Interaction Design Institute Ivrea: Thoughts
(Update: an introduction. I'm spending two years in Northern Italy getting a Masters degree from the Interaction Design Institute Ivrea.)
First, the students. We are from all over the world. Many have lived in countries across the globe from their homes. Nearly everyone (except me) speaks multiple languages. We divide evenly into three groups (more or less): programmers, graphic/web designers, and industrial designers. Compared with the latter two groups, my visual skills are non-existent.
Second, the school. The building itself (la casa blu) is striking with its bright blue brick and red trim. There are three floors and a basement: workshops, auditorium, gallery, studios, meeting rooms, offices. Not much technology in evidence, but lots of IDII press and cork boards. It feels like the right size and composition for the program.
The returning faculty have presented their backgrounds and interests to us first-year students. Each seemed expert in their field, whether product design, graphic design, electronics, or software. They come from Italy, Germany, and England, and I haven't figured out how they all interact.
In fact, I haven't found out quite how the academics function. We have a short project next week, and then four workshops (GUIs, tangible interfaces, service systems, and service applications), two applied dreams (collaborations with corporations), some reviews, exams, etc. But who teaches which classes? Are all the first-years always in class together? What assignments will we be given?
I have a bunch of ideas and lots of technologies I'd like to explore, but I don't know how they'll fit into the curriculum. But the work I do for class may be more interesting than anything I would have done on my own anyway, because of the structure and collaboration. I can't wait to get started.
These first two weeks have been mostly bureaucracy and Italian lessons. I had learned enough of the language before coming to attempt a conversation with a man on the train, who informed me that I had better switch trains in Settimo if I wanted to end up in Ivrea. I was thankful to arrive without further problems or conversations. Class, shopping, and reading undici novelle (eleven stories) of Luigi Pirandello have expanded my vocabularly and improved my grammar, but I have a lot to learn.
I've been surprised, however, to discover that the language requires less adjustment than the smallness of Ivrea and the difference in culture. Nothing here is open on Sundays, and supermarkets are a new idea. Fruit and vegetables come from one store, salami and cheese the next, bread from a third, fresh meat yet another, and for salt I have to go to the tobaccanist.
The street from my apartment in Talponia to the Institute is lined with gas stations, office buildings, and cafes; the sidewalks are cobblestone; and the road to town is a highway. We inhabit the commercial, formerly-Olivetti section of Ivrea, across the river from the old center. There, the streets are narrow and hilly and the buildings older. The town has a disproportionate number of shoe stores and sellers of home furnishings, which in the States would be fast food joints and Walmarts.
I've been drinking many 24-cent espressos from the school's vending machines, and eating (surprise!) lots of pasta. The tomatoes and peppers taste richer here, and there's no mass-produced foam-rubber bread. The stalls at the Friday market offer an abundance and variety of food and clothes, all thoroughly Italian. There are a few Chinese restaurants, but I haven't found any other foreign fare.
I will eat well here, though I may miss sushi, corned beef, and chocolate chip cookies. Lunch at il convento (a former convent, built in the 15th century), however, tastes better and costs less than anything within a 15 walk of LaSalle and Van Buren (and that covers dozens of restaurants). The language may become a problem if I attempt a user study or want to meet anyone outside of the Institute, and I may never get used to the shutdown on Sundays, but it will be a good two years.