Arts: Features
Of Pixels and Paint
Ringling's brand new computer labs are full, but not everybody on campus is excited.
Published 09.20.2006
http://sarasota.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/of_pixels_and_paint/Content?oid=91988
http://sarasota.creativeloafing.com/gyrobase/of_pixels_and_paint/Content?oid=91988
When Zach Bova's parents and grandparents decided to shell out for art school, they made him promise to send work home for them to enjoy.
After three years toiling at Ringling School of Art and Design, he mailed his junior year project: a three-minute DVD of a cartoon character pushing a cardboard box across the floor of a surf shop.
It wasn't exactly something his family could hang on the living room wall, or set on the mantle, but fewer and fewer art school students' projects are these days. The spread of technology into institutions like Ringling has transformed the classrooms, ambitions and opportunities of today's young artists. Students are forsaking cheap warehouse studios in New York for cush jobs at Pixar or Dreamworks.
"It seems like fine arts is going downhill," said Jakub Mysiak, a Ringling sophomore majoring in computer animation. "You never hear about it." Sarasota's premier art school is at the forefront of this high-tech shift. Former Disney employees are flocking to professorships in computer animation and -- fulfilling every teenage boy's fantasy -- the school will launch its video game art major next year. But tensions are brewing amid the sleek rows of iMacs and CG Render Form machines. Some fine arts students and faculty say they don't get the level of attention, or financial support, that their digital counterparts receive. Moreover, there's more to artistic expression than finding a job, they say. "Like cattle, [students] are channeled into programs without ever experiencing art," said John-Timothy Pizzuto, who quit his job as a Core curriculum professor a few months ago. But Ringling wasn't always, as President Larry Thompson calls it, the "MIT of art schools."
It was founded in 1931 as a traditional arts institution. Curricula only turned toward technology over the last decade, in keeping with national trends. "Only about five schools in the country teach the crafts only or the arts only -- and even they're not ignoring the importance of bringing technology into the studio," said Bill Barrett, executive director of the Association of Independent Colleges of Art and Design.
Barrett traces the proliferation of hi-tech art programs back to the mid-1980s, "when the Macintosh computer started costing less." Industry fervor for these new departments started ramping up during the next decade while Disney introduced youngsters to the wonders of digital animation and Nintendo revved its engines.
"Now it's a herd mentality," Barrett said. "Everyone's interested."Including Ringling.
An aggressive campaign for technological acquisition has kicked into effect over the past four years, with an already substantial computer animation department nearly tripling its student enrollment, two new majors (Video Game & Design and Digital Film) opening in 2007, and a brand new facility treating animators to over 150 high-end computers. Add this to a substantial influx of faculty from Pixar, Blue Sky Studios and Electronic Arts (EA), and Ringling is leading kids into an astounding number of tech jobs. With the guidance of career counselor Phyllis Schaele, at least 15 graduating seniors landed jobs with EA last year.
"Ringling has a reputation for turning out top artistic talent," said Jack Lew, university relations officer at the top games distributor. "We know whoever we recruit will be well-prepared -- and more important, creative in storytelling." Despite the stream of digital headhunters scouring campus, not everyone is pleased with Ringling's transformation. The technology boom has aggravated some more traditional artists on campus -- or worse, made them feel downright underappreciated. "Most people I know only use computers for reference," said Carl Pomposelli, a junior majoring in painting. "We all joke that the computer animation majors think they're the pride and joy of the school." And he's got proof. "Just see the labs -- that'll open your eyes."
This year, the computer animation department traded in its old digs at the Center for Innovation and Collaboration for the new attention-grabbing, five-story Student Life Building. "My friends want to know why we're not getting new space for paintings and easels," Pomposelli said. Defending investment in technology, President Thompson said that students simply don't know the school's history. "Until two years ago, the worst places on campus were the computer animation labs," he countered. Not everyone in the fine arts is upset with the school's new focus. Interim chair of the Fine Arts department Mark Anderson says all artists need technology -- whether they like it or not. "Frankly, knowing how to use a computer is essential for making it even as a traditional artist," he said, adding that most of his department's most successful graduates have been the tech-friendly ones. But other faculty members say the school shouldn't rob aspiring artists of the chance to experiment with more tactile pursuits. An area of particular contention is the school's Core Studio Program, a compulsory series of classes -- most of them focused on more traditional arts -- for incoming freshmen. While a typical first year will include a smattering of courses in the student's chosen major, much time is spent fulfilling basic requisites like figure drawing and three-dimensional design. Over the past two years, Ringling's once-sacrosanct Core became a logistical sore spot for the school, as more and more students opted out of its requirements so they could get started on their animation and digital imaging tracks earlier. Amid ever-shrinking orientation classes and Core advocates' pleas for greater student enrollment, the passive-aggressive sparks began to fly. "The problem," says Pizutto, who recently left his Core professorship, "is people not directly involved in the [Core] program don't know where students are when they start." As he sees it, kids from high school "can't wait to get into computers and animation," but it's only a matter of time before they realize that conceptual skills may be as vital to their success as mastering Flash and ProTools. And an early defection for computer classes could mean big-picture losses for the institution. The image is dismal, sure, but it spotlights a growing dilemma now facing many American art institutions as they keep pace with the technological times. As they grow increasingly pre-professional, many schools must reassess their educational philosophy -- and aspiring artists must revise their views of one another. While making a living as a painter may be as difficult as ever, Barrett says fine arts students should realize there are drawbacks to being a career techie as well. In an ultra-competitive environment, the risk of burnout is daunting. "It's a very seductive medium, but one of the realities of tech stuff is there aren't that many people doing the most creative work," he said. "Most are in the bullpen with huge turnover."
After three years toiling at Ringling School of Art and Design, he mailed his junior year project: a three-minute DVD of a cartoon character pushing a cardboard box across the floor of a surf shop.
It wasn't exactly something his family could hang on the living room wall, or set on the mantle, but fewer and fewer art school students' projects are these days. The spread of technology into institutions like Ringling has transformed the classrooms, ambitions and opportunities of today's young artists. Students are forsaking cheap warehouse studios in New York for cush jobs at Pixar or Dreamworks.
"It seems like fine arts is going downhill," said Jakub Mysiak, a Ringling sophomore majoring in computer animation. "You never hear about it." Sarasota's premier art school is at the forefront of this high-tech shift. Former Disney employees are flocking to professorships in computer animation and -- fulfilling every teenage boy's fantasy -- the school will launch its video game art major next year. But tensions are brewing amid the sleek rows of iMacs and CG Render Form machines. Some fine arts students and faculty say they don't get the level of attention, or financial support, that their digital counterparts receive. Moreover, there's more to artistic expression than finding a job, they say. "Like cattle, [students] are channeled into programs without ever experiencing art," said John-Timothy Pizzuto, who quit his job as a Core curriculum professor a few months ago. But Ringling wasn't always, as President Larry Thompson calls it, the "MIT of art schools."
It was founded in 1931 as a traditional arts institution. Curricula only turned toward technology over the last decade, in keeping with national trends. "Only about five schools in the country teach the crafts only or the arts only -- and even they're not ignoring the importance of bringing technology into the studio," said Bill Barrett, executive director of the Association of Independent Colleges of Art and Design.
Barrett traces the proliferation of hi-tech art programs back to the mid-1980s, "when the Macintosh computer started costing less." Industry fervor for these new departments started ramping up during the next decade while Disney introduced youngsters to the wonders of digital animation and Nintendo revved its engines.
"Now it's a herd mentality," Barrett said. "Everyone's interested."Including Ringling.
An aggressive campaign for technological acquisition has kicked into effect over the past four years, with an already substantial computer animation department nearly tripling its student enrollment, two new majors (Video Game & Design and Digital Film) opening in 2007, and a brand new facility treating animators to over 150 high-end computers. Add this to a substantial influx of faculty from Pixar, Blue Sky Studios and Electronic Arts (EA), and Ringling is leading kids into an astounding number of tech jobs. With the guidance of career counselor Phyllis Schaele, at least 15 graduating seniors landed jobs with EA last year.
"Ringling has a reputation for turning out top artistic talent," said Jack Lew, university relations officer at the top games distributor. "We know whoever we recruit will be well-prepared -- and more important, creative in storytelling." Despite the stream of digital headhunters scouring campus, not everyone is pleased with Ringling's transformation. The technology boom has aggravated some more traditional artists on campus -- or worse, made them feel downright underappreciated. "Most people I know only use computers for reference," said Carl Pomposelli, a junior majoring in painting. "We all joke that the computer animation majors think they're the pride and joy of the school." And he's got proof. "Just see the labs -- that'll open your eyes."
This year, the computer animation department traded in its old digs at the Center for Innovation and Collaboration for the new attention-grabbing, five-story Student Life Building. "My friends want to know why we're not getting new space for paintings and easels," Pomposelli said. Defending investment in technology, President Thompson said that students simply don't know the school's history. "Until two years ago, the worst places on campus were the computer animation labs," he countered. Not everyone in the fine arts is upset with the school's new focus. Interim chair of the Fine Arts department Mark Anderson says all artists need technology -- whether they like it or not. "Frankly, knowing how to use a computer is essential for making it even as a traditional artist," he said, adding that most of his department's most successful graduates have been the tech-friendly ones. But other faculty members say the school shouldn't rob aspiring artists of the chance to experiment with more tactile pursuits. An area of particular contention is the school's Core Studio Program, a compulsory series of classes -- most of them focused on more traditional arts -- for incoming freshmen. While a typical first year will include a smattering of courses in the student's chosen major, much time is spent fulfilling basic requisites like figure drawing and three-dimensional design. Over the past two years, Ringling's once-sacrosanct Core became a logistical sore spot for the school, as more and more students opted out of its requirements so they could get started on their animation and digital imaging tracks earlier. Amid ever-shrinking orientation classes and Core advocates' pleas for greater student enrollment, the passive-aggressive sparks began to fly. "The problem," says Pizutto, who recently left his Core professorship, "is people not directly involved in the [Core] program don't know where students are when they start." As he sees it, kids from high school "can't wait to get into computers and animation," but it's only a matter of time before they realize that conceptual skills may be as vital to their success as mastering Flash and ProTools. And an early defection for computer classes could mean big-picture losses for the institution. The image is dismal, sure, but it spotlights a growing dilemma now facing many American art institutions as they keep pace with the technological times. As they grow increasingly pre-professional, many schools must reassess their educational philosophy -- and aspiring artists must revise their views of one another. While making a living as a painter may be as difficult as ever, Barrett says fine arts students should realize there are drawbacks to being a career techie as well. In an ultra-competitive environment, the risk of burnout is daunting. "It's a very seductive medium, but one of the realities of tech stuff is there aren't that many people doing the most creative work," he said. "Most are in the bullpen with huge turnover."
©1996-2008 Creative Loafing Media - All Rights Reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment