plan schools. The IRL project was conducted over 2011–2013 in a cluster of four newly-built Year 7–10 schools in a large regional city in Victoria, Australia. Each school conducts teaching and learning programs in buildings with a mix of open learning areas and designated curriculum areas for particular subjects such as science and art. Schools in the cluster are organised into learning communities of about 150–300 students, with some schools mixing year levels in these communities, and others focusing on a single year cohort. The schools aim to introduce personalised learning and a more flexible approach to learning pathways and choices for students in Years 7–10. The design of the schools assumes students will work in a range of physical and virtual contexts and communities, including formal lessons, informal work areas and larger open spaces. The schools’ student population is drawn predominantly from low socio-economic groups with most from an Anglo-Celtic background.

Data were collected through interviews with ten school staff members purposefully drawn from the four schools. All staff members had been at the school prior to the new buildings being constructed and were active in the transition to working in the new space. This enabled them to draw on memories of teaching in traditional space, as well as reporting perceptions of entering and ongoing adaptations and challenges of the new teaching spaces. Each staff member was asked about the use of space for teaching and learning, their initial reaction, their pedagogical experimentation, their perspective of how the learning spaces influenced their teaching and the changes to their practice since entering the open classroom spaces. For the data analysis, all interview notes were transcribed. The broad categories of teacher thinking prior to moving into the open spaces, sense of affordances of open learning spaces, and teaching and learning strategies enacted within open learning spaces were used to inform the initial data review. Within each category, a number of structural codes relating to teacher reasoning and the influence of the open spaces were identified (Saldana 2009). The initial categories and codes were reviewed in a second and final analytical sweep of the data by the researchers. The key themes emerged during discussion about the data between the two authors, who each represented a different disciplinary perspective.

Expressions of openness

The Bendigo Education Plan (BEP) states that “the regeneration of junior secondary schools in Bendigo is based on contemporary design principles that improve learning outcomes for students… with design features to allow increased student access, use and ownership of the learning environment” (Department of Education and Early Childhood Development 2006, p. 27). The BEP was a part of Victorian Government’s Building Futures Project and used Fielding Nair International (FNI) as a planning and design consultant. FNI reasoned that “school stock built in the 1950 and 1960s has exceeded its useful life and that reinvestment in school buildings must contribute to a marked improvement in student learning” (Fielding Nair International 2013b). Through preliminary site concept drawings to the final plans, FNI emphasised small learning communities as a contemporary version of the classroom (Fielding Nair International 2013a). These are characterised as learning neighbourhoods, which are large open spaces accommodating 100–150 students and staffed by a small team of teachers. Each school has four buildings, or communities, each containing two or four neighbourhoods. Nair (2009, 2011), one of the principal architects involved in conceptualising the BEP designs, argues that the classroom is the basic unit of school design and its design should be based on conceptions of effective learning. Nair’s (2009) architectural philosophy is reflected in his comment:

Who seriously believes that locking 25 students in a small room with one adult for several hours a day is the best way for them to be ‘educated’? In the twenty-first century, education is about project-based learning, connections with peers around the world, service learning, independent research, design and creativity, and, more than anything else, critical thinking and challenges to old assumptions.

Other design features of each building are integrated wireless and fixed computer spaces, studio classrooms for up to 25 students, tutorial rooms and staff meeting areas. Furniture that can be moved and used flexibly in a range of layouts is provided. The learning environments are characterised as flexible, meaning that they can accommodate a range of teaching and learning approaches, including interdisciplinary inquiry-based, personalised and community learning (Department of Education and Early Childhood Development 2006). Students also can work autonomously or in small social groups, perhaps by rearranging furniture to create ‘nooks and crannies’, or to work on the floor (Department of Education and Early Childhood Development 2006, p. 29). The open nature of the neighbourhood design authorises teachers working one-on-one, with small groups or with large groups. Teachers are part of the neighbourhood, they can be sighted and accessed at any time by students, and they are expected to work in teams.

Teacher reactions to new open spaces

Prior to moving into the new facilities, school staff members were thinking about conditions and processes to ensure they were ready for the transition phase:

(Teachers needed to be) ready in their minds for the spaces. (Respondent Z)

We all had ideas about what it would be like… It was a vision of Utopia. (Respondent J)

A key thing was visualisation about putting new theory into practice. (Respondent Q)

Teachers moving into open-space classrooms found a new environment that lacked walls or other conventional structural prompts. They moved from a space that usually held 25 students to large barn-like structures that could hold up to 100 students. A significant number of school staff commented on their colleagues trying to maintain habitual practice.

You have a discrepancy between what the buildings can deliver and what the kids want and what the teachers are willing or capable of delivering. (Respondent F)

Some people… are still trying to mould their old into the new, pretending there are walls. (Respondent Q)

It’s pretty confronting for people who’ve always taught behind closed doors. (Respondent N)

There was a sense that teachers’ memory and experience in conventional spaces was deeply ingrained and provided a validated set of approaches to teaching. These traditional approaches relied on being in a defined and bounded space where there were known and expected routines and interactions between one teacher and their group of 25 students.

How could we change the pedagogical sentiment and philosophy within the teaching staff when they’d been established for long periods of time? (Respondent J)

Some people might slip back into old practice, safe practice rather than effective practice. Safe practice might be closing up your area. (Respondent Q)

Teachers were aware that they were to operate in a space that would require new practices and the loss of some old processes. Staff rooms, separation of staff and student toilets, classrooms, corridors, locker rooms, computer rooms and so on all had been replaced by an open community space. Teachers perceived that there were certain teaching and learning behaviours that could no longer be enacted:

We knew we were losing something… things that the facility no longer provided you with the personal space (to undertake). (Respondent Z)

(We) have really struggled to teach novel study in these spaces… Somehow or another we need to find a way to read aloud in these spaces. (Respondent G)

No longer was the teacher tied to 25 students. (Respondent J)

The open nature of the spaces meant that key constructs of organisation, conformity, order and control were immediately identified as concerns and anxieties:

There was no organisation… There was a whole lot of freedom but the learning and engagement was quite doubtful. (Respondent J)

The openness… (Teachers and students) weren’t locked into classrooms. (Respondent Q)

There’s lots of external doors, kids just walking out… kids basically not conforming. (Respondent N)

The initial reaction was to control the spaces by instigating behavioural protocols, controlling access by locking some doors, organising furniture into classroom arrangements in each corner of the large building, and emphasising the traditional teacher responsibilities for controlling, directing, and shaping behaviour of their students. There were concerns that the students needed to be contained in certain locations even though the walls had been removed:

The classroom management of it all needs to be monitored. (Respondent J)

We were pretty tight when we started because we wanted to have that control. (Respondent N)

They weren’t contained… in their areas. (Respondent Q)

The architectural configuration afforded different teaching practice, through provision of flexible teaching spaces, and the creation of comfortable and safe learning spaces. In order to limit movement, each school tended to reorganise the timetable from six or seven short lessons per day to three or four longer periods. Teacher perceptions of what the spaces could offer for different teaching and learning were evolving through experimentation and re-imaging their teaching practice. One example was the conceptualising of neighbourhoods:

Before, when they were locked in their little cage for ages with their one teacher, they weren’t sure what was happening down the hallway. (Respondent F)

(I used to) hear them in the staffroom saying “I’ve only got a few weeks left with that kid and I’ll never see them again”… It was just persevering. (Respondent A)

(The staff) are not just whizzing into class and out and hiding in the staffroom. Those barriers are gone. (Respondent Q)

A number of tensions were evident as teachers spoke about their reactions to the new spaces. In particular, the question of what exactly was teaching in these spaces came to the fore. Conventional images of teachers tend to focus on one teacher in control of a defined classroom space. Other routines include teachers taking responsibility for their students for a timetabled period and teaching a specific set of content. These habitual practices were challenged by the open spaces, through primary questions about responsibility, relationships and reporting.

While teachers were responsible for their own planning, implementation and review of lessons in a conventional classroom, open-space neighbourhoods afforded a shared or team approach to these components. Responding to these tensions required effort and motivation from teachers. Teachers could remain autonomous or be a passive team member and just deliver their lessons without moving furniture or responding to the neighbourhood intentions inherent within the building shape and affordances. There was variation among teachers in the way they perceived and reacted to the possibilities the buildings offered:

It comes down to how much effort the teachers are prepared to put in. If the teacher wants to put up a wall and say I can’t get to know 75 (students), then they won’t. (Respondent G)

Some teachers didn’t see it was their responsibility to organise the environment. Because that’s the way it was left, that’s the way they taught in it. (Respondent J)

We timetable them to an area, but there’s nothing to say you can negotiate to use some of the other spaces. (Respondent N)

Adapting to new open spaces

Teachers and students both needed to adapt together. Teachers perceived that students expected a certain routine of control and curriculum:

Even the students were boxed in with their thinking. They couldn’t visualise it being open and working there, and being able to go off and do your work in casual settings. (Respondent Q)

(Students had) been there 8 or 9 years in education when it was ‘done to them’; they’d perceived what it was to be a student and had adapted accordingly (Respondent J)

You’re able to have really in-depth, rich discussions with the kids about what they are doing… It’s actually learning to let go a bit and allow the students to have a bit of control. (Respondent M)

An example is provided by Respondent G of teaching English in a Year 8 neighbourhood of 75 students. The students were divided into groups based on capacity to complete the task independently. There were four groups: independent students, those requiring some direction, a group who required intensive support, and the final small group of students with behavioural issues. The independent group had no designated teacher but could approach any teacher in the neighbourhood if they needed assistance. These students were able to work autonomously or in social groups. The learning space afforded flexibility to students who made choices about where to sit and when and how to work:

They had the choice about where they wanted to work… Generally they like the freedom to sit where they wanted and to be away from the behaviour problems. (Respondent G)

It all had to be rebuilt, and all the resources. It was a different pedagogy, a different teaching style. (Respondent J)

The difference was that each teacher moved from working with 25 students in a bounded space, to a team of three teachers working across the neighbourhood. Rather than designing and teaching a single lesson for their group, teachers now must produce a number of differentiated components for each lesson.

Another example is the independent learning unit taught by respondent K. Students sit in one corner of a large space in a rectangular set of desks. No teacher space is marked by a whiteboard and there is no ‘front’ of the space. Students can reorganise furniture and go over to couches or computer workstations to work:

We don’t have access to a board and so the students don’t need to be sitting like that and facing a certain direction. (Respondent K)

Our students are quite free to come and go as they please as long as I know where they are in case there’s an emergency. (Respondent K)

The way in which teachers and students are using the space is more directed by the students. (Respondent F)

The buildings expressed openness, but how was this translated into practice? The open plan spaces were able to accommodate a range of practices, including conventional or experimental pedagogy. This meant either low or high levels of student autonomy and interaction. A space could be organised as a set of individual desks for a teacher-directed task requiring low autonomy and interaction. The same space could be organised into a set of table groups for tasks requiring high levels of constructive interaction. A mix of the two could produce high autonomy and interactivity. The flexibility of the space is determined by allowed dynamic multiple and complex interactions between physical and virtual space, teachers, students, and conventional and experimental pedagogy. Compared with the closed cellular classroom, open learning spaces require a dynamic set of compromises between competing intentions, ideas, values and practices.

Discussion

Three themes were used in the case study: expressions of openness, teacher reaction and adaptation to open spaces. These provide the basis for a model of the relationship between space and teacher adaptation outlined here. The following discussion provides an argument that openness constitutes possibility, authorising teacher agency. In other words, openness is generative, although constrained by institutional routines related to space and function. In the case study, examples of hybrid pedagogy emerged as intentional choices that were both contextually- and conceptually-sensitive.

The constitution of possibility

In the case study, the abstract expression of openness embodied in a school-less shape represented a break from the routines, cultural norms and expectations of the institutional classroom. The new open-plan neighbourhoods expressed conceptions of community, flexibility, increased autonomy and permeable physical and virtual boundaries. These expressions of openness authorised alternative pedagogical action, dispositions to humanised and democratic learning within a learning community, and collaborative mutuality between teacher and student inhabitants. Interactions, imagined and actual, occurred immediately and continuously between individuals and these action possibilities. This was an example of how space can be “both an expression of an idea of a collective future and a tool for speculative realisation of this idea” (Krivy 2010, p. 831). This does not suggest that a form of architectural determinism is exercised, but rather enhanced sensitivity to contextual possibility and subsequent awareness of institutional constraint. As argued by Rogers (1998), although buildings express ideas, these expressions must be read and interpreted by inhabitants.

The case study showed that, upon initial entry into an open learning environment, a level of uncertainty was introduced about the appropriateness of previous teaching and learning routines. This juxtaposition between conventional ways of teaching and recognition of the action possibilities of a context provided an opportunity for different practice.

One challenge was the constant flow of teachers and students in and out of a learning space. Any habitation was temporary. Silberman (1970) argued that the defining feature of the open classroom was an agreed set of values and approaches. One way to distinguish a maturity of practice within open spaces would be the existence of a coherent set of practices (Rogoff 1994). Yet, any open learning environment is likely to have teachers at different stages of understanding about how to effectively use the space, resulting in a set of temporary and incoherent practices. As a result, any form of systemic maturity—implying coherent and stable activity, routines and conventions, and mutuality between inhabitants—cannot be reached or maintained in an open system in the short term. As teachers move into and work in an open space, teaching practice moves through cyclical stages of experimentation and negotiation (John-Steiner and Mahn 1996). Maturity is dependent on stability of routine and a level of pedagogical certainty. This is not to suggest that dynamism of openness equates to chaos. It is more likely that every teaching action is both self-critiqued and acts as a critique of conventionally located practice. Also, teacher pragmatism does not allow continuous uncontrolled effort. The question of what works must be addressed. Against the flow of pragmatism and routine effort, pedagogical experimentation requires an act of will, which raises the intensity of teaching practice. At a minimum, teaching in an open learning environment results in a multiplicity of opinions and ideas about appropriate and efficacious teaching and learning. In this sense, openness authorised a variety of views about the relationships between context, teaching and learning.

Nevertheless, it is possible to draw some conclusions about how teachers, as new inhabitants of open learning environments, recognise and reconcile the intentions and authorisations of the buildings with conventional routines and practice. By drawing on the literature and the findings, it is possible to identify how modern architectural versions of the open classroom authorise different approaches to teaching.

Openness as generative

Activity that occurs within open space is a function of how the teachers perceive configured authorisations as possibilities or constraints. Teachers then have to make choices about how to productively use the space (Musanti and Pence 2010). Multiple perspectives emerge between inhabitants in open space learning environments. Convention and routine becomes dissipated when there are no physically controlling walls. There is a likely tension between individual and neighbourhood space, control and choice, and convention versus flexibility.

Teacher K’s independent learning subject was timetabled to a set of desks in the corner of a large open-plan building. There was no obvious front to the space, no traditional teacher desk and no whiteboard. Students could move about the larger space to use computer workstations or re-arrange soft furnishings to work in a social environment. In this instance, ideas of physical and virtual space, fluidity, transparency, flexibility and social learning emerged to claim a corner of the building.

Open spaces, such as those reported in the case study, were seen as a positive contrast to being ‘locked’ into classrooms or being ‘tied’ to one set of students. Yet strong memories persisted among teachers of routine and security associated with conventionally walled classrooms. Compared with a traditional school experience, the open spaces must have seemed vast, empty and industrial. The physical absence of what was understood to be school gave rise to a sense of school-lessness: dislocation and anxiety about how to achieve the purposes of a teacher’s institutionally placed work. These tensions are both generative and disruptive to the process of teaching and learning. The resulting school-less spaces risk becoming irrelevant to the purposes of teaching. Teaching is a complicated activity, and the complexity increases when the basis for making decisions about teaching and learning becomes uncertain.

One example was the possibilities of teaching in neighbourhoods. The intention of the neighbourhood is to authorise team teaching and to move the local responsibility from one teacher and 25 students to a community of three teachers and at least 75 students. This duality of dislocation and possibility was afforded by the physical learning space. Each teacher potentially became responsible for all of the students within the space. Idealism, imagination and abstraction characterised the thinking about neighbourhoods, with the result that several temporary iterations of teaching practice emerged simultaneously across and within the schools.

Practical teaching knowledge is not only informed by conventional experience and tradition, but by current contextual interactions, and is refined when planning for tomorrow (Clandinin 1985). Teachers want to make sense of, and impose order upon, new learning environments and technological possibilities. They want to know what works, and how this translates to teaching practice. Taking advantage of the possibilities of flexible space might mean increased interactions which have inherent risks to other inhabitants. These risks include a lack of privacy and a sense of exposure, disruptive noise and over-stimulation, which impact on task performance and individual stress (Davis et al. 2011).

Adaptation: possibility versus practicality

Table 1 shows the interplay between architectural expressions and authorisations of openness and potential teacher practice adaptations. This model frames the relationship between disciplinary perspectives of architecture and education, between space and teaching. It is a limited representation because the complexity of this relationship is only partially identified. Architecture and education each has a disciplinary narrative, and this model is a simple elaboration of one intersection of these narratives, relating to a singular set of contextual circumstances. Table 1 represents an account of interactions between a limited set of teachers and the possibilities constituted in the open-plan classroom environment, while acknowledging the constraining influence of institutional routine and culture. The model characterised the relationship between abstraction and practice choices, which could inform other practitioners’ thinking and activities. The model does not suggest that space determines pedagogy, but suggests a possible interplay between these two meta-constructs. The implication is that space and pedagogy become, at certain moments, part of an extended narrative of practice.

Table 1 Teacher adaptive choices as a reaction to architectural expressions of openness
Full size table

The hybrid teaching strategies in Table 1 come from teachers’ imaginative translation of the openness concept. Hybrid pedagogy can be characterised as a temporally and conceptually-sensitive adaptation. While the abstract nature of openness affords a multiplicity of possibilities, these must be balanced with the practicalities and routines of school-based teaching. Each teacher will make an intentional choice about their teaching, balancing routine with difference.

It is not surprising that teachers attempted to blend conventional and different ways of teaching and learning. Indeed, open spaces allow multiple interpretations, including continuing routine practice (Kanekar 2010). New practice tended to be anchored in conventional routines, such as giving students more control over where they worked as long as it was within sight of any teacher within the building. There was awareness of what the architecture of the open spaces prompted, as well as what was missing. This translated into maintaining conventional control and influence over student learning, perhaps including imaginary re-walling, and simultaneous experimentation with different approaches and models.

For example, when the students were not walled in, there was concern about how to ‘contain’ them. The design of the open spaces included multiple exit and entry points. The initial response of the teachers was to lock down these doorways and only allow one or two to be used. Student classes were also timetabled to particular corners or identifiable spaces marked out by lockers or by facing a set of desks towards a particular wall. This demonstrates how traditions and conventions play an important part in teacher practice (Desforges 1995).

The new neighbourhood classrooms could simultaneously afford “new ways of conceiving space and inventive ways of occupying these spaces; in turn causing despair and a lack of hope for ‘normality’ … but also exposing, like an open wound … the controlling forms …” of the old school buildings (Kanekar 2010, p. 773). The openness concept prompts hybrid ways of teaching; a duality of holding onto and questioning institutional routines and memories (Usher 2002). This imaginative questioning and situated reformulation of day-to-day routine practice is perhaps a primary affordance of openness. This demonstrates how openness grounds thinking between institutional routine and possible individual action. It could be argued that openness affords teacher agency. Yet, the model does not suggest a resolution of the interaction between space and pedagogy that is either absolute or invariant across contexts. It does, however, call for the framing of teacher action within open spaces as a potentially meaningful intersection between pedagogical and architectural narratives.

Conclusion

The influence of openness as an affordance for hybrid pedagogy is increasingly evident in contemporary schools. Educational ideas, including personalised learning, distributed expertise, collective intelligence, self-regulated learning and mobile learning, have openness in their genetic lineage. Likewise, democracy, inclusion, autonomy and flexibility constitute architectural conceptions of open space. It is argued that openness authorises critique, experimentation and disruption to conventional school design and routine teacher activity.

The case study allowed an examination of how teachers adapt as they move into new school buildings shaped by the concept of openness. One conclusion drawn from the case study is that, because of the physical and pedagogical openness of these buildings, it was difficult to achieve a mature system indicated by coherent pedagogical practice, a shared culture and mutuality between teacher and student learning. Rather, there was a continous process of negotiation, evident in hybrid practice, as teachers made sense of how to respond efficiently and effectively to the affordances of open learning environments. While this paper has a limited focus on teacher adaptation, ongoing research regarding open classroom spaces needs to consider how students make sense of openness in learning environments. In particular, attention should be given to how teachers and students mutually negotiate the permeable boundaries of learning spaces. Further case studies are also required that detail changes to teacher pedagogy as a result of longer term habitation of open spaces. Specific questioning of the relationship between learning space, pedagogy and high-quality student learning outcomes would be a useful focus of future studies.

While the openness concept is one driver of the re-imagining of teaching and learning, questions continue to emerge about the authority, possession and purpose of the open classroom. These questions and related tensions between routine and possible practice are grounded in the day-to-day activity of teaching and learning within open space. The imagining and enactment of routine and alternative activity are simultaneous. This increases the intensity of teaching and learning, as adaptive choices have to be continually made between conventional and hybrid practice. These choices are not mutually exclusive. In sum, while the architecture of learning environments raises questions about teaching and learning practices, it provides not ready answers but only a hothouse for ideas (Attlee 2007).