My most pronounced and resonant memories of Tisch are its details — the physical nuances of 721 Broadway. To recount a few:
The way the wood floor (R.I.P) on those upper stories creaked when you walked down the hall. It was so authentic, as if each creak brought to mind another great who had squeezed through those narrow halls in years past. Step here: Spike Lee. Creak there: Woody Allen.
The decision of which elevator bay to choose when arriving in the morning, especially when the lines were long. One side always seemed faster. And those old metal elevator buttons, with two small lights on either side of the floor number. Sometimes they lit up, sometimes they didn't. I always felt a little unsafe in those elevators, and often opted for the old stairwell for the journey down.
The scent of the Steenbeck rooms. And all the post-production rooms, for that matter. It's a sort of musty smell that I still encounter occasionally; it will always bring me back to that accomplished and exhausted feeling after another overnight edit session at Tisch.
The signed film posters on the walls. David Irving's C.H.U.D. II is particularly memorable. Also, Mo Ogrodnik's Ripe. Whoops, I still haven't seen either movie.
The control room in the TV Studio. I was a T.A. there for awhile, and remember some of those old console buttons didn't work quite as they were supposed to. We'd develop creative workarounds to keep things running. And I liked to press the 'Degauss' button on the monitor, having no idea what it was supposed to do.
Perhaps one of the most vivid memories is from 9/11/01: Watching the twin towers burn from the roof of Tisch. We could see them so clearly. I have a photo of me up there, somewhere. Minutes later, I walked downstairs where Nick Tanis informed us that one of the towers had just collapsed. What a crazy moment in time.
To end on a positive note, I recall my final day at Tisch — screening my Color Sync film in the theater with family and friends. I remember the trouble we had getting film loaded into that old projector. When it finally screened, it was the ultimate culminating experience to mark my time at film school.
Thanks, TSOA, for all the memories!
— Jesse Selwyn, Film & TV, Class of 2004