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.
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.