Stepping onto the campus of the National Taiwan Academy of Arts, the visitor is struck immediately by a pervasively romantic atmosphere. Here, sculptures casually line a corridor; there, the sound of a Chinese zither floats melodiously through the air; while at sunset, scattered groups of students may be seen around the campus practicing their woodwinds or strings, wielding the brush, or perhaps just dipping their feet in a cool stream, gazing at the clouds. Considering the romantic surroundings, the number of classmates who have entertained romantic dreams together here and later become couples is hardly surprising.

The school's beginnings are rather prosaic, however. Founded on October 31, 1955, in Panchiao, just outside Taipei, as a vocational school for junior high school graduates, the academy at that time had no classrooms of its own and had to borrow space from a nearby institution. The school had just three programs then-- graphic arts, Chinese drama, and drama and cinema--and fewer than 100 students. But it grew steadily, soon acquiring its own buildings, accepting only high school graduates, and adding 3- and 5-year programs in other fields. For 26 years, until the founding in 1981 of the National Institute of the Arts, the academy was the only school in the country with the training of artistic talent as its sole purpose. It now has ten fields of study-- cinema, drama, broadcasting, western music, Chinese music, fine arts, sculpture, industrial arts, graphic arts, and dance-- and over 2,000 students.

The differences between the academy and other colleges and universities begins with the national college entrance exams. In addition to the standard written test, the academy has its own proficiency tests for each program. Fine arts candidates, for instance, are given special paper to draw on that can't be exchanged if they make a mistake; film candidates may be asked to perform.

Also different are the academy's teaching methods. Half the student's time is spent outside the classroom, in studios, printing plants, theaters, and the like. In these workshop sessions, teachers are careful to guide the students just enough to develop their skills without stifling their creativity. Freedom is the academy's watchword: There are no roll calls in class; students may come and go as they wish; anyone may exhibit; and there is no censorship of contents.

The opportunity to exhibit is seized by the students with a seemingly boundless enthusiasm. The open-air theater, hexagonal art gallery, concert hall, and projection room are often booked solid a semester in advance. Exhibiting and performing, in fact, are essential student activities at the academy. Each student must produce a senior-year piece of art in order to graduate.

In the past, senior exhibits were held only on campus but now they are usually put before the public, often making the teachers as nervous as the students. Before a bus sets out on a touring exhibition, fellow students will set off firecrackers and the principal may come to offer some words of encouragement.

The cost of all this is not cheap. Student/faculty ratios are low, and equipment and facility costs, particularly for film and broadcasting, are high. Are the gains worth it? Some question the value of art academies in general, pointing out that many great artists never attended academies at all. But for a young person with artistic inclinations and potential, a school like the Taiwan Academy of Arts can provide the necessary training for a young artist to master the skills of his or her craft effectively and efficiently.

The awards and honors won by graduates of the academy during the last 30 years are innumerable. Almost every major art festival and awards ceremony both at home and abroad has carried the names of the academy's graduates. The school's pursuit of excellence is summed up in its motto: "Truth, Goodness, Beauty."

Thirty years is not a long history for an academic institution, but for this academy, which during that time has grown from what it was to what it is now, those 30 years have been full of progress and achievement. And the future holds even more promise.

(Translated by Peter Eberly)

[Picture Caption]

Happy students bring their finished sculpture to campus for display. (Photo by Chang Liang-kang)

Don't look down on this student sculpture. It might be an "early period" piece by a future master.

The storerooms full up, these sculptures must put up with waiting outside a classroom.

The rehearsal by these drama majors looks as intense as a recording in atelevision studio.

Cutting and splicing is a prerequisite for film majors.

Music majors, getting together over summer vacation, practice intensely.

Past the main gate, this unconventional piece of work is the first thing that meets the eye.

Don't look down on this student sculpture. It might be an "early period" piece by a future master.

The rehearsal by these drama majors looks as intense as a recording in a　television studio.

Cutting and splicing is a prerequisite for film majors.

The storerooms full up, these sculptures must put up with waiting outside a classroom.

Music majors, getting together over summer vacation, practice intensely.

Past the main gate, this unconventional piece of work is the first thing that meets the eye.