Roaming through the dimly lit halls and computer labs at the DigiPen Institute of Technology, one is reminded of a dot-com during its heyday. Everyone is focused to the point of complete engrossment, eyes riveted to the computer screen, although it looks like the target of all this attention is only a computer game.
These people aren't playing games, though. They're making them, and at DigiPen, making games is homework.
"You really have to work hard to succeed here," says Melvin Gonsalvez, vice president of production-at DigiPen, people's job titles often resemble those found in corporations. "People think that coming here is like playing games all day, and it's not."
The DigiPen course catalog bears him out, with its dry-as-dirt descriptions of the required coursework for DigiPen's two- and four-year Real Time Interactive Simulation (RTIS) programs, and its two-year animation program. The subject matter ranges from computer programming to storyboarding to mathematics to physics, all of it intended to turn out some of the best animators, game programmers and game designers on the planet.
Lest one wonder at the wisdom of going to school for computer gaming, DigiPen CFO Jason Chu is quick to point out just how big a business games have become, rivalling movies in terms of the money involved. "It's no longer a one-man effort in this industry," he says. "A game production cycle nowadays is 18 months to two years, can involve 30-50 people, and a budget of $5 to $10 million dollars." Those are some serious numbers, particularly in a soft economy.
DigiPen's history may well be unique among institutions of higher learning. Founded in 1988 in Vancouver, B.C. by Claude Comair, DigiPen began as a computer simulation and animation production company. The ten employees quickly found that the demand for their services far outpaced the supply. "We were approached one day by a company that had a whole show they wanted produced on a computer," Chu explains. "We said great, we'd love to take the project, but we need to find people. We had 10 people, we figured that we needed 40 to do it in eight months." Qualified animators, it turned out, were in short supply. The company turned down the project.
Unable to find the necessary personnel in the industry, DigiPen decided to train its own, and the DigiPen Institute of Technology was born. Mostly known these days for its RTIS program, DigiPen actually began as an animation school, working with local colleges in Vancouver. Then, in 1994, DigiPen partnered with Nintendo to introduce a two-year program in game design and development.
In 1998, DigiPen opened its campus in Redmond. Located in the same building as Nintendo, DigiPen maintains ties with the company-many of its students intern there, and later go on to full-time jobs-but is an independent entity that has just recently received its accreditation. "When DigiPen moved from Canada to Redmond, we did not anticipate that accreditation would take such a long time," Chu says. "When we moved to the U.S., we started the school with a four-year Bachelor of Science." But when DigiPen sought accreditation, it was told that it must graduate a class from its longest existing program before it could apply. This has severely limited the financial aid options available to DigiPen students, as well as the school's ability to accept students from outside the U.S. That, says Chu, is about to change.
DigiPen graduates are consciously prepared for the workforce in ways in which their compatriots at more traditional universities may not be. Semesters are structured like software production cycles, and group work isn't just highly encouraged-the standards of the programming and animation programs require it. "I act like an executive producer in the classroom," explains Jen Sward, an instructor in game design and production for the RTIS program. "I meet with each team, talk about where they are with their projects, and help to guide them. I give them a sense of what it's like to be in the industry."
Gonsalvez agrees, pointing out that most computer games require too much work for one person or even a small team, which was, of course, the problem that Comair and his colleagues encountered in the first place. At the same time, he emphasizes that a DigiPen education isn't just about acquiring a skillset.
"Students find practical applications for theoretical concepts," he explains, demonstrating a few students' animation projects, which range from a gorilla eating a banana in a jungle, to a dog walking down an alley full of rain puddles, to a masked commando kicking down a door.
"The industry sees a lot of average work," he says. "I like pushing the students to do more than they're asked to do. Computer graphics is kind of the new kid on the block. If it learns from traditional animation and film, it'll avoid some of the same mistakes."
It certainly won't be for a lack of trying. Programming and animation students spend as much time in classes and on homework as a dot-com startup employee spent at work in 1998, frequently putting in 12-hour days. That, says Chu, is deliberate.
"The time it takes for a DigiPen grad to integrate into a production in a company is significantly shorter than for new hires from other universities," he explains. "That's why the hours here are so rigorous--when they go to work, it's like going to school."
Clearly, studying at DigiPen is a serious business. The perception that making computer games is like playing them has no place here, and DigiPen is careful to disillusion anyone who thinks otherwise before they have a chance to apply. There's the plainly designed course catalog, with its math, physics, and design courses; then there's the campus itself, which looks more like an office suite than an institute of higher education. The students work in labs that tend to be dimly lit, and attend lectures in classrooms that look more like conference rooms. Even the library is utilitarian.
"Parents think it's not serious," Gonsalvez says, noting that the parents of would-be game programmers may have some reservations about their kids' choice of career. "But they see that behind the scenes, it's very demanding." DigiPen attracts a certain number of non-traditional -aged students as well, mostly in the animation program. Sward says, "We see a lot of people coming back who want a degree to advance in their field." That describes J Kovach, a first-year animation student. Already a working artist, Kovach came to DigiPen because, she says, "I decided that I wanted a practical application for my chosen profession. She notes that, with all the work involved, "there is no way you can come out of here and not have improved." Her classmate Nathan Purkeypile agrees, and praises the independent nature of much of the coursework: "We get to decide our own personal projects. It's something we have to invest a massive amount of time in, so it's nice that it is something unique."
Long hours, fairly high tuition (one year can cost $12,000), and highly specialized course work--clearly, DigiPen isn't for everyone. But its animation and RTIS graduates tend to go on to successful careers, often with some of the top companies in the industry. "Having been in the industry and seen what the students are capable of, it's just amazing. I would be hiring these people without any question," Sward says, while Chu points out that even in current economic conditions, the game industry is growing at up to $1 billion a year. Like the film industry, where DigiPen got its start, in games there's always a demand for new product. As long as that's the case, Chu predicts, there'll always be a need for schools like DigiPen.
DigiPen Institute of Technology is located in Redmond, WA. Their website at www.DigiPen.edu includes course information, admission requirements, and details on the academic programs they offer.
This article originally appeared in Puget Sound Computer Source magazine in June 2003.
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