Undergraduate and Masters Programs
Let’s assume that you’ve made the decision to attend art school.
It is expensive, and unless you are specializing in an applied field—such as graphic design or commercial photography—after graduation it can be difficult to sustain oneself in one’s chosen field. There will always be opportunities for talented artists, but not in the same numbers as in other professions. At the same time, the need for artists is real. Someone has to take that step.
If you are that person—or if you know someone who is—I recommend Advice to Young Artists in a Postmodern Era by William V. Dunning. Despite its title, the book is not about theory. It is about how to be a good student and how to make the most of your time in school. Like many fields, art is competitive, and students will want to enter prepared.
One might ask whether attending art school is necessary at all. In theory, it is not. There have been other models of study and apprenticeship. But as a practical matter, when looking at work shown in major galleries in New York City, it is rare to find artists under 60 without some form of formal art education—most often at the graduate level.
What makes graduate school so important? From the perspective of one’s career, it provides access, opportunity, and community. Most programs have lecture series that bring in prominent artists, gallerists, and curators, often five to ten each semester. Typically, the lecturer will make a presentation to the entire student body and afterwards meet individually with graduate students. These meetings can lead to studio assistant positions, recommendations, introductions, and other opportunities to those who are ready.
The faculty of the school itself can be a significant resource after graduation. And the relationships formed among classmates provide an initial and often lasting source of support and feedback. These connections tend to be deeper at the graduate level than they are in less rigorous courses of study.
For aspiring artists who have degrees in other fields, graduate school provides a way to catch up to their B.F.A. peers. Sometimes a year or two of preparation is all that is needed to put together a successful application. For these students, graduate school also offers something they may not have experienced before: sustained attention on art-making, free of distraction.
Networking, in this context, is often misunderstood. It is not a strategy so much as a condition. When people with shared interests and commitments work in proximity over time, connections form naturally. The educational environment—and the process of learning—is inherently social. To participate fully in that environment is, in effect, what networking is.
In recent years, many online programs have been developed offering degrees. Unless they can replicate the informal and ongoing aspects of in-person study—late conversations, time in shared spaces, the experience of being immersed in a community—an essential part of the educational experience will be missing.
At the same time, there are forms of preparation that can be effectively undertaken outside of that environment. For those considering graduate study—particularly those without a background in photography—developing a foundation beforehand can make a significant difference. A number of students I have worked with in this way have gone on to enroll in graduate programs, often coming from other fields and without prior formal training in photography.
The distinction is not between online and in-person learning as such, but between what each is able to provide. The development of a way of seeing, and an understanding of how photographs function, can take place in a focused and structured online setting. But when the time comes to enter a professional field, the benefits of sustained, in-person engagement—with peers, faculty, and a broader community—become essential.
The Grammar Sequence is designed to provide this kind of foundation.