Throughout our formal education and worldly experience as visual communicators, did we ever suspect that our careers might be futuristically conditioned by a CRAY Y-MP C90 supercomputer, loaded with two gigabytes of central memory and 16 CPUs for the ultimate combined peak performance of 16 gigaflops? . . . or that, in the wake of our rush to confront a new millennium, our self-appointed-in-the-know-techie-oracles would predict that soon, five billion users will access the Internet?
I vividly recall a raucous debate regarding whether Macintosh computer technology impinged upon the rights of those who refused the lure of its siren call. The exchange quickly turned ugly, erupting into a standoff between a venerated professor and a wildly experimental graduate student. The context, which was being simultaneously reiterated within other institutions of higher learning, was a graduate critique. Pedagogy, with all the trappings, in the most classic arena. The professor assertively vowed he never would engage computer technology as the medium for his creative work. He argued that the age-old ³nonelectronic paintbrush², as a classical extension of the artist's body and soul, was THE only truly anthropomorphic medium of choice! These were strong words, highly charged with honorable intentions . . . although the sentiment was short-lived. The professor could neither cast off the lure of technology nor the pressure to conform and adapt. In retrospect, I whimsically admire his feeble attempt.
There are still a few among us who staunchly refuse to be "plugged-in." They deserve our respect and awe, as keepers of tradition and craft. Besides, they probably are more rested, while many of us long for slumber particularly when technology fails us and we lose our way . . . or when the Internet invites us on board, for an occasional 2:00 a.m. cruise. It was only relatively recently when a few brave souls dared cross the threshold of the technological abyss that we assumed a defensive stance, against the vociferous naysayers. I have heard the distracted mutterings of otherwise intelligent and talented individuals . . . and witnessed those who engaged in the equivalent sandlot stickball name-calling dispute: Are our computers tools" or "toys"?
It is now commonly accepted that, if capably managed, the practical use of technology for visual communications is cost-effective and productive. If it were otherwise, the bean-counters never would have had their tickets punched, for this joyride. Today, we can celebrate and participate in the requisite spin-offs of the retooling of mass communications. The relative ease of accessibility, to this "Digital Photography 1996" Exhibition, has extended the gallery into your home or workplace. The visual arts formerly housed primarily in protective shrine-like museums for the appreciation and adulation of the most privileged classes may never be viewed in quite the same way, or by the same folks.
As an educator and practicing artist and designer I offer a singular compelling rationale for capitalizing on our various high-tech gizmos, with the masses as beneficiaries: Among the participating members of a global audience, the probability is strong that visual literacy skills will be enhanced. It is particularly inexcusable that in most contemporary American schools, visual education has been nearly abandoned. Testing of verbal and mathematical levels of literacy are the primary vehicles for educational goals assessment. Amidst our cacophonous technological onslaught, we are not insular. We communicate in a multitude of languages. The intrinsic power of visual communication independent from conventional verbal literacy extends the potential for a universally shared "visual voice." As I view the works comprising this exhibition, this optimism is confirmed.
Enjoy the exhibition!
Christie Ferguson Cirone