I then transferred to the Theater Design/Technology department, which was wonderful (partially because of the extremely small class size (it was a new major at the time and there was a total of 13 people in the whole of the major)).  Nick Embree is a fabulous professional, if a little bit hesitant in his teaching.  This major was fun and engaging and only partially filled with meaningless work (which include finding photos in magazines which execute “good design”, really?  what are we, 10 years old?).  The problem with the Theater Tech major lies in their unrealistic expectations of their students.  Students must take both a Costume class (which consists of sewing together props for the school's own productions and taking orders from a somewhat bitchy woman who expects everyone to know how to sew extensively) and the Shop class, where you physically build the sets.  These would be exciting and fun classes to take were they treated like actual classes.  Instead, they're treated like internships.  You're expected and even required to work at these places on Saturdays, Sundays, and even after school classes/early mornings before class.  If you commute, there is no hope of ever being able to complete these classes.  If you have a minor, or even try to take more than the absolute minimum of liberal arts classes (or, likewise, want to actually pass your classes), it's impossible.  Or at least, extremely difficult.  As someone with an academic scholarship to upkeep, the time spent building sets (which is not, by the way, the concentration of major which I wanted) resulted in a financial and emotional strain.

I then transferred back to the College of Art and Design after realizing that I missed doing actual artwork and didn't want to sell my soul to pay for extra commute money.  I went into the Illustration Department because I was told that they “actually teach you how to draw”.  Which they didn't. 

In Illustration, you take an anatomy class with one of the hardest screws to ever walk those halls: Phyllis.  In retrospect, she's actually my favorite professor.  She's hard as nails, has ridiculous expectations, has ZERO bedside manner when it comes to critiques and requires that you spend an arm and a leg for supplies you will probably never use again (the woman requires that you do your drawing homework on hot-press Arches watercolor paper.  WATERCOLOR PAPER.  Which will run you about $5.60 a sheet and a sheet will get you two nights of homework.  You have homework every day you have class which is twice a week.  Do the math).  Phyllis will expect you to do double the amount of class time for homework.  So a 6-hour class like her anatomy class will mean you have 12 hours of homework.  And it's not 12 hours for some indigent either, it's 12 hours of copying anatomy exactly from an expensive textbook and having to know a ridiculous amount of anatomical terms, functions, and ratios.  I learned a lot in her class, a lot more than any other class I took, but I worked my ass off to learn it and struggled in my other classes as a result. 

I transferred to the Painting Department lastly (due mostly because the illustration faculty found my work to not be “stylized” enough and I was basically told that my realistic, antiquity-inspired style had no market.  lovely).  The Painting floor is the biggest sack of bullshit ever.  The kids on that floor are nothing but self-indulgent, elitists who do not possess a shred of technical talent or skill but instead feel compelled to bloat their artwork with lofty expressions of “intellectualism” which results in poorly constructed “artwork” so soaked in pretentiousness it's enough to make you gag.  They are gossips without an iota respect and lack the intelligence or sophistication to actually make their work into anything even remotely resembling the Masters they claim to draw inspiration from. 

The faculty on this floor is even worse.  It was common for one of my professors to make lewd remarks about my looks and then giggle while staring at me.  My color studies teacher was a hack: she'd praise a piece which was completed the night before in a matter of minutes and then scorn someone who had worked for days.  She had favorites, clearly, and was prone to days of what seemed like hormonal imbalance and irritability which she took out on her students.  The worst person on the painting floor is, however, Stuart Elster. 

This is a man who has grown fat on his pretentiousness.  There are truly no words to describe the pompousness and inflated sense of superiority that this man possesses.  His syllabus reads like a parody of everything snooty art-snobs are supposed to be (if I still had it, I would scan and upload it somewhere.  It really is a hysterical portrait of a man who needs to lay off the thesaurus and pull his head from his ass).  He frequently uses words like, “diaphanous” and “effluvium” to describe artwork during critiques.  He also has an amazing ability to turn a critique into the complete slaughter of an individual's self-esteem.  He responds favourably to artwork like, a rock sitting on a three-legged stool (which belongs to the University and randomly floats around the painting floor), while staring blankly at beautifully painted pieces before turning and saying something along the lines of, “stop wasting my time”. 

The school is designed to get you to spend as much money as possible while teaching you little to nothing.  There are very few after school activities or clubs.  The fellow students are nice enough, but most of them seem to be lacking a few brain cells.  I mean, this IS an institution for higher educational, right?  Instead, the school is filled with motivationally-challenged potheads who only do half of the assignments and are not nearly as intellectually edgy (and no, smoking outside the doors to every campus building with a gauge in your ear and a septum piercing does not qualify as edgy or stimulating.  Tattoos are not indicative of creativity or genius) as young people attending an art school should be.  The professors can be unusually cruel, even for someone with a lot of confidence, and can easily break the spirit of someone with a sensitive soul (which, by all means, should be everyone there.  It's an art school, artists are renowned for being sensitive.  That's why we MAKE ART, because we are SENSITIVE to things other people ARE NOT). 

The only good thing about UArts is the city: Philadelphia is amazing and I feel privileged to have spent four years living there (even if I didn't graduate).