In
an old building in downtown Manhattan, tomorrow’s media architects
sharpen their skills in surprising ways at NYU’s Interactive
Telecommunications Program
Newsweek Web Exclusive
Updated: 8:50 a.m. ET May 27, 2003
May
27 - Every May there’s a two-night show in New York City, packed with
visitors, that looks like a cross between a science fair, an art
gallery, and a science-fiction movie. It’s New York University’s
semi-annual show for graduate students in its Interactive
Telecommunications Program, housed in the same building as the film
school that launched folks like Scorsese and Spike Lee. Whether you’re
a recruiter for Microsoft, an adventurous art critic, or just someone
who wants a glimpse of the future, the ITP show is a must-see.
advertisement
The
NYU ITP program and MIT’s Media Lab are arguably the Harvard and Yale
of the interactive world. But MIT’s Media Lab has fallen on hard times;
even Wired magazine—once the Media Lab’s number-one cheerleader-sniped
in this month’s issue that “once rock stars, the Media Lab crew has
become a geezer rock band—Lynyrd Skynyrd with pocket protectors.” The
Interactive Telecommunications Program, on the other hand, continues to
thrive, providing what is unquestionably the most unique educational
experience available in interactive design.
Much
of that success has to do with the tutelage of Red Burns, likely one of
the few people in the field who actually qualifies for the shopworn
“visionary” label. Her background in alternative media stretches back
to the early 70s, the days of public-access cable television and the
Sony Portapak, the first portable video camera. And her long-term view
of the interactive world thus informs the curriculum: students here
work not only with keyboards, but with their hands and the real world.
You’re as likely to see a student project that involves, oh, live
cactuses or Barbie dolls as one that’s dependent on the intricacies of
Javascript.
A visit to ITP a few weeks
before this month’s show found a dozen students hard at work in the
Physical Computing Lab, creating final projects. At one bench a
student—who had previously worked as a videogame project manager—was
building a mechanical flower that when approached, opened automatically
and released a fragrance. Another pair of students was casting rubber
apples that would be implanted with electronics and then used by
hospital patients as biofeedback devices to teach control of blood
pressure and stress. Nearby a former philosophy student, who had
previously worked for UNICEF, was building an elaborate drum device
that triggered a smoke machine.
The
Physical Computing Lab, equipped with table saws and belt sanders and
drill presses, looks more like shop class than a spawning ground for
interactive media, and that’s the way Red Burns likes it. When ITP
started in 1979, with a class of 20, the students actually had to build
their own computers. “Partly,” says Burns, “to overcome their fears of
computers.” That’s not a problem with today’s students; most are
already computer literate and when they need a computer for a project,
more often than not it’s all on a single chip. What these students need
instead is a connection to the real world of physical materials.
Programming
is, of course, part of the curriculum, but says Burns, “it’s not about
technology, it’s about what technology does. We’re not an art school,
and we’re not a computer science school.” Students are encouraged to
define “interactivity” as broadly as possible, and it’s clear that
there are few limitations. At one show I saw a project that appeared to
primarily consist of small living plants that the student had passed
around to friends to raise for short periods of time, apparently to
test some theory of networking. And failure is not a problem. “When you
make something that doesn’t work,” Burns said, “that’s fabulous.”
At
this point ITP might begin to sound like the sort of free-form
touchy-feely do-your-own-thing institution that gave alternative
education a bad name in the ’70s and ’80s. But it’s clearly not: the
classes are often rigorous, with names like “The Future of the
Infrastructure” or “Creative Microcomputing” or “Information
Architecture.” (Although other classes sound like distinct departures:
“The Poetics of Virtual Space,” for example, or “Contagious Media.”)
And the competition for entry is intense, with about 230 students
admitted from four times that number of applicants; tuition for most
students is over $20,000 a year. The school requires an undergraduate
degree and Burns prefers that students be out of school five years, but
past that, much is determined on the basis on an application essay and
the student’s background. “We aim for diversity,” says Burns; a recent
class had students ranging from a pediatrician and a journalist to a
lawyer, a filmmaker and a performance artist.
But
what really distinguishes the work at ITP is the number of projects
that remain in one’s mind, even several years after a show. I still
recall, for example, one student who created a video fireworks display
on a plasma screen, meant to hang in a store window. Passersby on the
sidewalk were instructed to dial a number on their cell phones and then
by pressing buttons, they could control the fireworks show as they
watched. Other classic pieces are still displayed in the entrance to
the school’s loft-like, plank-floored offices. One is “Wooden Mirror”,
a 6-foot-tall “mirror” made of 830 small squares of wood, each powered
by a tiny motor. When you stand in front of the mirror a video camera
picks up your image and tilts the corresponding squares of wood to
create what appears to be your “reflection.” Across from the Wooden
Mirror is “Copper Urchin,” a copper ball about the size of a
basketball, extruding long drooping wires like some kind of metallic
sea creature. Run your hands across the wires, and the
somewhat-threatening ball suddenly creates lovely sounds.
Recruiters
from companies like Microsoft and Intel, as well as ad agencies and
media companies, are regular ITP visitors and Burns has alumni
well-placed through the interactive industry; the program itself now
has an international reputation. But for all her experience—or more
likely, because of it—Burns is cautious about predicting the future. “I
see technology beginning to disappear,” she says, “but what continues
to be important is how computers can help people. At ITP, we just have
to redefine ourselves all the time.”