Cat Reprint

At the Veterinarian's a few days ago, I learned that today marks the 11th Anniversary of Murray the Cat's
"adoption".

After that same visit, unfortunately, that Murray has acute kidney failure and may not have much more time with us.

It should go without saying that this makes me unspeakably sad.

I wanted to re-run a post from a few years back which showcases some Murray art.

He's been a remarkable friend.

Murray the Cat was recently hospitalized for week.

He's fine now.

Our friend Abby Denson recently published "Dolltopia" in which a cartoon Murray plays a part.

A former production artist at the studio created this painting of him.

And here's a portrait in felt on a scarf Dame Darcy made for me.

1/17/09

My father would have turned 58 today.

Happy birthday, in memorium.

 

We're all racing to the finish line.


Thanks to Hazel for sending these photos.

Wherefore?

It's been almost a year since I began daily postings on this site.  Actually, I thought it was a year from today -but a few days were skipped in late December.

In any event, I wanted to celebrate with a post seemingly unrelated to animation.

This week, my friend Kristin Worrell (who's done some audio for us in the past) invited me to her theater company's show at The Kitchen.

After many years, I've grown a distrust of theater.  The form was the first art that I loved, before movies or music or radio or anything else.  Seeing so much bad, bad work, though, would make any person reticent to spend 90 minutes squirming on an uncomfortable chair in the dark.

I've also learned to trust bright people.  Generally, (the massive shortcomings of the current administration's first year notwithstanding) they won't give you a bum steer.

Sometimes they'll give you a Golden Calf.

The Nature Theater of Oklahoma's "Romeo & Juliet" at The Kitchen is, at the very least, some Blue Ribbon Bull.

Those who've been fortunate enough to see "Sita Sings the Blues" (New Yorkers will again have the opportunity during its upcoming run at IFC) will recall the three characters trying to recount the story of Rama and Sita as they remember it. 

This production jumps from a similar conceit.  The director built monologues from phone calls of people recounting from memory Shakespeare's story.  The confessional phone call being a staple of another of America's great artists, Joe Frank.

There's comedy -like in "Sita Sings the Blues" -but the production quickly transcends comedy.  We're rooting for the person to get the story right, wanting to help them out.  This creates a profound, and wholly theatrical, intellectual engagement with the audience.  We follow their trains of thought into personal, illuminating, and sometimes frightening places.

The stylized performance of the actors, their self-consciously "Shakespearean" presentations set in Summer Stock stylized mock proscenium simultaneously obscure and explicate the original script.  The result is akin to what good animation does, it references the way something behaves and then shows it to you in strange way that seems perfectly natural.

Personal stories, layers of literary irony, comedy, romance.  This is a moving and magical production.  Each moment is beautifully orchestrated, although I thought the third act was a little too long even that was saved by the perfect little music cue (once you learn the source of the music, the brilliance is eye popping).  The epilogue, after an evening of tangents and botched recollections can bring you to tears.

It's reminder of why I loved theater, and a prod at what the technique of animation can do with the right creative intent.

The show runs until January 16th.

Famous Cat

Murray the Cat was recently hospitalized for week.

He's fine now.

Our friend Abby Denson recently published "Dolltopia" in which a cartoon Murray plays a part.

A former production artist at the studio created this painting of him.

And here's a portrait in felt on a scarf Dame Darcy made for me.

Thanks

Today I give thanks for my exciting and charmed life.

Could my parents and grandparents have imagined the interesting people I've known and the incredible things I've been a party to?

For many years I celebrated this day with the Blechman family in their elegant Central Park West apartment.

One of my appearances there was documented by Lee Friedlander.

This is same room (with maybe the same camera) in which Lee Friedlander captured R. O. three decades earlier in this iconic photo.

 Apparently, that was a mean cat.

Memorium

We lose people and we build new connections, lose again then find other companions who understand us in wholly novel ways.

Two years ago today my father died after a 10 month descent through cancer. That is a sort compassion that can never be replaced.



Photo taken by Abby Denson in December 2002.

Why You Buggin?

Saw Jonny A for the first time in a while last night.

He's helped us out on a few projects over the years, mostly on art production. Some compositing -a few segments for "Curious", "Make 'Em Laugh" and sundry other things.

He's a big fan of Mary Worth and put this together:

The Yoke of the Horde

Some works are beyond criticism.

It's not necessarily significant of "greatness" -although it can be. And most great films have plenty of room for criticism.

In animation, I can only think of a handful of works that fit this category.

Priit Parn's "1895" is one:




Martha Colburn's "Evil of Dracula":




Of course, Hubley's "Moonbird":




Perhaps the "gesamkunstwerk" nature of animation allows for even greatness to have it flaws. J. J. Villard's "Son of Satan", for instance, amongst the most powerful films of the decade, still has a thing or two that stick out -the dad's voice, for instance. His "Chestnuts Icelolly" may be more refined, may still be great, but doesn't have near the impact of "Son of Satan".

My old high school pal David Prior has just published a book which, in my opinion, is beyond criticism.

"The Yoke of the Horde"

Here's an excerpt that's off the narrative track of the book, but humorously pertinent to our profession.

'Well, heck, I know it's my logo but I wonder if that's enough. I mean, I wonder if we could somehow get the logo in that little movie with the old man and the truck.'

'You don't need a logo during that part. People are going to identify you with the old man and the truck. You just said so yourself.'

'I know that and you know that, but crazy as it sounds there are a lot of people out there that don't know the first thing about BFT&H. They're likely to see this here commercial and not make the connection between BFT&H and wholesome goodness. I don't need Bobby Beercans sitting at home saying to himself... Well heck, I don't know those kinds of people will say about all of this. He might like the truck but... oh hell. Can't we just the logo or a voice in there, something beside the spiritual music, so people know what its all about?'

'Of course people are going to know what it's all about, Mr. Susskind. That's why we add your name to the end of the commercial. Believe me, we test run commercials all of the time in order to see what the most effective ways for a company to get their point across is, and this approach always does very well. It's a tried and true performer, and if you don't mind me saying so, from your reaction just a minute ago, you thought the bit about the farmer was very engaging, and it was a very good, very effective commercial.'

'No. It needs something more. It's my company, and it's my commercial, and I say it needs a little something more.'

'Okay, fine. Look, maybe I can have some of my people at CPS&D make it so the hat the old man is wearing is a BFT&H hat. How about that?'

'No, someone might miss that. Uh-uh. I want something big, something major, so not even the damnedest fool imaginable would be able to miss it.... You know what I want, Miss Borimmer? I want the old man, when his grandchildren come running to him, that part that you described the people at the agency liking the most, I want that part to be the BFT&H moment. Pinpoint it. Right at that moment, right at that moment you get your marketing stat people to sit around with a bunch of stop watches, and you tell them to watch for the reactions on peoples' faces, you know, these test tube guinea pig people you have watching the new commercials, the...'

'The focus group.'

'Right, those people. See I want those people monitored. You got that? Strictly monitored, that's how we're going to have to do this. Now bear with me, Ms. Borimmer, because we're all on the same team now, BFT&H, CPS&D, we're all going to have to work together now. So what you guys and gals over there at CPS&D are going to do now is watch those little people and once they get to the part you said they all liked, you- no, better yet. Tape them. Yes, tape them and slow down the tape, right. And right at the millionth of a second when they first smile, weep, whatever the hell they do to show we've made them happy, that's when we have the BFT&H appear, and I don't mean I want to see on some fellow's hat. I mean appear. We're talking a crash of thunder, a bolt of lightening, whammo bammo sis boom bah, and then across the sky BFT&H.'

If you don't buy the book, you'll regret it for the rest of your life.

Nostalgia, Nostalgia

It couldn't wait.

Nostalgia, nostalgia -I just had to write about WHT.



For over 20 years I thought it was Womeco, and that it broadcast out of the (apparently non-existent but plausibly named) Womeco, New Jersey.

I imagined a tribe of heroic Indians aiding General Washington in late December 1776 being repaid with a bedroom community named in their honor. But no, it's Wome[i]t[/i]co and has little to do with New Jersey.

WHT was similar to then-fledgling HBO (or our local Philadelphian "Prism"), it was a single channel carrying movies and occasional fights directly into the home. HBO, or Home Box Office as we called it back then, used "cable" technology -like the telephone only carrying pictures. WHT used the traditional broadcast signal, picked up by a special antenna and decoded with a TV top box.

the antenna looked something like this

A ten foot antenna affixed to the side of our small military-issue house. And if you wanted to watch the movie that night, you'd first have to lean out the window and knock the antenna around with a broom to get reception -all the time hollering downstairs to verify the operation's success.

This is how I first saw "Alien". My father, at the time much younger than I am now, invited the whole neighborhood (meaning ten to fifteen 10 to 15 year olds). We all crammed into our 8 by 10 living room. I remember covering my eyes in embarrassment as Sigourney Weaver pranced about in her bra.

Near three decades have intervened. My father, no longer with us. Broadcast television, soon to follow. WHT, long passed.

The sensation of a dozen friend lying on the floor screaming at a brand new experience, that can be everlasting.

That's why we're planning a some screenings in a couple weeks at our new space. I'd say we're open for suggestions, but we're not. I'd say we're kicking it off with "Alien", but nostalgia is only useful if it brings you to a new place.

Wonder Mom

Brief weekend trip to Philadelphia.
My high school pal, Marc Schuster, was releasing his first novel.

the sky was really grey like this, not my fault

The first line is good and the excerpt he read was also interesting.  He admitted that he had a hard timing finding 5 pages that were "all ages" suitable for the party.

The party was held at the Swedish American Museum.  It's on the grounds of a lovely park in South Philadelphia, just north of the Navy Yard, just West of the ballparks (which we attended on Sunday).

Swedes

I had a vague feeling I had been in these fields before.  Maybe with the Spinelli family the time I went to the baseball game with them and not my Aunt Betty.

Inside the Swedish Museum, a room dedicated to Nobel Prize winners.

I told Marconi "Wireless was a phoney".

who had the last laugh?

Pressing Matters

Steve Kerper sent me this the other day:

Just shows, you've got to spend money to make money -especially in something as time and skill intensive as animation.

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Here's a behind the scenes on Bob Staake's New Yorker cover.

Bob has worked in animation on some big ticket productions.  His New Yorker covers are just getting better and better, combining great design, illustration, wit and insightful concepts.

His

inauguration cover was downright moving.

 

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I haven't looked into what this is about, but a very cool video at The New York Times involving the very great William Kentridge.

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And speaking of very cool, my lovely and talented friend Kristin Worrell has launched her website.   She's a  sound designer (and musician) and is invited to travel the world doing  groovy and spooky noises for theater.

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And no post is complete without some self-promotion.

Nursery University will be starting a run this weekend.  Some shows are already sold out.

Here's some press:  Director Marc Simon in the Huffington Post.

Curator Magazine. 

The Village Voice

Newark Star-Ledger

Slant

The New York Times 

Here's the trailer:

P. S.

Kate Hambrecht gave us this pencil sharpener a few years ago.

pencil sharpener

I recall a famous animator saying that his most important tool was an electric pencil sharpener.

Kate got this when she worked at Cosmopolitan in the 20th Century. It was actually Helen Gurley Brown's personal pencil sharpener.  So there's more than even odds that fashion models have used it.

All important to note: every other pencil sharpener we have had has broken down -some within weeks -while this one still grinds the graphite.

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Speaking of famous animators, here's an interview with Richard Williams from "Animation Today". I think it's an Indian magazine.

It's fairly cursory, but ends with Williams saying how he "thinks of animation as drawn music".

I take him one step further and suggest that all film is merely an extension of music.

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Sometime collaborator Carla Rhodes, who owes me 100 bucks, is featured in New York magazine's "Ten New Comedians That People Find Funny".

photograph by Jake Chessum

Here's an offensive video we made during the Presidential primaries.

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One of the animators on The Plague Dogs, which I wrote about yesterday was Brad Bird.

The Iron Giant is amongst the most moving children's films of the few decades.

It was based on a story Ted Hughes wrote for his children after the suicide of their mother, Sylvia Plath.

sometimes the Giant comforts us, sometimes the grip does us in

Their son, Dr. Nicholas Hughes, died by his own hand last week.

Many of our friends and loved ones fight the same demons Dr. Hughes battled, the same curses that haunted his mother.

While he ultimately succumbed to his dark impulses, we are blessed- in the animation world especially, with the results of his life. However tangential they may seem, the events of our lives conspire to effect distant strangers in profound ways we will never know.

Dewan To Me One More Time

Brian Dewan had an opening at Pierogi in Williamsburg last night.

It was crammed packed.



Here's Leon Dewan talking to Hiroko about physics in front of one piece.

The show consists of a few things. There's the pen and ink watercolor like the work pictured above. There are a few film strips along with sundry installations. And most fun and interesting are three dimensional little white houses with comic strip illustrations for windows.

Here's Brian.



I can't offer any real critique of the show -not just because it was elbow to elbow and impossible to experience the work -but I think Brian is an amazingly brilliant guy, it's impossible for me to offer any impartial thoughts on the work in this short space.

The show will be up through March 8, 2009

People In The Neighborhood

Dame Darcy stopped by yesterday to give me a copy of her new book, Gasoline.


I've read it in a draft form. It's an interesting piece -what is really remarkable is the production.

Merrell has done an outstanding job with reproduction. There are a maybe a dozen or more full color plates which and black and white illustration on every page. Many pieces look like ink originals. The cloth binding has a run of metallic gold. It's really a stunning print job.

This year I've decided to photograph all of the special guests that come into the studio. Here's the first edition.
Lisa Hammer (below) came by to meet up with Dame Darcy before heading off to some gothical olde tyme Victorian thingamajig.

This One's For Fran Krause

January 29th, 1995 was the only the second time I went to Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  To this day I find the lack of tricorner hats and butter-churning greatly disappointing.

I was on my way to Aaron Cantor's for a "Super Bowl Party."

On the way I was stopped by a multi-cultural group of men. 

(above) The Location.  The van really did break down!

One of them step up and says, "Hey, can you help us with a couple bucks?"

Another, pointing to a van parked at the curb, "We're on our way to a gig and our van broke down."

A third, "You might have heard of us -we're Spyro Gyra."

My college days of scamming Columbia House made me very familiar with the concept of Spyro Gyra.

I made a wide circle and continued on my way.

Later that evening we turned off the football game after one quarter and watched Wacko on VHS.

Good Book

It's a holy time of year, I guess.

above: Luke 2:7, illustrated by Raymond C. Raeke III

Celebrate by drawing a picture for the book that launched a million ships!

For the past few years Patrick and Kate Hambrecht have been curating an open source art project to illustrate the Bible verse by verse. To date it's about 9% finished.

Regardless of your feelings about art, or the Bible, or Patrick and Kate it's an interesting endeavor which utilizes technology and a powerful cultural icon to build a common project. The contributors are professionals (Tony Millionaire, Danny Hellman, Dame Darcy, et al.) and horrible, rank amateurs (me).

As you're drowning your sorrows in eggnog and hidden flasks of Kentucky bourbon this holiday season, pull out a Sharpie and a King James and draw up some Bible verses!

Proverbs 3:25 by Marc Crisafulli

You don't even need to know how to draw:

Zephaniah 1:2 "I will utterly consume all things from the land, saith the lord."

...

A few years ago I received a call from a colleague telling me that a certain animator had passed.

"We lost XXXXX", he said.

Immediate condolences were offered. After a minute of the usual questions, I thanked him for calling and admitted that I never even met the person and, not to speak ill of the dead, didn't at all care for their films. He laughed and agreed on the last point and voiced what I already respected on the first -you may not have known this person but they were very important to our community and now an important of us all is missing.

I did know Emru Townsend. Even if I tried I couldn't think of a negative thing to say about him. Maybe that he never visited me in New York. And being Canadian is, at least, questionable.

When a friend texted me last night of his worsening condition, I immediately thought of that call from years ago.

Emru was a part of our global family. Not just through his publications, or through his well considered love of animation and graphics but as kind and bright person.

The world is a better place than it was when he was born into it. This morning, we all wake a little worse off.

Air wave

Public Radio has finally done something right (besides Joe Frank).

Weekend Edition ran a 9 and a half minute story on Brian Dewan that almost begins to capture what a brilliant guy he is.


I've known Brian for several years -the first few years of our acquaintance involved minor chit chat without proper introduction. We've moved a little past the minor chit chat, I don't think we've ever had a proper introduction but at least we know one another's name.

Just Like Me...

A few years ago Ian Marshall gave me this hand towel he found at an estate auction in Los Angeles.It was originally Richard Carpenter's personalized bowling towel.

I can only imagine the wistful melancholy that this linen has witnessed. Did a 10th frame gutterball ruin his game one stormy night? Maybe it was used to wipe up the quaalude induced puddle of saliva that pooled under his mouth as he stared blankly at the shag carpet, dreaming of tiny civilizations living there... looking down on creation...

Signs of the Oncoming Depression

Kate Hambrecht is making preserves from the wild berries in her back yard.