By Kim Darling
Years ago, when I had recently finished my study of painting at the Art Students League of New York and was working hard in my studio to further develop my skills and voice, I had a conversation with my father that has stuck with me through the years. My father is a physicist who worked for the navy, programming and using computers from the time that they were gargantuan machines, filling large rooms. Those computers were programmed using punched cards of heavy paper, and my first drawings were made on discarded punch cards. I wish I still had some of those drawings. They would be interesting artifacts of the early days of the technology that I use today.

Art-making is a human endeavor, whether using a piece of charcoal, a brush and paint; clay; a camera and darkroom; or computer hardware and software. It is in the interface between human intention, tools and materials that ideas are manipulated, and it is the artifacts of that process that are shared as "art". With some tools, such as a brush, the interface between human brain, hand and artifact is fairly direct, seemingly simple to understand - and innately human. We humans have been making marks with intended meaning for a long time. With complex technologies, the tool itself sometimes influences the form of the artifact to such an extent that its very hard to know how much of the work can be attributed to a specific artist's ideas, and how much of what we are seeing is that which a program was designed by someone else - or by numerous other people - to do. When I first began employing complex programs, like Photoshop, in my work, I would see all those names of the developers of the program come up when the program was opening, and I felt like they were all unknowing collaborators in my work. I've stopped noticing that - this complex arrangement of digital switches has become like a piece of charcoal to me in some sense - and I'm not sure what that means.

The changing admission-portfolio requirements of post-secondary schools over the past ten-or-so years reflect an evolving understanding of the relationship between traditional art media and "new" media. Ten years ago drawings and paintings included in portfolios might be made from observation of life - but work that was copied from a photograph or traced and filled in was just as acceptable to schools, as was an image produced entirely from the imagination. A variety of media - sculpture, collage, pottery, and photography - was acceptable and encouraged, for showing a student's diversity of experience. A few years ago most schools began to require the bulk of a portfolio to be drawings made from direct observation, which seemed to be evidence of a growing understanding of the importance of drawing as a foundation for other visual work, as well as a response to the large number of works schools were receiving that had a technology-derived finished quality to them, making it difficult for evaluators to understand how much of the production of the work was due to the student's own efforts and abilities, and how much was due to technology. Over the past few years, schools have required evidence of highly developed visual problem-solving skills through drawing, and they have discouraged technology-created artwork - even for entry into computer-design related programs. However, from talking to students in these schools, it became obvious that, after entry into the programs, very little emphasis was placed on drawing itself. The attitude seemed to be: you've got that as a foundation, now we'll teach you the real, important stuff.

Here is the way I see these changing cultural positions in relationship to art and technology playing out in my high school students. When planning individual projects and exhibitions, students increasingly want to use sophisticated technologies - particularly video and digital photography. I encourage this, but almost always find that the students know less than they think they know about creating quality work with digital media. Programs like iMovie that are designed for ease of use with minimal involvement with learning about the how and why of the way they work lead students into a false sense of proficiency. They can make a video that their friends think is great and, with a keystroke, upload it to YouTube, but they know almost nothing about video production and editing. They commit themselves to complex projects, then they realize the unbelievable amount of work that is ahead of them. They lose hard-earned video clips because they don't understand what exporting a file is - and they have little sense of how to adequately save and back up their work. They crash their computers because they have no conception of the size files that they are working with - and that in the process of editing they are duplicating those huge files over and over again.
A couple of years ago I was questioning the value of teaching complex technologies within a high school art program. Our place seemed to be more in developing solid foundation skills - and particularly, drawing skills - that would place our students in a strong position for continued work in whatever medium they chose, as well as keep them competitive in the college admissions process. I think that our job has recently become harder. While solid traditional art-making skills are more important than ever, so is a working knowledge of technology. And as popular image manipulation and video editing software increasingly provide easy templates for maneuvers that simulate professional work, we need to be sure that students are gaining a basic understanding of file handling and sharing, and we need to provide real professional software to students to learn and to use, so they aren't confined to the moves that are built into popular software programs.
Again -
A paintbrush is a tool, and so is a computer.
Images:
Mannequins withTV heads, by Yemaya Briggs-Guzman
Projected video, which included a video including interviews with the St. Johnsbury Academy kitchen staff, by Hanley Chu