I'm an old-school gamer. No surprise there. But I'm also a collector. At this point in my life, I pretty much have everything I want for the collection, save for a couple books. So I like to visit used bookstores, smaller gaming conventions, and I do haunt eBay with my list of saved searches. Well, the other day, my old college roommate let me know of a big 'gaming garage sale' over in Muskegon that would have lots of board games and RPGs on display. My curiosity piqued, I gathered up the shopping list and drove out to the west side of the state. The event, well, it was a bust. Turns out while it was well stocked and well attended, it was 99% board games, most of which were those Euro games that require you to memorize a manual the size of a small encyclopedia before you could start playing. Not my scene. I left after ten minutes.
While I like this style of artwork, I have to admit that I'm not very well educated on it. So it was a pleasant surprise learning about the sculptures and ceramics that were produced in step with the Art Nouveau style.
Dancing Lady with Lilies, 1899 Eduard Stellmacher
l: Vase with Fire-Breathing Pterodactyl, 1905-06 r: Vace with Two-Winged Dragon, 1899-1900 Eduard Stellmacher
Looking at the sculpture, ceramics, and prints, it left me with the desire to learn more. I read every title card and narration they had. It left me wanting more. One name kept coming up over and over again: Alphonse Mucha.
Biscuits Lefvre Utile, 1896 Alphonse Mucha
Fuchsia Vase, 1900 Daum Studio
There was also some other artwork in the museum outside of the Art Nouveau exhibit that caught my eye.
Silver Evening Light, John Andersen, 2025
Organic, Xavi Francis, 2025
And down in the basement gallery, there was an additional exhibit of prints and figure studies by Alphonse Mucha from the Museum's private collection. I left the museum a couple hours later, determined to learn more about Mucha's history and artwork.
Study for Decorative Figures Alphonse Mucha, 1860-1939
On the way out to the car, I met a very friendly squirrel. Unfortunately, I didn't have any food on me, but will be sure to bring a bag of peanuts with me next time.
The exhibit will be available until January 11th. If you get a chance, check it out before it's gone.
It's Fall and the leaves are changing here in the Midwest. I've received
that odd psychological surge of renewal that comes this time of year. After
twenty-one years of schooling, September has always felt like the beginning of
the year to me. Every year since grad school, walking outside to see the colors
reminds me of one of those epiphanies provided to me by my professor Marla
Schweppe. We were talking about abstract animated films and how I didn't see the
purpose of them. Marla suggested that I go outside, look at a tree with its
colorful foliage, then defocus my eyes. I did so, and the purpose became
immediately evident. With my eyes defocused, all form and structure was gone and
what was left were these vibrant patterns of color. One key to why people create
abstract animated films was now firmly lodged into my consciousness.
Speaking of Fall and abstraction animated films, it was time for my yearly
pilgrimage to the Ottawa International Animation Festival.
I was looking forward to this trip in particular as I had purchased a new
(used) car several weeks prior and it was time to break it in with the 18-hour
round trip drive to and from Canada's capital. The foliage was in full color
mode. The weather was clear and sunny. And Ottawa was as beautiful as I
remember.
Much like in previous years, my colleague Jim Middleton shared a hotel room
and drove out to the festival. We talked film and animation history and
photography and gaming the entire way there and the entire way back!
Moving from venue to venue, more often than not I found myself soaking up the scenery--trying to be a little more observant of my surroundings, not for security or anything like that, but looking at architecture, foliage, even the little signs that people posted on telephone poles. One of the things that stood out to me was a city-wide art project.
Back in 2017, Ottawa had a program to cover junction boxes with artwork. It's
been eight years and I had difficulty finding one or two that hadn't been
defaced in some shape or form. More than just youthful mischief, some of the
artwork I saw had the eyes scratched over. It hurts my heart to know that some
people are so broken that they have to destroy beautiful things instead of just
appreciating them. But I made it a point to photograph every one that I could
find, if for no other reason than to enjoy them in later years and hopefully
find some inspiration for my own art projects.
Well at the festival, it looks like the torch for the annual Friday animators picnic had been passed. No longer
sponsored by Cartoon Network, this year it was sponsored by NetFlix. Along
with the annual pumpkin carving contest, I had my own personal reunions as I
caught up with some ASIFA Central members that I don't get to see very often
as well as my fellow former R.I.T. graduates Glenn and Sarah.
On the walk back from the picnic, I had the opportunity to stop by a used book
store and meet the store cat: "Milo". Whenever presented with the opportunity,
always engage in a little fuzz therapy.
"Milo" at 'Barely Bruised Books New & Used'
Didn't see as many friends and colleagues as I had hoped. Wanted to talk to Steven Woloshen about his film conservation work. Was really hoping to catch up with J.J. Sedelmaier about his progress on turning his historical animation tools exhibit from the Grohmann museum into a travelling exhibit. Was of those years, I suppose. It happens. The film selection this year was pretty broad. Lots of different stories and animation techniques. Some of my favorites this year were:
Fusion by Richard Reeves: This abstract experimental animation hit all the marks: not too long, not too short, audio complimented the visuals, and the visuals reminded me a lot of the films that my former professor Stephanie Maxwell created. Not surprising since this was a direct-on-film animation. Was hoping to share a trailer but was pleasantly surprised to find an interview with Mr. Reeves regarding his creation.
I Beg Your Pardon by John W. Lustig was one of those slow-burn comedies where in every scene you keep expecting one thing to happen only to have your expectations subverted.
The Girl Who Cried Pearls was a hauntingly beautiful film by Chris Lavis and Maciek Szczerbowski. And as good as the visuals and animation is in this film, it's the story that really hooked me and kept me riveted from beginning to end. As this is an NFB film, I can't wait until the festival run is over and they put it on their website and YouTube channel. Looking forward to sharing this film with friends.
Existential Greg by Will Anderson. Well... that was... something. I spent the majority of the film baffled by what was going on and flooded with memories of my aunt's weird showcats. The slow reveal of the cat's expressions are what really got me. This turned out to be a really fun film to experience.
Unfortunately, I couldn't fit any of the features into my schedule. Was hoping
to see Yasuhiro Aoki's film ChaO. As ChaO was Produced by
Studio4°C, I knew that it was going to be a visual feast. Hopefully GKIDS will pick it up for North American distribution.
And before I knew it, the week was over and we were on our way back home to the States.
Next year: the 50th anniversary of the Ottawa International Animation Festival
So I'm working on research for an assignment that I'll be using in my History of Animation
class--one that fills in gaps within the textbook we're using. No shade here, there's only so
much you can cover within a reasonable page-count. It's a problem I'm sure that every historian struggles with.
I've already added sections in my class that cover the Internet animation boom of the
late-1990's to the late-2000's--around a twenty year timespan. And one of my
assignments showcases music videos and some of the techniques used to make
them. Still another focuses on the "outside the entertainment industry" field of forensic
animation, ranging from court cases to museum displays (drawing on many
examples from my career in animation). But when I wanted to add an assignment
that covers animation in advertising, it was pretty clear that I couldn't get
it done in time for this Fall's class. So I ended up gathering resources for my plan to make it into an assignment for 2026's class. The first
part of my research was reading the book "Animation and Advertising" by Malcolm Cook
and Kirsten Moana Thompson -- one of the few books on the subject of which I'm
aware.
Shortly after ordering it, I logged onto Facebook where a post in the History
of Animation group popped up in my feed. Turns out J.J. Sedelmaier reposted a
link from Donna Dazzo about an auction that contained material her father,
Jack Dazzo, had animated for commercials back in the 1980's. A quick review showed that there was
production material from M&Ms and Alka Seltzer. But the one lot which immediately caught my eye was the production material from a Clairol Herbal
Essences commercial. I fondly remember those commercials from when I was a kid
and was actually showing one of them on the last day of class--sort of a catch-all screening of animated shorts that weren't in the book but were worth watching anyways. And what a treat it would be to show students actual production drawings and storyboards from a
commercial they just watched in class. So, just like the Brenda Banks
production drawing from Wizards, I had to have this set of Jack Dazzo
drawings from the Clairol commercial.
It was a rare pleasure to page through this material when it arrived at my
doorstep.
I quickly discovered that they were kind enough to include a matted and painted cel.
There are also little things here to learn. It appears that Mr. Dazzo used
10.25" x 14" animation bond with the Acme hole punch style for many of these
drawings. And if you look closely in the lower right side of several of these
drawings, one can see his notes: mostly calculatons as well as timing charts.
There are also a number of "X"s in the hair, notations that I often see in anime
drawings. These are usually notes to the cel painters denoting lighter and
darker areas. The "X"s are usually drawn in red or blue pencil that won't show up on the photocopied cel but are visible in the production drawings.
This was an interesting one: a series of photocopies that have the
television field safe areas marked out--these are zones where you can and cannot
see the picture on a television. I believe what we're looking at here are the
title-safe area (the inner rounded rectangle) and the action-safe area (the
outer rectangle). Basically, you're trying to prevent important parts of the drawings from being clipped when viewed on a television screen.
Well, after going over the material, I'm pretty sure that some of this artwork was used in
this commercial from 1976.
I'm hoping to bump into Mr. Sedelmaier at the Ottawa festival if he's there. Would like to thank him personally for pointing out this auction. Also hoping that he might be willing to introduce me to Jack Dazzo's daughter. I'd love to talk to her about her father and his work in the New York animation scene.
So I'm posting this on the blog a little earlier than I normally would,
hoping that it'll give everyone a couple extra weeks to make it to the Dragon
Forest event at the Detroit Zoo.
First off, the admission to the Dragon Forest is an additional cost, in my
case it was $6 for a single adult. Well worth the experience for the price I
paid. After going through the first time, I went to lunch, walked around the
zoo to gather photo and video references, then paid to go through the Dragon
Forest a second time before I left for the day.
The elusive owlbear.
There were three separate types of displays: a couple were images posted
on flat boards, solid statues (many of which accessible so that kids could climb
on them), and full animatronic displays that could move (which were roped off so
people wouldn't touch them).
The Griffin Made as a solid statue.
From what I could tell, all the 3d statues (solid and animatronic) had
motion sensors that would trip when you got close, then they would play
soundtracks: animals roaring, a dragon talking, etc. There was also a flower
telling stories that was on a timer--more on that later.
The Basilisk (with motion sensor)
If you look at the photo above, you can see one of the motion sensors that
would trigger the sound effects--it's the little black pole with the white
sensor pointing towards the path (looks like an oddly shaped birdhouse).
They also camouflaged some of the speakers so they'd blend into the
display, like the one pictured below that was molded into the shape of a rock.
The eleven year old kid in me was absolutely giddy as I walked through the
display--fond memories of the time spent playing Dungeons and Dragons and
daydreams of being the hero in Dragonslayer danced through my head.
The Wyvern
In addition to the many dragons, they even had a wyvern. It wouldn't be
until decades later that I encountered a plethora of nerds arguing that the
"dragon",
Vermithrax Pejorative, in Dragonslayer was actually a wyvern since it's wings were
attached to its frontal arms.
Personally, I didn't care--back then or now--as I'm far more interested in the
practical special effects used by Industrial Light and Magic to bring Disney's
great wyrm to life. I love CGI and the many movies it's made possible, but
there's just something special about practical effects be it the work of ILM
or the films of Ray Harryhausen.
The Fairy Garden
Halfway through the display, there was a "fairy garden" with little cat-sized
faerie dragon statues, larger-than-life toadstools, and stumps where kids
could sit down for a spell. Every five minutes, this large flower would light
up and recite stories from Aesop's Fables to the visitors.
One of several Faerie Dragons that were out and about.
They also didn't focus on one single region. There were fantasy creatures from
Egypt, Borneo, and North America, among others.
The 'Western Dragon' was about as tall as a one-story house.
The Dragon Forest event ends on Sunday, September 7th, so if you're
interested, I'd head down to Detroit sooner rather than later. If I lived closer
to Detroit, I'd go back and see this display again. Even if I wasn't studying
animated installations and displays, this would still have been a fun and
worthwhile experience to have. Since all the animatronics appeared to run off of
the same motion sensors, there wasn't much to puzzle out, but it was still a
good learning experience.
A month later, it was time to go back to Grand Rapids, pick up my paperwork,
and wrap up business for the 2024 tax season. The butterflies at Meijer
Gardens were gone, however the John Ball Zoo had opened up their annual Grand
Rapids Lantern Festival to the public and boy did they step up their game! Much like prior events, there were static figures with elaborate lighting, basic animatronic statues that appeared to be on timers, as well as others that were triggered by sensors. Some of these used pressure plates on the walkways, still others were activated by motion sensors as we passed by. There were far more fanciful creatures and fantastic environments than last year. Inspired a lot of thoughts, mostly random, but there was a thread running through them all: animated installations and interactivity.
The Nine-Tailed Fox (Jiuwei Hu)
The Hou at night
All told, it was a fun event, though I highly recommend attending near dusk. I
like to make two passes through the Zoo, the first when it's light so I can
see the sensor mechanisms and a second when it's dark when those lights
really stand out.
There are two other events involving animatronics going on right now for
those who are interested, both of which I'm hoping to attend:
After I got home, I started to go down the rabbit hole, researching one
sensor activation technology after another--and how they could be integrated with animated installations. Fortunately I pulled back and
only bookmarked a couple websites and books. Just don't have the time to dig into
this tech right now. But hopefully soon.
Prior to this event, I had been doing a little research on how museums could use QR codes (and some do) in order to link visitors to additional information on their works of art--or how it could be used for contemporary artists. As fate would have it, for the annual Free RPG Day event this year, Hoplite Games had implemented a scavenger hunt/dungeon crawl adventure that was created by Ninth Level Games. They were just letter-sized pages that described a location in the dungeon and offered clues based upon what decision the player selected. Only six locations but it was fun and showed a unique use of QR codes.
Getting back to animated installations, I'm afraid that I was a little early to the party at R.I.T. After I had graduated, Marla Schweppe had left the animation program and started a 3d digital design program that included some interactivity. Given how Riot Games has been integrating animation, live-action performers, augmented-reality, and advanced Pepper's Ghost (pseudo-holographic) tech into their yearly League of Legends Worlds competition event, I think Marla had a pretty clear vision of where the industry was headed. Wish I would've had the opportunity to take a couple of her classes dealing with interactivity and animation.
Clearly, my thoughts on the subject are all over the place.
My current plan is to see the Dragon Forest at the Detroit Zoo in August. I'll be interested to see how complex the statues are and how they leverage interactivity in their animatronics to enhance visitor engagement.
As I'm sure I've mentioned before, Erik's lessons didn't stop when the class period was over. He would check in with us off and on during the week, even when we weren't taking one of his classes that quarter.
I remember times when I'd be walking past his office and he'd call me in to chat. In addition to seeing how we were managing our classes and workload and thesis films, Erik would also take these small opportunities to teach his students outside of the classroom. I was in his office one day, just to check in. Erik quickly opened a web browser, called up a video and showed me the trailer for the upcoming feature film James and the Giant Peach. He then asked me what I noticed. I immediately picked up on what he was trying to show me: within every shot, the character's action would lead your eyes, your attention, to the starting point of the action in the next scene. Erik smiled, I assume confident that the lessons from my classes were sinking in. He pointed out a couple other things about movie trailers. And then the lesson ended and I was off to my next class.
Erik's lesson was made all the more timely when during the following year, Marla taught a stop-motion animation class. Halfway during the quarter, she brought in stop-mo animator Tom Brierton from Chicago to talk about his career and the industry. Tom showed up with a number of ball-and-socket "skeletons" from when he worked on James and the Giant Peach and a video of clips from the scenes he animated.
This month, I was invited to return to Central Michigan University and continue teaching a class in the animation department. As I continue to interact with students, these little lessons and examples from Erik, Marla, Jack, Skip and Stephanie keep coming to mind. Sometimes, I cringe when I look at a challenging student of mine and feel sheepish over my college years--wondering if that's how my behavior looked to them. Then I remember how they all handled these energetic, overeager students who were trying to make these little films about these stories that were deeply personal and deeply emotional--to us anyways. But with each class I teach, I've learned to welcome these memories. Thinking back about my professors, the grace and the patience they displayed, those memories are constant reminders of the kind of teacher that I want to be for my students.
It was Spring and time for the yearly drive out to Grand Rapids to drop off my yearly taxes binder to my accountant. As always, my yearly pilgrimage yielded a wealth of butterflies and Chinese lanterns. On the initial trip, I spend an afternoon at the Frederik Meijer Gardens, hunting butterflies with my camera.
This year, the Meijer Garden's cafe played up the Butterflies are Bloomin' event with shortbread cookies.
And there were some really beautiful flower arrangements in the greenhouse and parlor rooms leading up to, and including, the Lena Meijer Tropical Conservatory.
This year though, I was in a different headspace. In prior years, I've spent copious amounts of time tracking butterflies, trying to find the correct angle, and waiting for them to spread their wings so I could photograph the vibrant colors. This time, I specifically focused on butterflies with their wings closed. A couple years back, one of my friends did this beautiful colored pencil sketch of a butterfly on a black background. Rather than the usual 'wings out' pose, this sketch had a butterfly with its wings closed. And the black background provided a nice contrast to the colors--they really popped off the page. It made me wonder if I was missing something special with my photographs. Well I wasn't disappointed, especially as this new perspective drew my attention to the shape and form of their wings in addition to some colors and patterns that I had overlooked.
Tiger Longwing
Golden Helicon
Postman
Julia
Of course, I did nab a couple good photos of the butterflies in their 'wings out' mode when the opportunity presented itself.
Zebra Longwing
Postman
And there 'were' opportunities for the obligatory silly pics of butterflies.
* nom nom nom*
But I couldn't leave the venue without taking some photos and videos of the event's motion graphics projection for my class. Between Meijer Gardens and the DIA, I'm harvesting lots of good references where animation and live-action videos are being used to entertain and educate visitors. In my class, we cover a chapter on animation in the art world. Based upon the answers written in the final exam, installations and projections have been difficult concepts to get across to my students. So the more examples I can show them, the better.
By day, I'm a mild-mannered forensic animator, but during evenings and weekends, I work on my own animated films and various artistic endeavors for clients. I'm a graduate of the Rochester Institute of Technology's M.F.A. Computer Animation program and a current member of ASIFA, MATAI, and the Toronto Animated Image Society.
Building upon the 2008-2009 project for the NY MET and Bard Graduate Center, I am currently animating gold-and-silk needlework stitches and managing lesson webpages for an online course presented by Dr. Wilson-Nguyen for her Thistle-Threads Historical needlework website.
