Graduates, Faculty and Friends...
I am both honored and surprised to be here today in my present
capacity. Here I am, an engineer, receiving an honorary degree
from an Art and Design school. The formal reason I've been asked
here is for my contributions to computer graphics technology.
But the fact that I am here is significant for a number of other
interesting reasons, all of which have to do with the evolving
relationship between Art and Science in our society.
First, although the faculty and administration may not be aware
of it, is the fact that in a sense I am an alumnus of the New
School. In 1976, when I was a graduate student in the Engineering
School of the University of Utah, I spent the summer on Long Island
working at the New York Institute of Technology where I was a
member of a research group which laid many of the foundations
of modern computer animation. And each week my fellow computer
graphics engineers and I would come in to the city and attend
a course at the New School called The History of Animation, taught
by Leonard Maltin. This is an example of the interest that we
engineers have always had in the art and craft of computer graphics
as well as the mathematics and electronics of it.
The Second point of significance of my being here is the fact
that I was involved in the process of another design school getting
into computer graphics, The Art Center Center College of Design
in Pasadena. Back in 1983 I taught a first course in computer
graphics at the Art Center. We had three Atari home game computers
with screen resolutions of 160 by 120 pixels, and 16 colors per
pixel. Since there was no software a friend of mine and I sat
up each Wednesday night writing programs in a language called
Basic for the students to feed data through. The course content
was actually pretty broad. The students used a joystick based
painting program, they designed video game characters to be made
out of an 8x8 array of pixels, They had to use the keyboard to
type in x's and o's to enter the shapes into the computer. Our
program would then overlay the characters onto their painted backgrounds
and allow them to drive them around with the joystick. The students
sketched 3D shapes on graph paper and counted up the boxes to
get 3D coordinates. They used a word processor to type in numerical
coordinate data and our programs would display and rotate the
shapes on the screen. (And I learned many lessons about how easy
it is for artists to find bugs in programs.) The fact that we
got students to put up with these crude user interfaces to produce
equally crude images is an example of the interest that the designers
had in the then untested and, to some, unpromising prospects of
computer graphics.
In the past hears, the concept of using computers to create art
and design has gone from being a crazy idea to a standard technique.
Computer graphics is now cheap and powerful enough to satisfy
the exacting meeds of digital pre-press and Hollywood special
effects. We talk casually of images thousands of pixels on a side
and image files in the tens of megabytes. It is now no more unusual
to expect that a graphic designer know how to use a computer
than to expect them to know how to use a telephone.
But I think that the most important result of the computer graphics
revolution is not that it has provided better tools for artists.
It concerns what has happened to the people involved. Engineers
who make artists tools have had to learn what artists DO. When
they try to mathematically simulate lighting they've been motivated
to go art museums. When they try to mathematically simulate trees
and clouds they've been motivated to actually go out and look
at nature. Now, consider the artists and designers. They now wallow
in operating system version numbers and file format conversion
programs. Many designers write their own programs to produce unique
effects. And I think that most of them have come to appreciate
that mathematical equations can stand for geometric shapes. And
that mathematics can be as beautiful as sculpture. I think that
the most important result of the computer graphics revolution
is that it has helped heal the gulf between Art and Science.
And how about my own personal odyssey through this? For the first
16 years of my career I spent my time developing the tools of
computer graphics. But then I realized that few people remember
who invented oil paints; most people remember the artists who
use them. So for the past 12 years I have been using tools rather
than building them. In my current projects I've become a graphical
designer. I spend more time picking colors and balancing compositions
that I do writing equations. Part of the reason I have been able
to do this is that the creative process of mathematics and art
are more similar than is realized by those who do only one or
the other. In his book "The Illusion of Life" on of
the great Disney animators Frank Thomas refers to the art of animation
as problem solving. His problems were how to communicate the emotions
and motivations of his characters, how to draw the eye to certain
actions and so forth. This was a great revelation to me. I has
always thought of problem solving in purely mathematical terms.
But now I see it in more general terms.
So, now that the majority of the technical problems in computer
graphics have been solved, I believe that the future belongs to
those like yourselves who can actually use these tools to teach,
to tell a story, to communicate, to bring joy. And now that I
have been officially certified as being an artist, I'm proud to
be one of you.