Tissa David's Titania

drawing by Tissa David from Michael Sporn's blog
Every time I visit Michael Sporn's blog I find something unusual or amazing or both. I think of myself as a packrat but I've nothing on Sporn, who in the course of his animation career has not only worked on a wide breadth of subjects but sought out the work of others that he admires. This drawing is by a friend and frequent colleague of Michael's at his studio, veteran animator Tissa David. It's a cleanup of Titania, the faerie queen from "A Midsummer Night's Dream", and I love its lush, sensuous feel. If you go to Michael's blog to read the entry you'll see the wild color styling of the final version along with a good amount of other examples. It looks like it was an interesting project-done by four people in two years(and animated entirely by Ms. David).

Tissa David is one of those people I'd dreamed I might one day share an aperitif with after some sparkling New York dinner party. I first read about her in John Canemaker's book about Dick Williams' "Raggedy Ann & Andy" feature, which had a chapter that recounted her early life and painted a very vivid portrait of a spirited individual. It ended with a quote from her that made an impact on me-to paraphrase: "even when I was wandering Paris so broke I collected cigarettes from the street for my next day's smoking, I thought life was the most exciting adventure imaginable".
That's how I remember it though I have probably mangled it. I've thought of that statement many, many times over the years. It gave a profound impression of an animator who was eternally optimistic, seeing her life as an "adventure" no matter the obstacles, who survived, who never stopped practising her art. I believe she works still.

Rocket Johnson!

From Paul Briggs here finally is the announcement of a project that an awful lot of guys have been working on in their spare time-of which they have precious little. Nevertheless, somehow they all pulled it off.
I was lucky enough to see most of the book and it's a must-have. Talk about a roster of names; some very familiar, some you may not yet know-but all have done terrific work.
Here's Paul's email press release:

"Who is Rocket Johnson?" is a 72 page graphic novel anthology being self-published by Walt Disney Animation Studio's Story Artists and Directors. It's an all-ages book in which every artist answers the question: "Who is Rocket Johnson?"
It will be sold exclusively at booth 2302 in San Diego (http://www.comic-con.org/) and is a limited edition of 1,000 copies.

Cover painted by:
Paul Felix

Artists contributing stories:
Steve Anderson
John Musker
Dean Wellins
Mike Gabriel
Kevin Deters
Paul Briggs
Tom Ellery
Sam Levine
Nathan Greno
Don Hall
Mark Kennedy
Aurian Redson
Daniel Chong
Tron Mai
Lawrence Gong
Joe Mateo
Michael LaBash
Chris Ure
Bruce Morris
Mark Walton

Featuring pin-ups by:
Glen Keane
ChenYi Chang
Byron Howard
Arthur Adams

That's some lineup. For more information visit the official website.

Edited to add: Briggs informs me that at the present time there aren't any plans to do more than 1000 copies, take advance orders, or do any mail order at all. That means that if we want one we'll all have to plan to be at the Rocket Johnson booth at San Diego during the Con-probably early in the week. I feel positive that sketchbook resellers such as Stuart Ng and Bud Plant will be picking up multiple copies to offer at their own outlets, but with only 1000 available to begin with those too should sell quickly. I have to think it likely that when the initial run does sell out, more will be printed-eventually. But for now look for it only at the Con.

Disney Girls...

this well-dressed young woman wears an enigmatic expression

...and this girl looks like a cross between Bonnie Parker and a very young Jane Wyman(when she was blonde)-what a stance!

Doesn't she look happy? The implement is in her hand is an airbrush. Notice the Woodland Cafe title card on the wall-a souvenir? This desk by the way is far superior to the unpartitioned inkers' tables.

Here's real sportiness! I love these outfits. Kate Hepburn gets too much credit for wearing "daring" slacks in the 30s, based on this photo. Perhaps this was taken on a Saturday. Disney staffers worked a half day on Saturdays-standard hours even for live action actors and production people in the Depression era.

These were taken at the Hyperion studio, circa 1936-37.
All this and more were scrapbooked (along with a wealth of discarded drawings, color models, doodles and company memos) by a girl with the unlikely name of Ingeborg Willy-a young woman who obviously loved her animation job inking in the best studio in the United States. By the way-none of the women pictured above is Ms. Willy, I think-she was holding the camera.

These come from the collection of Robert Cowan(see below), who acquired Ms. Willy's scrapbook in 1998. He made an absolutely lovely job of printing up a facsimile and offering this rare scrapbook at cost, thinking that he'd like to share his find with interested parties. Only a very few were ultimately sent out(Hans Perk writes about it in more detail here), but it may yet be reprinted. I'm very lucky to have it to hand and glad to share a few of these snapshots with you.

Like her freshly uprooted sign says-here's the Comic Strip Building. This is one of the very few Hyperion structures that survives. It was moved to Burbank as the new campus was being built and is still on the Disney lot today, used as a freestanding conference room near the front gate. The silhouette of Mickey on the building's shutters was a nice touch. Ingeborg herself seems to be reflected in the doors of the bungalow, looking down into her camera taking the picture.

If these were pictures of women working at an unknown studio-or at any other company-in 1936, I'd still be fascinated by them. That they're Disney employees-and the all-too-rarely-seen ink and paint contingent at that-makes it a thousand times better. I collect vintage materials of all kinds and often while browsing through boxes at an antique mall will find snapshots like these; I think they're great. As I wrote in my comments on another blog about this book, these bring the times of 70 years ago to life, making them real and accessible and so have a wistfulness about them.

Was it as hot that summer as it is today? There wasn't smog in 1936, and I've read that a person driving from Pasadena to Silverlake could smell orange blossoms.
Well, sometimes in early spring when the temperature is just right while driving along the 2 freeway you still can. But there's a Gelsons market where the Walt Disney Studios sign with the waving neon Mickey Mouse used to be. And pretty much nobody has time to do their hair like this before work. On the other hand, those expressions look awfully familiar. I wonder what their stories were and how long they each worked at Disney's? Southern California's probably full of the grandkids of these women, somewhere.


Break time

Coming soon....

...no, not Indy IV.

If you don't already have Paul Briggs bookmarked, you'd better be doing it now.
Not only does he post wonderful sketches, but as he puts it, "Get ready" for an announcement of something very soon, revealed on his blog. Believe me, you're all going to be interested in whatever it is.

The Ninth Wonder Of the Universe

Michael Sporn posts beautiful examinations of animated films and their artists so frequently that unless I'm sharp I miss them. Don't make the same mistake, especially where this one's concerned; last week he did an entry on the tent-raising sequence from Dumbo. It's well worth your time.
No one who cares about clarity, beauty and appeal in film can stop learning from and just plain enjoying the charms of Dumbo, especially when Mike makes it so visually stunning. He must have spent a lot of time capturing screen shots, a few of which I've reposted here. But make sure you read and view his entire post:

"Tent building"

Rare Disney story sketches from Robert Cowan

a vivid story sketch of Ward Kimball from "The Reluctant Dragon"

More:

From "Melody Time"

A very rough page of sketches for "Sleeping Beauty"-look closely to read some of the hilarious dialogue. What was this page done for, I wonder? A preliminary of fuller sketches to come?

Lovely drawings from "Hawaiian Holiday"

Go there now! Lots more where this came from-and not just story sketches and thumbnails, but layouts. backgrounds, cels...and not only from the Disney studio. It's a collection to drool over.  Bob Cowan-who was unknown to me before I recently bought his self-published Willy Ingeborg scrapbook facsimile-is a very generous guy to want to share this treasure he's amassed, and we're all the richer for it.  The Cowan Collection

Marc Davis Lecture/Celebration #12: Influences and mentoring

Last Friday friend Sharon Colman (see below) and I made the breakneck drive from the Valley to Beverly Hills for this year's Marc Davis Lecture on Animation, the 12th year the Motion Picture Academy has presented it. It's been redubbed a "celebration", and that certainly fit the evening.

It was a full house(predictably so, given the impressive lineup of pros on the dais). Andreas Deja, Pete Docter, James Baxter and Eric Goldberg were scheduled to speak on "Mentorship In Animation". Each of them gave prepared remarks before screening a clip from one of the Disney animators that had influenced their work, then showing a clip of their own that reflected that influence. Andreas was first. His remarks were entertaining and charming, which didn't surprise me as I'd heard from friends over the years how effortlessly Andreas shares his love for and analysis of Disney character animation. Even so I was impressed with the ease he displayed standing in front of an enormous theatre filled with film folk and afficonados of all kinds. And he's got great comic timing-actually, all of the artists did, most notably Eric Goldberg. Eric's not only a great raconteur but he's got to be one of the best mimics I know(his impression of Dick Williams killed).

In keeping with the man whose name was on the program, Andreas showed a clip that featured Marc Davis' last feature assignment-Maleficent's introduction in "Sleeping Beauty", then a clip of his own character from "Aladdin", Jafar.
Funny how stimulating it is to hear someone who knows what they're talking about describe animation you think you know almost too well-you can't help but look at it anew. He described his pondering how to handle Jafar; he could have gone any number of ways with the character, but as the rest of "Aladdin"'s cast was so "bouncy and happy" he determined--with an eye to Davis' handling of the regally restrained threat of Maleficent--to underplay Jafar as much as possible. The clip showed his success with that approach to great effect.

Pete showed how the warm, very real(and tactile)relationship between Mowgli and Baloo in "Jungle Book" had a hand in inspiring his handling of the bond between enormous Sully and toddler Boo in "Monsters Inc.". I actually teared up a little watching the clip. It wasn't just that it was a beautifully judged scene-the characters saying goodbye to each other-but the added impact of seeing a movie projected on a real, large movie screen can't be underestimated-which was true of all of the presenters' clips.

James recounted his trip to the ARL(Disney's animation research library)to flip Milt Kahl's animation of King Louie in preparation for his animation of Rafiki in "Lion King". He stressed that he wanted only to be inspired and informed, to learn what Milt might have done in planning and executing scenes with an ape, not to copy (which he certainly has never done). But he did cop to one thing being "stolen"-the use of the elbow hair on Louie's arms. James is nothing if not scrupulous in attributing credit! He also made a point of giving credit to the story artist who worked on the scene he animated, that was shown. As a story artist I beamed from my seat at James' generosity in acknowledging the contributions of the boards--in his case done by Lorna Cook. Eric also mentioned a slew of names that were involved in his sequence ether boarding or animating(In my experience a likely reason board artists sometimes go unmentioned is because the path from boards to animation is such a twisty one. Very often a sequence-especially one as complicated and elaborate as a musical number-is the result of many different story hands. A sequence going directly from a single story artist to one animator is the exception rather than the rule, especially now in the days of CG).

Eric Goldberg-always a joyfully puckish personality-showed the "Three Caballeros" title song in tandem with his own "Friend Like Me" number from "Aladdin". [For a more detailed description of the actual presentation-which would take me more time to write up than I have during my lunch break here-see Kevin Koch's post about the evening here.]

After the four had shown their individual clips, Andreas retook the podium and an overhead projector while the rest-accompanied by moderator Charles Solomon-settled into armchairs placed in front of the screen. As they twisted in their chairs to look behind them, Andreas projected a truly mouth-watering selection of his (mostly) rough, original and rarely-seen animation drawings done by all of the "nine old men" of Disney--plus Fred Moore.
A regular reader of this blog can imagine my happiness at the lovely tribute Andreas paid to Moore's work(with accompanying original drawings) as the first true example of a Disney style of character appeal which had undeniable impact on all the nine. This part of the evening was really different and very enjoyable...it was like listening to a good DVD audio commentary-with the added bonus of the speakers being all informed, enthusiastic, intelligent and there in real time. For that segment audience and panelists alike were firmly in the same boat: all of us--whether pros, students, retired filmmakers or casual attendees--were fans of the work being displayed. Having Andreas, Pete, James and Eric point out various things in the drawings and expound on them was pure gold.

All in all it was an inspiring, warmly enjoyable night that I think Marc Davis would have approved of and been happy to be associated with. His wife Alice was there and surely felt the affection and gratitude her husband and partner's work engendered; likewise Milt Kahl's daughter and other family members. These Academy programs are really wonderful.

I should add that in the Academy lobby there's an incredibly neat display of all kinds of animation art and ephemera-model sheets, studio scrap, cels and story sketches. We only got a glimpse and it hadn't yet officially opened so I'll be back to see it again. Anyone in the area should make a point to get out to Beverly Hills and see it.

Tooned In-to great interviews with top animation folk

Sharon Colman, Scots native and Academy Award nominee for her film "Badgered"

What do Lou Romano, Sharon Colman, Mikhail Aldashin, Brad Bird, Steve Hickner and Dave Hilberman have in common?

Well, besides all being part of our wide world of animation they've all been the subjects of (online streaming) interviews conducted by Tee Bosustow, a charming and intrepid gentleman who describes himself as a "late-blooming animation fan", deferring when his surname is exclaimed upon to his brother and father, both of whom made distinguished careers in the business.
His father Steve Bosustow was one of the founders of UPA, no less.

Tee has made quite a start at compiling a resource of interviews with animation pros on his Toon IN site. I ran into him some months ago when he met up with Sharon for her interview, and he's been plenty busy since then getting the site up and adding names you'd all want to hear from. His mission statement mentions a desire(already borne out)to focus on the international as well as the more known, local scene-always a good thing.

I'm plugging this as I find far too few people know about it-and I admit I've been remiss in not seeking out these interviews before. They're great to listen to while at the cintiq. Along with Clay Kaytis' Animation Podcast, Toon In is a definite bookmark to revisit regularly. Which reminds me-don't miss Clay's brand new(as of this writing) Part One of an interview with Ken Duncan-it's tops.

A little more blogging on Oliver M. Johnston, Jr.

Of course with the passing of a now-legendary artist like Ollie Johnston the blogosphere as expected is filling up with tributes and ponderings of all kinds. If you read this blog you're bound to visit Cartoon Brew on a regular basis; they've just posted a lovely essay by Brad Bird that must be read.

Jaime Weinman writes a blog dealing with pop culture-entertainment that's one of the very best and most knowledgeable anywhere. I can't remember how I first found his site, but he writes often about animation and seems to have an archive of info at his fingertips(and I don't just mean Google).

To mark the loss of Ollie Johnston he's reproduced something I suspect Ollie would really love people to read: an article from the LA times about Ollie's backyard scale train--from 1956! Interestingly--although one would think it would be a great little tidbit of information--the fact that Ollie was a Disney animator isn't mentioned though Walt himself is, due to his purchase of trains for then-new Disneyland. One wonders if Walt himself was present at the "clambake" get-together the paper describes. Probably not, but you never know--if he was, he might well have asked not to be mentioned, as he'd have been enjoying his own off-hours personal hobby. But that's just wild speculation.

Read it here.

I also recommend a visit to Michael Barrier's reminiscence of Ollie(you might have to scroll down a bit). The photos taken with Frank and Ollie at Barrier's home in 1977 are priceless as time machines(if you've lived long enough to remember 1977).

Ollie Johnston 1912-2008

The last surviving member of the Disney animation review board during its golden age-the group of hand-picked artists Walt Disney called his own "nine old men"--and more importantly a beloved artist, mentor, patriarch and husband--passed into history today. Ollie Johnston was 95 years old.

This sad news just came over the transom. Later on I'll try to collect some thoughts, but I'm sure in the meantime many more eloquent tributes than anything I might compose will be posted.

10:45 pm:
I've had an awful lot of visitors to the blog today due to the news of Ollie's death. It makes me wish that I were better qualified to really write something of substance about him-he surely deserves it. But my take would have to be that of the admiring fan more than anything else. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there are so many people out there, in the business and just in love with animation who had real, personal ties with and experiences involving him. I'm sure many of them will express themselves in print or elsewhere in days to come, as they have already, for years, in lectures and at schools, in interviews and at tributes and screenings. Those will be the ones to look for. There are bound to be some fantastic and moving memories.
Let's just say that if you ask anyone who's anyone in our business, they'll have a story about Ollie Johnston: his work, his advice, guidance, criticism, inspiration...encompassing all of it the sheer delight of watching his animation performances. That at least I can say I share with them. We all share in it-whether fan, pro, child or adult. He was one of a handful of geniuses of the art who made millions laugh, cry and dream, and most of all believe in his drawings, believe them to be alive. I don't know if he and Frank coined the term "Illusion of Life" but with their book they became the preeminent representatives of that mysterious, wonderful effect. It was all done with drawings. And talent, heart and sincerity. And a heck of a lot of backbreaking work over a disc, work that from his pencil seemed effortless--which was a big part of the trick.
The same goes for his former colleagues. here they are:

Johnny Lounsbery
Les Clark
Wooilie Reitherman
Milt Kahl
Eric Larson
Marc Davis
Ward Kimball
Frank Thomas
and
Ollie Johnston
Requisiat in pace

101 Dalmatians, 3 Bloggers

swiped/borrowed from Michael Sporn's blog, which you should visit immediately

A triumvirate of essential blogs are contributing to an analysis of the just-released-on-DVD "101 Dalmations". Hans Perk has posted the drafts(the records of who animated what for the entire film), Mark Mayerson is putting up his shot for shot "mosaics"--a kind of visual draft, and invaluable--along with his typically sharp and interesting commentary. And the redoubtable Michael Sporn has done a fantastic post on the "art student" girl's walk--the slouching gal with her matching afghan hound.

It's been said before of this kind of loose collaboration, but this is really the best of the blogosphere: when something like this is put out there and is available to everyone and anyone. What riches.

All of these guys deserve a lot of applause they can't hear for their efforts.

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..

A Class By Himself

in Paris last May. I made up the french and have no idea if it's accurate.

I haven't updated The Blackwing Diaries for more than two months and it's about time I jumped in and posted.
I never meant that the gap would be such a long one. Part of the struggle to get back in the swing and just go on and hit "publish" is due to my ambivalence about whether to address why I haven't been writing.

This really isn't a personal blog. It's meant to be as widely inclusive and journalistic as I can manage regarding my vocation, animation. The easiest option would be to skip over the personal and get right back to Topic A.
But first I'm going to ask your indulgence as I write a bit about this blog's number one follower, the real audience I am always writing for, my husband Peter Bateman.

Pete last August at the beach in Ventura

He wasn't in animation but he certainly knew plenty about it, and not just from being around me. He couldn't draw for beans, at least not as we usually judge these things. I used to kid him that his development as an artist had coalesced around the 5th grade from the evidence(which was pretty entertaining to see)--but he had excellent taste and a great eye.

He knew more about film and loved movies more than anyone I've ever known, and that's saying something as I've known some people with incredible credentials. He was also a reader of prodigious scope, enjoying everything from Michael Crichton to Malcolm Lowry, from Ann Beattie and Claude Lévi-Strauss to MAD magazine, Sgt Rock and Martin and Lewis comics.
His senior paper at NYU film school was on Howard Hawks and he had a great love for French new wave cinema, in particular the lesser-known works of Jacques Rivette and Agnes Varda and the better-known Renoir, Godard and Truffaut. His taste was wide-ranging, eclectic, informed--he seemed to know everything. I'm a pretty big film buff and I know a lot of trivia, but I'm sure I learned at least half of what I know from Pete. The other half I probably get wrong in the details. Pete never forgot the details.

Every entry I made here was read by him first, as it went into his email inbox the second it posted. Many's the time I'd get a phone call at work from Pete and hear a reaction to something I couldn't believe he'd read so soon. Usually he complimented me--okay, he actually complimented me every time whether I deserved it or not. He was a cheerleader.

This time for the first time I'm going to have to go into his email myself and see the message from Blogger that Blackwing Diaries has been updated, because Pete can't. He died on February 13th. His death ended 15 months of unbelievable courage on his part, enduring treatments, several operations, and living life with that large heavy other shoe poised and liable to drop--we knew not when.

Some readers may remember that in October of 2006 I was on a panel for a talk organized by the Animation Guild (my union) involving Geena Davis and her research into gender representation in animation.
I had been flattered and excited to be part of a panel with Geena, Dean De Blois, Jill Culton, Brenda Chapman and Fred Seibert moderated by the union president, Kevin Koch. But came the day, Pete and I had just heard that afternoon from his doctor that something awful was wrong with him, something that would be confirmed after test results came. But they wouldn't be ready for several days. All we could do that evening was wait. It was pretty horrible.
As I sat on the dais I could see Pete's face framed between the shoulders of the row in front of him, terribly pale. I wondered as the various questions were fielded and answered between panelists and audience what our lives were going to be--how much life did we have? Could it be something not so bad? Would it be the absolute worst news imaginable?
Some old friends and colleagues I hadn't seen in ages came up afterwards to say hello. I don't know what I said. I felt a million miles removed from Burbank, in fact from anywhere normal and familiar on planet Earth. It was all incomprehensible, surreal.

The following Tuesday the boom was dropped: Pete had kidney cancer, and it was advanced. He'd have to have one kidney removed immediately, undergo aggressive treatment...and that was that. His only symptom had been a loss of about 10 pounds over several months, which he'd put down to being extra busy and on his feet more than usual at a new job. He was fit. He'd never smoked. He was otherwise--otherwise!--in great health. He had no history of cancer in his family. It was just bad luck, "one of those things." He was 48.
Thus began our lives "A.D."--after diagnosis.

2007 was a very full year for us. Everyone at work (where I was in the thick of storyboarding and voicing a lot of bees) was so supportive-tactful, accommodating, and compassionate. I was and am quite emotional about the loyalty and love my studio friends who knew the situation showed me. Work really is a great tonic--one Pete had too little of as he'd had to leave his own job soon after the year started. But he continued to work: on a long-planned coffee table book of rare film stills he'd collected over the years; proposals for articles; appraisals. Together we sold and wrote a lengthy article for FIRSTS magazine, on author Betty MacDonald. We went to Paris last May, a place neither of us two francophiles had been, and loved it (of course).
We did what I know a lot of people in our situation do--take life not just one day at a time but one minute at a time. There's no tomorrow to fret about, just now. It doesn't always work in practice but one tries.
In hindsight things were pretty great until late October, when the downhill trajectory became faster and steeper. As usual we shared Halloween, our birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Always there was chemo, transfusions, different cocktails of drugs side by side with our own plans for trips, for projects, for little bits of future fun.

In January there was a weeklong trip to Stanford for a treatment that proved futile. Then there was the hospital, then we were home, and then it was obvious that he wouldn't rally. This is when I stopped feeling as if I could write anything, or indeed do anything.

He got a horribly rotten deal but he never, ever complained about it. He made friends of his doctors and nurses. He went from a typical guy who hated needles and all things medical to a stoic, blase patient with the highest pain threshold imaginable--even his specialists were staggered that he'd managed as well as he did for months. To some people he barely referred to his illness--to others, not at all. He hated to burden people or bring them down.

He had the happy talent of being kind, encouraging and likable to anyone and everyone. He was great with kids and dogs, cats and birds and horses. He loved good wine and knew all about it. He played a serious game of chess. He was a great listener and he'd laugh at all my inanities.
There isn't a thing--whether in two dimensions or three--in the world as I know it that doesn't have a connection with him for me. He's left an incomprehensible hole behind him. I'm still constantly on the verge of asking him something, of wanting to tell him an anecdote or run something by him. Again I think of that inbox and I'm reminded of my dependence on his thoughts about things.

By the way, I know he would want me to insist that all of you guys and girls act on the first hint of any differences in your health, no matter how insignificant they might seem. Trust your intuition--and most of all, get a regular physical. Much better to be safe than sorry. Kidney cancer is called "the silent killer" for a reason. It's one of several forms of cancer with few or no early symptoms. Take care of yourselves.

Thanks for your indulgence, and for all your feedback and interest these past years.
I'll be returning tomorrow to my regularly scheduled nonsense. I enjoy doing this blog, and I know my biggest editor, critic and sounding board's gentle spirit will remain with me as long as I'm around.

Thank you, Pete.

Under the big Irish sky.

Scrambled Ink book-coming in summer '08

Dave Pimentel and JJ Villard after our group trek to the Comic Con last summer.You couldn't find a better bunch of traveling companions.


An early rough splash page we put together for the book--this isn't the design, nothing here is final(especially color)-very, very early; this version also doesn't yet include the name of Keith Baxter; left column top to bottom is Ken, Dave D. and JJ; on the right is Dave P., me and Ennio

This blog is usually reserved for touting animation-related doings other than my own, but I'd like to give a heads up on a group project that six of us(all story artists working on the same crew, save JJ who was in visdev)hatched 18 months ago after visiting ComicCon '06 and being mightily inspired with the artists' books that were beginning to appear in ever-increasing numbers.

Since every one of us independently had thoughts of doing a sketchbook and had started exploring the various self-publishing options we decided to do one book together and split the expense. Eventually the book of sketches became a book of stories--one we still planned to do ourselves--but several months after that the founder of comics/book/entertainment company Dark Horse, Mike Richardson, came to Dreamworks to give a talk that most of us attended. A particularly intrepid soul among us approached Mike and pitched him our book. He liked it, we sent a rough dummy--and contracts were signed.
Our self-publishing venture had changed into a real publishing deal with a real editor, Diana Schutz(who's edited for and worked with Will Eisner and Frank Miller among others, ye gods!).
So in time for the ComicCon of 2008, our book "Scrambled Ink" will be out this summer in hardcover.

I'm in the company of a great group of guys with individual points of view: Dave Derrick, Dave Pimentel, Ennio Torresan, Ken Morrissey(who eventually brought Keith Baxter on board to write the prose for his story) and last but never least the inimitable JJ Villard. We did stories from 'the back of our brains'(as Ernie Kovacs might say) and ones we had had percolating for a while on the front burner, too. They're all quite different from each other--hence the "scrambled" title--which at one time we imagined might have a vintage menu look for the the table of contents, (as can be somewhat gleaned from the old page above). It's not like that now--there's not a retro diner menu design in it--but it's still a melange, that's for sure.

Dave Pimentel drew Ennio Torresan, me, and David Derrick taking a break last spring; I'm wondering why I am pictured drawing with a big smile, though. Given the date I'd probably just made reservations for Paris-that kept me smiling for two months-before and after.

They're all good friends as well as great coworkers and my life would be so much more dull without them. It's a hackneyed phrase but true: I'm honored to be in their company. I think--I hope--that our combined stories will appeal. It's great of Dark Horse, Mike and Diana to help us get it out there.

Coming soon!

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.