In my Art Academy programme, which I run at Siedmiu Krasnoludków, we have a rule. Before a Child starts an art project, we first go with them to the forest, to the park, to the garden. They touch. They gather. They smell. They look closely at things others would walk past without notice. A piece of tree bark. The scale of a pinecone. Wet moss. A dry leaf. A cracked acorn. Each of these objects finds its place in the backpack and comes back with us to the studio.
And only there does the art begin. Not from a tube of paint. Not from a ready-made cardboard in the colour they have been assigned. From something real — that the Child holds in their hand, feels the texture of, that has its own story. From something that has grown. From something that has sheltered an insect. From something that comes from a forest the Child may never visit in their life.
In this text I want to talk about why natural materials are for me the most important pedagogical tool in Art Academy. And why children who learn art through nature are at the same time learning English more deeply and more confidently than children learning it in a traditional classroom.
What Art Academy is
A short introduction for those hearing about my programme for the first time. Art Academy is an original art-and-language programme I created for our Krasnoludki years ago. It joins two things that are traditionally treated separately — art and the learning of English.
The principle is simple: during the sessions I speak only English. The children hear English in a natural context — when I ask for a brush, when I admire their work, when I suggest they try something. There is no translation. There is no “and now I will say this in Polish”. There is full immersion — as if the Child had suddenly found themselves in an English home.
The second element is even more important. What we do together in the sessions is not language exercises. It is real art. We paint. We model. We cut. We make collages. We experiment with materials. Each Child has their own work, their own choice, their own interpretation. English comes along the way — but its learning is full, because the Child uses it in a situation that matters to them.
This model — language learning through art — is backed by years of pedagogical research. It is called “CLIL” (Content and Language Integrated Learning). Children learning in this model reach a higher level of language, remember it better, have less fear of speaking. Because their brain registers English as a language of action — not as a school subject.
Why nature
In Art Academy we have at our disposal all the standard art materials — paints, crayons, plasticine, paper, glues. We use them. But my obsession — and the children know this — is natural materials. Something that cannot be bought in a shop. Something that has to be found.
Why? I have several reasons, which I will explain below.
First — sensory input. Every natural material has a unique texture, smell, weight. A piece of tree bark is rough, dry, smells of resin. Moss is soft, slightly wet, smells of earth. A leaf is smooth, fragile, weighs almost nothing. Each of these materials stimulates the Child’s senses differently. And for a brain at preschool age the richness of sensory experience is directly nourishing — it builds neurons, builds connections, builds the capacity to recognise the world.
Second — uniqueness. Standard materials are uniform. Every crayon of the same colour is identical. Every paper has neatly cut edges. Every block of plasticine is exactly like another. The world of mass-produced materials is, in a sense, poor for the Child — it does not teach them that things can be different.
Natural materials are entirely different. Every piece of bark is different. Every leaf has its own shape. Every pinecone has a different pattern. Working with them, the Child learns that two similar objects can still differ. That they can be compared. That rules can be discovered. These are the foundations of mathematical and scientific thinking.
Third — ecology. Here I want to be honest — I think building in the Child a bond with nature from the earliest years matters. A Child who has touched real bark remembers that a tree is a living being. A Child who has never had a piece of moss in their hand treats the forest as an abstraction. The difference between these two children twenty years later — when they make life, professional, political decisions — will be enormous.
Fourth — and to me most important — nature inspires. A Child who has a piece of bark in front of them begins to look differently than if they had a tube of paint in front of them. They ask. They investigate. They try. They have within them a natural curiosity that no most beautiful set of crayons will awaken. And once curiosity is awake — learning takes care of itself. Regardless of whether we are teaching painting or English.
What we specifically do with tree bark
Let me describe specifically what a session with tree bark looks like, because it is one of my favourite projects. It shows everything I love about Art Academy.
We begin with an expedition. We go to Skaryszewski Park — the closest park to us in Praga Południe — with a big backpack and a list of things to find. The list is in English. “Find a piece of bark. Find moss. Find an acorn. Find a leaf with five points.” The children do not read — they hear me say it and run off to look. The first time they are confused. The second time they already know what to look for. The third time they run with joy, because finally this English means something to them.
Each Child gathers their own collection. Some find a piece of bark the size of a hand. Others — whole twigs. Some — only tiny shavings, but from several different trees. Each collection is different. And each is, for the Child, a personal treasure.
We go back to the studio. The tables are prepared — white sheets, glues, water, sponges, a few brushes. But there are no paints. Because today we are painting with bark.
Yes, with bark. I explain to the children — we dip a piece of bark in water and then drag it across the sheet. The bark leaves a trace — sometimes brown, sometimes grey, sometimes almost black, depending on the tree and the moisture. The children begin to experiment. “Look! Mine is dark!” — calls one of them, excited. “And mine is reddish” — replies another. The English conversation begins on its own, because the children have to share their discoveries.
Some children stop at the bark traces. Others add leaves to it — sticking them on with glue. Others still scatter shavings of moss, which we have set out in a small bowl. Each work is different. Each is unique. Each carries within it a piece of real forest.
And — what matters — each is an opportunity for an English conversation. I ask the children what they have created. The children answer — sometimes with a word, sometimes with a sentence, sometimes only with a gesture. Every word they have spoken is registered in my head. And in theirs.
What a Child builds when they paint with bark
Now I want to talk about what is, for me as a teacher, most important. Because tree bark, the forest, moss — these are tools. The goal is elsewhere. The goal is in what is happening in the Child’s head.
The first thing — a bond with nature. Every Child who has worked for an hour with real materials from the forest comes home with something they did not have before — a concrete, physical, sensory memory. The next time they see a forest, they will not see it as a backdrop. They will see it as a place from which something came into their hand. The forest will become personal to them.
This is the foundation that in adult life is called “ecological awareness”. It cannot be built through lectures. It cannot be built through posters. It can only be built through real, physical contact. A Child who has held a piece of real bark in their hand will, as an adult, behave differently towards a tree, a forest, the environment. This is not sentimental thinking — this is pedagogical truth.
The second thing — English anchored in experience. The words “bark”, “moss”, “leaf”, “acorn” the Child gets to know in full context — with touch, smell, meaning in the real world. These words will never blur for them. Because they were not learned from a worksheet — they are rooted in body memory. After twenty years, when my present preschoolers are adults, most of the English words learned at school will fade. But “bark” and “moss” will remain. Because they were learned with the whole body.
The third thing — experimental attitude. A Child who paints with bark does something no one has shown them. There is no instruction “how to paint with tree bark”. There is no template. Each Child has to discover for themselves how it works. How to wet the bark. How to move it. How to combine it with other materials. Each of them is a scientist-experimenter. And each learns this stance — the stance of trying, checking, mixing without instruction. This is the stance used in adult life in every creative profession. Programmer, designer, scientist, doctor — all of them experiment. Children who for four years have worked with tree bark have it in their blood.
The fourth thing — humility before the material. Here I want to be honest, because this is a topic pedagogy rarely touches. Working with a natural material, the Child has to learn to respect its features. Bark cracks if bent too hard. A leaf crumbles if too quickly. Moss falls apart if squeezed too tightly. Each of these materials teaches the Child that the world has its own rules — that cannot be changed by wishing.
This is a lesson that a standard block of plasticine does not give. Plasticine bends as we wish. Bark — does not. Bark is itself. And the Child has to learn it. This teaches them humility before reality. And humility before reality is one of the most important adult competences.
What a Parent can do at home
You do not need to have an Art Academy to work at home with natural materials. Every street has trees. Every park has autumn. Every walk can be a pretext.
The first practice — a daily “treasure expedition”. Coming home from a walk with the Child, please stop and gather. One leaf. One conker. One pinecone. One twig. Let the Child have in their backpack their own stash. At home it can be put in a special box — “the box of nature treasures”.
The second practice — joint art from these treasures. Once a week, on Saturday or Sunday, you can invite the Child to create. A large sheet of paper, glue, possibly paint for accents, are enough. Let the Child arrange their treasures, as much as they want, how they want, in whatever composition they want. The finished work can hang on the fridge. The next week another will appear.
The third practice — English in passing. If you know even a little English, you can repeat simple words when the Child finds something. “Look, a leaf. What colour is it?” “A pinecone. So small!” These moments of micro-immersion are valuable for the Child. The Child does not need to understand every word — it is enough that they hear. The brain orders this on its own.
The fourth practice — thematic excursions. Forest, meadow, botanical garden, zoo. The more different environments, the more different materials. A Child who in a year has visited five different forests has in memory five different types of bark, moss, undergrowth. This is the foundation of their natural-history knowledge.
And one more thing, the most important — please do not take away the Child’s pieces of nature. A Child who wants to bring home a conker, a leaf, a twig — let them bring it. Not everything has to be “thrown out, because it’s dirty”. A piece of moss in a pocket is, for the Child, a treasure. Let it remain a treasure.
What this is all for
Because the children who finish Art Academy walk into adulthood with something that cannot be bought. With a sense that nature is close, available, their own. With concrete English words rooted in body memory. With the stance of an experimenter who is not afraid to try. With a love for what is real, factual, organic.
We know that not all of our Krasnoludki will become artists or biologists. Some will become doctors, others accountants, still others teachers. Each will find their place. But each of them, regardless of profession, will keep within them the memory of how tree bark smells, how moss breaks under the fingers, how a leaf in autumn changes colour.
This memory is a gift. Because an adult who remembers the touch of nature from childhood, in adult life at some moment returns to that memory. Maybe in stress, maybe in fatigue, maybe on the first holiday trip into nature. And they feel they are at home here. That all of this they already know. That the forest is not foreign to them.
And this is an invaluable gift. In a world that ever more distances the Child from nature — through screens, through concrete, through plastic — giving them real bark, real moss, a real leaf is an act of pedagogical rebellion. A rebellion that I, as a teacher, choose every day. And which I would not exchange for any other model of education.