A Dynamite Disney Item that got away...

Hal King seems to have redrawn "Bacchus" as Fred Moore in departing Disney employee Sally Holmes' book

Some readers of Blackwing Diaries have noticed that my entries weren't as frequent after 2007 got going. Those who read everything I've written and have an excellent memory and/or know me personally can figure out why that was, but I do feel a not unpleasant nagging urge to keep it more up to date than I have.

Life will keep happening though, and while a recent(and not quite uncompleted) move, a change of jobs, and the signing of a book contract mean time's even more elusive, there are so many interesting and exciting things going on in animation now that I expect the Blackwing posts will appear much more often.

And then there's the flip side of writing: reading. In tandem with less blogging there's been substantially less reading of other blogs. Truthfully, this has bothered me more than neglecting to post on my own blog, as once one falls out of the habit it's difficult to keep up. And it seems more talented and uniquely interesting artists are starting blogs everyday. Thank goodness they're doing them, and that some veterans have decided it might be worth it to maintain an online place to post their own work, too.

There are probably three blogs I've never stopped checking almost every day: the ubiquitous Cartoon Brew, and two others-one by a writer, historian and critic, the other written by an animator and longtime owner of his own Manhattan studio:: Michael Barrier and Michael Sporn, respectively. I can't exhort all of you who are serious about animation too strongly to visit them on a regular basis. I know many often disagree with the opinions expressed in them-I certainly have-but they continually post important and rare material, as well as views, news and serious discussion about our medium that you're missing out if you don't have a look.

And those are just three. There are dozens more with marvelous stuff every day. This post is the result seeing of something I missed because I hadn't dropped by a blog in too long: in Mayerson On Animation, Mark Mayerson's blog, he shared a (sadly ended) Ebay auction item's webpage...and what an item: a woman named Sally Holmes who worked at Disney through the early 1940s left to start a family. In lieu of a going-away card a mind-boggling array of animators signed and illustrated her copy of the large, lush "Fantasia" book that had been published concurrent with that film's release (this isn't the first time I've seen that book used as a yearbook by Disney employees-Bob Thomas "Art Of Animation" book of the late 50s would serve that purpose a decade later).

You've got to see these to believe them. How about Ward Kimball doing his thing-and Milt Kahl finding Ward an irresistible act worth following. So to speak:

Ward:


Milt:

And of course, Fred Moore:

John Sibley:


A beautiful little painting by Jesse Marsh


He signed it, too.

There are loads more where that came from, including a NSFW Donald and Goofy (actually they're safe for our line of work, but if you work at a more conservative establishment, well...). The original seller's page is here. As he notes, this was sold a few months ago, so that's that. I'm sure it has a good home.

Mary Blair and Alice...by Kent Melton and Electric Tiki

From Electric Tiki. Kent Melton after Mary Blair

Here's something that's got to rate as one of the neatest collectibles ever--sculptures of Alice in Wonderland and the White Rabbit based on Mary Blair's artwork(and licensed by Disney, of course). When I first saw this I just about jumped out of my skin. Fantastic!

Alice stands about 5" tall and should retail somewhere in the $120 range. For two figures of this quality in a limited edition it'll be well worth it.

This was an idea hatched by the company that made them, Electric Tiki--to create figures that based on Mary Blair's visual development and try to capture her unique style in three dimensions--and I think it's a great one. I've seen Alice here from every angle and the detail and appeal is all there. Below is a detail of the artwork that the figures are based on. They were the only reference used by the sculptor--the fantastic Kent Melton.

I can't wait to get my hands on this set(it will be sold as a pair). The ETA is summer '09. Until then, enjoy the preview.

Tex Avery and Mike Maltese: a Double Centennial Tribute

My friend Sharon Colman asked me to an evening put on by the Academy last Monday. I accepted immediately and it's a good thing I did(and that Sharon thinks ahead)because by the time 3/24 rolled around the event at the Linwood Dunn theater had completely sold out.

I think the practically-new Dunn theater seats 600, but the staff was resorting to pulling out folding chairs and holding up the start of the program to try and accomodate everyone. Just before the lights went down Tom Sito was spotted doing a Grouchoesque run in front of the screen heading for the last of the seats. I saw Dave Smith, the longtime Disney archivist, and Jerry Beck(natch). There were enormous gourmet cookies and coffee beforehand, but no one needed caffeine to last through the 14 shorts. Joe Adamson, an author and film historian I greatly admire, chose the cartoons screened. Joe would win my undying gratitude if all he'd done was write "Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Zeppo", in my opinion far and away the best book about the Marx Brothers(and absolutely the funniest). But he's also done a few other classic titles, most notably Tex Avery: King of Cartoons" and "Bugs Bunny: 50 Years and Only One Grey Hare".

The evening's program; CLICK the image to open in a larger size

It was a good selection. I'd seen all but one of the shorts before(as had Sharon). Some I'd seen many, many times. As great a cartoon as it is, I'd have said beforehand that I could probably skip "What's Opera, Doc?" only because I have seen it about 3,000 times--and I'd have been wrong in my imagined saturation-point-reaching. Because for all those viewings I've probably only seen it on the big screen 3 or 4 times. What a revelation. It's incredible to see Maurice Noble's color and design the way he meant them to look. And of course there's the added factor of having a real, large, live audience.

I love the romance and mystery of the film experience. It's kind of sacred to me, if that's not too strong a term. You sit in utter silence(well, hopefully) in a darkened theatre, the curtain parts, and you hold your breath a moment. And boy--the beauty, spirit and vibrancy of that Warner Bros cartoon shield leaping out at you accompanied by the most terrific studio orchestra ever...that's got to be the king of all intros. It's interesting to enjoy it today, in the respectful company of hundreds of AMPAS members and cartoon fans, and think of how those guys--Maltese, Avery--felt about their careers while they were working at them.
The program (whose cover is pictured above) contains a couple of excellent essays on the honorees, both offering food for thought and perspective. By the early 70s Tex Avery was a bit of a broken spirit due largely to tragedies in his family life, and he apparently considered his brilliant work for Warner's and MGM as just so much silliness--disposable, even "embarrassing".

It's one of the merits of our latter-day media overload that we now give Tex Avery the credit he earned and deserved as a genius of film comedy and an animation innovator. He wasn't completely overlooked at the time, certainly--but his reputation was mostly limited to his own small industry. He didn't break out beyond the confines of a tiny community in notoriety as, for instance, Frank Tashlin eventually did--but Tashlin left animation for live action and thereby merited wearing long pants, figuratively speaking, in the eyes of critics and writers--and even then, he too remained in yet another segregated category, comedy.

Added to the cartoons shown Monday were a couple of clips of both men reminsicing--Avery from "Bugs Bunny Superstar" and an audio-only clip of Mike Maltese spinning away in a distinctly New Yawk accent. It was especially nice to have them represent themselves a bit among their own work. After the shorts a panel of colleagues and one daughter--Maltese's--sat in front and offered their thoughts. Stan Freberg was a last minute additon to those listed in the program and reincarnated his voice for Pete Puma, as well as recounted his entry into voice acting(although he and/or I were fuzzy about the dates and circumstances--somehow he had Bob Clampett standing next to Chuck Jones at the time he auditioned for Pete Puma. Not too sure about that!). The speakers' remarks all gave the honorees that much more of a real presence, although there's no doubt their work spoke loudly for them. What a unique legacy is the short cartoon.

I have to do a plug of sorts for one of my favorite organizations: the Academy does a full roster of great screenings and programs open to the public--as is their fantastic research library located in Beverly Hills. The Dunn theater complex is a relatively new addition, and its location makes the Academy events there all the more accessible and attractive to attend. And the tickets cost about $5. You can't miss. Usually the only attention they receive is for the glitzy TV show that's on every spring, and that's understandable--but they do a lot more, and it's a resource we in L.A. should really take full advantage of.
In the foyer on the Dunn theater, by the way, there was a great display of vintage and modern matte paintings. A must see if you're in the area.
ADDENDUM Indispensable animation pro and blogger Hans Perk, who was also present, reminds me that it it's also the 100th anniversary of another cartoon great: Mel Blanc. In additon, clicking on Hans' name will take you to his own list of other animation notables who'd be celebrating their 100th anniversary in 2008. Check it out..

The Cartoon Art Museum in San Francisco hosts Mary Blair(among others)

I'd heard about the Cartoon Art Museum for years but was only recently able to pay a quick visit. Located in the heart of downtown San Francisco, it's a relatively small space packed with rare and beautiful art for the eyes to feast upon. Two of its current shows feature Mary Blair and Edward Gorey-in the latter's case, all to do with his designs for the stage play "Dracula" in the late 70s.

First, the Blair show:

Ten years ago a now-defunct animation store/gallery hosted what I think was the first major show of Blair artwork, and to my knowlege this is only the second. It's not quite as vast an array as that earlier show but it's certainly a must-see. Everything is great, and offers an opportunity to learn something. All of us have seen Mary Blair's work reproduced and posted over and over again, but as with all art nothing beats seeing the originals. Most of what's on display appears courtesy of Mary's son Kevin, but Pete Docter loaned some beautiful pieces from his collection as well.

an early watercolor, an unusual Blair given what we're used to thinking of when we think of her paintings, possibly done while a student at Chouinard

Even better-and much larger-in person than the Golden Book we all know



Quite without planning to I took some pictures with my iphone. I post a selection here very aware that the image quality is poor, and that's intentional. I wouldn't want to reproduce things that are privately owned or that could possibly be used in any commercial way. This is just by way of seducing any and all of you to get up (or down or west) to San Francisco and visit the artwork yourselves if you possibly can.

a later, non-Disney advert for cigarettes; gouache



There's always a lot of talk about the obvious influence of Mary Blair on artists today--so much so, in fact, that it's led in some circles to a bit of a backlash towards her or towards the stylings of artists who've been inspired by her. But when you see these up close and without the filters of photography(either the still camera's or the animation stand's)or the limitations of the published page, even now they leap out at the viewer and are as new and fresh as they must have been half a century ago. To see her technique up close is to appreciate how incredibly skilled she was. Intuitive, surely; imaginative and whimsical, yes--but also plain, keen, brilliant, diamond-hard thinking going on. It's still a big wow.

As for her impact on the current generation of artists, well, everyone's influenced by something, and a good number are influenced by everything. Blair casts a huge and prodigious shadow, and just as the Brandywine school founded by Howard Pyle a hundred years ago resulted in men and women who absorbed and adapted his theories and style into their own eventual identities, so it is with giants such as Mary Blair. In short--there's much worse to be inspired by, and I can't think of anything but good coming from learning at the feet of a master. Individual style and approach always will out eventually, anyway--and the metamorphosis is fascinating to be able to see.

In the notes that accompany the paintings on the wall the admission is made that there was some difficulty, something of a tough fit for Mary's art in the medium of Disney's animated features and shorts. Most of us have read the quotes about that, and with our love and reverence for the more constructed, dimensional aspects of Disney's character animation we can try to understand, even empathize with the animators who'd be frustrated when told by Walt to "get this stuff up on the screen".

But just as with those visual development artists working today whose work is at first glance as far from the final effect of CG animation as is imaginable, it seems impossible to me that any artist, any filmmaker wouldn't be inspired simply by absorbing the spirit of images like these--not to mention the color, the mood, the storytelling that's there. I guess I can't really understand the resistance to any of Blair's work back then--it's so obviously grounded in solid, three-dimensional knowlege--and proves how far an expert can take representational design--of animals, of humans--and push it while keeping it coherent and visually appealing. Yet resistance did exist. John Canemaker offers some ideas about why this might have been so in his singular book, whose title is shared with this exhibit.

There's much more to see in the rest of the Museum's space, including these gems:

A story sketch from Dumbo

A beautiful watercolor spot cartoon by Eldon Dedini

A 1920s single-panel comic from a woman named Gladys Parker

Many of us own books containing fine examples of work by Schulz and Herriman, Gorey and Ketcham,et al but to see these originals so much larger than their reproduced size with their underdrawing apparent, or the marks of an ink nib on illustration board or paper...I said it before but it bears repeating: it's an education in itself. And a rare privilege to get the opportunity--for only six dollars, if you can get to San Francisco.

Even if you can't make the Blair show before it closes on March 18th you should make sure to pay a visit to 655 Mission Street anyway.

Norm Ferguson, Webb Smith, and the Pluto flypaper sequence

An absolutely fascinating and must-read article by Michael Barrier examining some rare Pluto drawings.

Thanks to an anonymous collector(I think I know who that might be--and if I'm right--email or call me, you-who-shall-not-be-named! I need to talk to you), Barrier has posted some wonderful pages of sketches of Pluto, studies for that famous stuck-on-flypaper sequence in "Playful Pluto"--not only a very funny cartoon bit in itself, but exceptional enough that none other than Preston Sturges chose to feature it in the climax of his masterpiece "Sullivan's Travels"(Joel McCrea's Sullivan is a prisoner in a chain gang, taken for a rare "movie night" at a local black church; when he sees the desperate, beaten, dead-end prisoners laughing their guts out at Pluto's antics, he has an epiphany that stands as Sturges' own personal and professional credo).

Here's just one page--go to Barrier's blog to see more:

image courtesy of michaelbarrier.com

I personally don't believe that these are gag drawings, but agree with John Canemaker's assessment that they look much more like they'd come from the animator himself(Ferguson, the great Pluto expert). That said, they are more finished than one might expect of 'Fergie', so perhaps Barrier's other suggested possibility is true--that it's the work of yet another, third party studying the Ferguson sequence.

In any case, It's just great to be able to see rare material like this. Many thanks to Barrier and his generous contributor.